The Gentle Moon
1150 Words
Leonar returned home…
But his steps did not belong to someone who had arrived —
they belonged to someone walking without awareness, as if the road itself was guiding him, not the other way around.
His thoughts swarmed in his head like restless bees,
crashing against the walls of his mind without mercy.
One question rose above them all:
How?
How did that man know what happened to the princess?
How did he reach the village before the royal rider?
How did he arrive so quickly… without a horse, without a trace, without any presence that made sense?
Leonar lowered his head as he walked, his teeth clenched tight.
"I'm… losing my mind."
He whispered it once.
Then again.
As if repeating it might give it meaning.
"I'm losing my mind…"
He didn't come back to himself until he found his hand on the door of his house.
He stopped.
Stared at it for a moment… as if he didn't remember how he got there.
Then he knocked lightly… and stepped inside.
Everything was just as he had left it.
The fire still burned in the hearth, its flames swaying gently,
casting shifting shadows of old furniture along the walls —
as if they were trying to tell him something… something he couldn't understand.
He closed the door behind him and slowly removed his boots.
He took a few steps toward his bed…
Then stopped.
Something inside him made him turn.
He walked toward his mother's room, paused at the doorway, and looked in.
She was asleep.
Peacefully.
Her face calm, her breathing steady… as though the world had never touched her with harm.
And in that moment…
something unfamiliar stirred inside him.
Comfort.
Belonging.
Strange… how a person can suffocate inside his own home,
then breathe again just by seeing the one he loves.
He lowered his gaze slightly… then turned away.
He reached his bed, sleep already spilling across his face,
and fell onto it without resistance.
He didn't think.
Didn't analyze.
Didn't try to understand anything.
And for the first time in a long while…
He slept.
No strange visions.
No restless dreams.
Everything… grew still.
Night settled gently over the edges of the village.
The tension withdrew like waves retreating after a storm.
A warm breeze drifted from the forest, slipping between the houses
as if it had come to apologize for the cruelty of the past nights.
Trees swayed softly.
The sky was partly veiled with clouds, torn here and there by pale light.
And the moon…
Shone in full.
Resting at the heart of the sky, as if it dared the sun itself —
claiming its place over the darkness.
A quiet night…
Too quiet.
The kind of night where even the smallest creature dares to emerge.
Clouds drifted slowly above the trees, casting faint shadows beneath them,
then continued on toward the kingdom…
From afar, it almost seemed as though they would crash into the towering spires of the castle.
A scene… that might not repeat itself for decades.
On the other side…
There was no peace.
Karfin stood inside the princess's chamber, staring out through the window.
His eyes were still…
But nothing inside him was.
He held a glass of wine, as though the ground itself shifted beneath him —
yet it was his hand that betrayed him.
The glass trembled.
And with it… his breath.
Not fear.
Anger.
A slow, seeping anger, creeping through him like poison.
Suddenly—
He threw the glass.
It shattered against the floor, rolling until it stopped near the feet of a maid standing far in the corner.
She was trembling.
The other sister.
The one he had spared… after their failure.
She lifted her eyes toward him —
but couldn't hold his gaze.
He stepped closer.
His voice was low…
But far more terrifying than a scream.
"If you fail… you'll die like your sister."
He paused.
As if savoring what came next.
"If the princess lives… I won't grant you death."
A faint smile touched his lips.
"Not until you beg for it."
She froze.
Said nothing.
Couldn't.
She lowered her head and asked, barely audibly, for permission to leave.
He waved his hand without care.
She left.
And the moment she passed the door…
She leaned against the wall.
Her breathing broke apart.
"I have to run…"
She whispered.
Her eyes shut tight.
"I can't trust… the man who killed my sister."
Elsewhere…
Life was returning.
Slowly.
Princess Aliana woke.
Her eyes opened with effort, as if she were rising from a deep, endless darkness.
She saw the ceiling first…
Then the light…
Then the weight pressing down on her.
She tried to move.
Her body resisted.
She was weak.
Fragile.
But…
Alive.
The king stood beside her.
Relief did not show on his face.
Something else did.
Something closer to tension.
"You're awake."
His voice was steady.
She looked at him…
But no words came.
The Lady stepped forward, placing a gentle hand on her forehead.
"Don't move too much… you're still weak, my child."
Aliana tried to speak…
But her voice failed her.
The king turned to the Lady.
"When can we leave?"
She met his gaze directly.
"Not now."
Silence.
But his expression hardened.
As if…
He did not want to remain here.
Yet he gave no reason.
Two hours later — at the break of dawn…
Leonar woke.
Quietly.
In a way he wasn't used to.
He opened his eyes…
and the weight that had haunted him for days was gone.
He sat up slowly, ran a hand over his face, and took a deep breath.
Something inside him…
Had settled.
He dressed and stepped outside.
The village had begun to breathe again.
People moved, spoke… but the whispers remained.
He headed toward the market.
He needed a few things.
Simple things.
Things that belonged to an ordinary life.
If only for a moment.
Then—
He stopped.
A new voice echoed through the market.
One he had never heard before.
"Come, come! Precious keepsakes and rare gifts! Only from the traders of crystal stones!"
Leonar turned.
A man stood behind a small table, displaying various items.
Ornate figures…
Jewelry not made of gold…
But silver…
And shimmering colored stones.
Leonar approached without thinking.
He reached out… and picked up a necklace.
At its center — a radiant white gem.
Around it — smaller stones of deep crimson.
He stared at it.
Deeply.
Something about it…
Pulled him in.
He didn't know why.
He lost himself in its details…
So completely…
That he didn't notice anything else.
Not even—
The presence beside him.
And then—
A voice.
Clear. Close. Unfamiliar.
"Just tell me… are you going to buy it, or not?"
Leonar jerked back, as if pulled from a dream.
He lifted his head—
And froze.
Because he wasn't alone.
Standing beside him…
Was her.
- Writer
