《Thorned Moon》

Chapter 4: The New Moon Witch

The ominous black wolf lurked in the shadows of the night, its piercing gaze fixed on her.

A sudden interruption broke the tense silence as six barrels of wine rolled into the gathering, shattering the uneasy atmosphere. When the dusty lids were pried open, the sweet liquid poured out, melting the cold of the night and finally setting the stage for the pre-journey celebration.

A crescent moon, bright as a silver sickle, rose in the sky, adorned with a few twinkling stars. The green forest canopy was dusted with snow, and most of the girls had come prepared. Dressed in delicate white gowns, their heads crowned with laurel wreaths, and with sleek silver-painted bows strapped to their backs, they embodied the new moon goddess, capturing her fresh, youthful energy.

If the full moon symbolized perfection and maturity—a night of completion for the elder witches—then the new moon, with its cat-like slit eyes, embodied imperfection and potential. It was a night for the younger girls, a time for revelry before their long and solitary journey ahead.

The new moon goddess was both youthful and fierce, her form as pure as the first snow of spring. With her silver bow engraved with symbols of purity and the hunt, she ran through forests and streams, protecting the orphaned and the helpless. Her bow remained ever-present, high in the night sky, guiding lost souls on their journey.

Tonight, the young witches would dance and sing under the new moon. It was their last night in Miller’s Valley, the last night of innocence before they ventured alone into the dark world to hunt the wolf king’s head. This was their rite of passage, a celebration of their transformation into full-fledged witches.

Dazed by the wine, Marlo couldn't help but smile as the warmth of the alcohol and the sweet fragrance of the wine settled into her veins. What started as unease faded into exhilaration, and her body felt as though it had split in two: one part intoxicated by the swirling fruit scents and the soft moonlight, while the other remained acutely aware, detached, watching everything unfold.

She heard Guness' arrow hit its target with a satisfying thud, causing cheers to rise from the crowd. Her instinct led her to chase the arrow's path, but instead, she saw the silver bow of the new moon goddess glinting high on a bare branch. The bow stood tall, shining like the goddess' weapon, with snow clinging to the tips of the branches, and a lone star hung just above it.

In her hazy daze, Marlo imagined that with a single pull from the goddess, a shooting star could fall to earth, a sign to fulfill her most simple wish. "All I need is one little star," she thought, her thoughts drifting.

"Lost in summer dreams, are we?"

A voice interrupted her reverie, pulling her attention to a young girl sitting beside her. The girl, with honey-brown curls spilling lazily over her shoulders, held an oak barrel that was half-empty.

"The Summer Dream, brewed once every hundred years, if Lady Perrin finds out, she’ll have us all boxed up like drunken chicks, left to ferment for a century."

Her parrot familiar, perched on her shoulder, chirped in agreement, "Chicks! Chicks!"

Nearby, a drunken Helina laughed, oblivious, but when she heard the comment, she instantly spit out the wine she had been sipping, causing another round of laughter.

Marlo, not yet drunk enough to lose all clarity, recognized the clever familiar perched beside the girl. "Katrina?"

Katrina, now fully grown and more beautiful than ever, wore a thick green cloak over her white gown. The rich color of her cloak complemented her deep brown hair and rose-colored lips. She had always been the one to make the rules in their games, and now, every gesture of hers held the air of someone who had matured and ripened like a honeyed fruit.

Lately, Katrina had been unusually close to Marlo, perhaps because they both shared a bond with their bird familiars. The bird hopped off her shoulder, playing with the large white goose as they tilted their heads at each other, both curious in their own way.

Katrina leaned in, her voice soft but teasing. "A bottle of Summer Dream and a pretty face, the most common love potion used by the mortals of the Junli River."

Katrina had an air of being the only sober one among a crowd of drunken revelers, but she couldn’t help but spill her secrets. "It was either my mother or father, but some commoner managed to seduce a noble. If the spouse found out… well, it could have ended badly. But luckily, my lady passed by, and the man offered a bottle of Summer Dream to beg her to take me away."

Katrina shook her head, her tone light but darkened by the memory. "Ever since, I've realized that every time I drink, something bad always happens. Look, after we finish this drink, we'll be heading to our deaths."

Marlo couldn't help but feel the tension in the air, and yet, it was immediately broken by a louder, more boisterous voice.

"Then let's drink to death!"

The wild energy of Bejie, a fiery girl from the South, softened her deadly edge. Her dance was elegant but fierce, her honeyed brown skin glistening with sweat. The silver scales of her serpent familiar curled around her waist, supporting her as she moved with power and grace.

Marlo quickly realized she was likely the only one still sober in the group.

"Eh?"

Katrina leaned in, intrigued by something Marlo was holding. "A vanity box?"

Marlo, for the first time, had a chance to admire her birthday gift. The box had an exotic design, familiar yet foreign. In the center, a red werewolf held a wooden stringed instrument, attempting to enchant a dark-skinned girl. The colors were strange yet captivating, drawing her in with a sense of foreboding.

"This is a part of Lady Mida’s grand fable, isn’t it?"

Bejie, who had suddenly appeared beside them, grinned, her hair damp from the dance, her body coated in the sweat of the evening. She looked at the box, her excitement palpable.

Marlo instinctively shrank back, not trusting Bejie’s presence. She always sneaked up on her, pulling her into crushing embraces. Since Bejie had acquired the venomous mercury snake, her embraces had become even more dangerous.

Bejie, however, paid no mind. "Look at this— a red wolf! I bet this is from the fables of Baifole, the 'Scarlet Poet' loves their beautiful girls! My aunt used to tell stories about how he slowly ate them, starting from their fingers. And after, he'd write a eulogy for them, which always comes true."

Marlo was taken aback by the bizarre conversation, but Bejie’s infectious laughter brought everyone into the mood. Even Katrina couldn’t resist joining in.

As they played the fable game, their revelry grew more intense. The witches acted out different roles, their laughter ringing in the cold air. The night was young, and the fables spoke of wolves and the moon, of blood and loss.

Marlo leaned back, sipping from her cup. She was no longer just a girl waiting for the next challenge; she was now part of something greater. With the night stretching before her, she could feel a shift in herself.

She had made a wish, one simple wish— a star. And somehow, with the moon above her and the laughter of friends around her, she felt as though it might just come true.

But in the end, all was fleeting. For tomorrow, the hunt would begin.

Marlo woke to the rough jolt of movement. The next morning, she and Helina were being carried on the back of an ox. The warmth of the ox's back was comforting, as its long tail swished to drive away the flies.

She had woken up in Mida's home, the soft light of morning pouring through the windows. She had a strange sense of comfort. She had survived the night, but what came next would be her true test.

In this chapter, we see Marlo, like the other young witches, stepping into her fate. Her wish to understand where she came from, combined with the events of the night, will set her on a path that merges both the magical and the mundane.