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TidalMoonrise
Word count: 1126
“When all that remains is Darkness, be a Lantern unto the world.”
Canith traced his finger over the D in darkness continuously as he stared out the window into the endless night sky. The stars twinkled defiantly against the black, casting their meager illumination down upon the city of Eagle’s Reach. The city had not been named for its altitude, but rather for the heights to which its towers reached. Turrets pierced any low-hanging clouds that swept off the sea, giving the impression that those who sat in the highest rooms sat in thrones above the world.
But Canith knew better. Tonight, no clouds sheltered the lower buildings from his view. He pushed to his feet, leaving the book behind him open to its fateful page, and moved silently across the stone floor towards a pair of stained glass doors. Reaching out his hands, he touched the cool glass before pushing them open and stepping out onto the balcony.
A cold breeze met him, rushing past him into his library and curling about as it sought to toss pages into disarray.
Let it, Canith thought as he strode out into the night.
He pulled his bright cloak, a mosaic of varying shades of all colors, about himself as he moved towards the edge marked by a banister made of black stone and accented in obsidian. When the tower was created, long before the Day of Eternal Night, it would have absorbed the sunlight throughout the daytime hours and used the heat to magically warm the city below him during chilly nights.
But that was before the sun died.
Since then, the world of Varil had started to use the moon to count its days. New rituals were created to thank the gods for sparing their world even after the strange and tragic death of the sun deity. Warmth, once cast down from the sun, now emanated from the earth below, keeping everything and everyone from freezing.
The moon had set about an hour ago, and it was Canith’s turn to be the Lantern.
Wordlessly, he cast back his cloak as he looked over the city. Far below, he could see people and horses moving along streets and bridges, passing through markets and carrying about their everynight business. The coastal winds tossed Canith’s cloak about behind him. The sound of whipping cloth transformed into a soft tinkle of glass as Canith started to feel himself pulled back with the gusts. Quickly, he tucked his new wings to his back.
He moved a hand to the banister and easily pushed himself up onto it as he watched the world below. Firelight flickered in many windows, warding off the darkness that threatened to envelop them all. In the shadows that filled the gaps of light, Canith could sense the creatures lurking, sniffing out their nightly prey.
Three people had died last night alone on Amia’s watch.
He spread his wings and leapt into the air, letting the salty breeze catch him and carry him between the other turrets. The glass wings held his easily aloft and sparkled meagerly in the starlight above. Tucking his wings close, he arced downwards, falling through the night air before he snapped his wings out with a subtle clatter and circled over the lower streets.
People stopped to stare up at him. A few people even waved and children pointed and gasped. The beginning of each watch was always his favorite part of his job. The awe and gratitude in the eyes of people he didn’t know, it gave value to every hour spent in mediation and pouring over the Code.
He spared them a wave back before he turned his attention to the shadows. The watch always started with a hunt. Banking over the streets, he scanned the alleys and corners of the city. While many creatures of darkness could walk through the firelight, the most dangerous stayed hidden, coiled like serpents ready to strike from their holes. The vampires were the least of his worries. No, when the sun had died, beings crafted from the essence of shadows crept onto the world and curled up within the darkest spaces to wait and breed.
They were trying to take over Varil, snuff out every light and claim the world for their own. The Watch were the primary defenders of the cities throughout the world. People of all races and creeds had banded together against the darkness that sought to devour their home. The gods had gifted them cloaks of color that could capture the light of the stars and moon and store it for use.
A scream caught Canith’s attention and he quickly arced down an alley, his eyes searching through the inky blackness. And then he saw her running, sprinting from light to light as though seeking islands in a dark sea of chaos. An undulating mass followed her, only visible in the edges of the light where the shadows rippled and coiled away from the dim glow of candles in the windows.
The woman sought the safety of the street where lanterns kept the beasts at bay, but she wasn’t going to make it.
Canith swept in, landing in the darkness between the woman and her pursuer. Lost in her terror, the woman continued sprinting for the street ahead and the protection it offered. Canith spread his wings in the shadows, watching the darkness.
There was a pause, a moment where time held its breath. All went silent around Canith.
You cannot fight us, a voice whispered in his mind.
“Watch me,” Canith said aloud as he closed his eyes and willed his wings to shed light.
The alley burst into a flare of brilliant multi-colored lights, and Canith heard the creature scream in his mind. He willed the light to shine until the scream had faded into an echo.
You cannot banish the darkness. We always return.
These damned creatures always said the same damned thing when they died.
The problem was, Canith knew they were right. The Watch would destroy what they could and more would take the place of the fallen. He glanced over his shoulder to make sure the woman was nowhere to be seen before he leapt back into the air to find the next enemy.
It didn’t matter that they were right. He knew when he accepted his promotion into the Watch that the fight would be endless, that he might die any day fighting against an enemy countless as the empty spaces between the stars. He was only here to do what good he could with the time he had, to help hold them off until an answer was found.
This was his world. He was not giving it up without a fight.