◦°☆ ᴍᴏᴏɴʀɪsᴇ--ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 0 ☆°◦

Instructions

-ˏˋ⠀sᴛᴀʀᴛ ᴏғ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ⠀ˊˎ- THE SKY was dark with ashes, the sun obscured by lazy circles of rising smoke. The sound of many boots pounded outside a little, half-destroyed cottage. Inside, a small pot hung over a tiny, sputtering fire, and there was no sound but that of the bubbling soup inside it. A crude chair sat in the corner, where a tired-looking woman huddled with two small children, presumably her children. Her belly was softly rounded with the promise of a third. The younger child was sucking on a tattered and dirty blanket, his eyes never wandering from the charred door. The elder sat and stared at nothing, her mouth slightly open. The woman nudged the girl, and she jolted slightly. "Now is not the time to walk amongst the nightmares," she whispered sharply. The girl nodded silently and curled into a ball, leaning against the wall. The boy spoke, his gaze never leaving the door. "Has Luna been dream-jumping again?" he asked, his voice curiously calm for a young child in such circumstances. "Have you been casting your emotions?" the girl retorted, her tone accusing. "I must, else my mind will be flooded with unreasonable fears and instincts," the boy replied, tugging harder on the blanket he clutched. The woman gave a weary sigh and leaned her head back. "Yes, but you're not just casting your emotions, you're heart-swapping," the girl persisted, scowling. "Peace," the woman commanded. "Now is no time to bicker." The silence fell once more. "Luna, go check on the soup, will you?" the woman said after a few minutes. The girl reluctantly got up and went to peer into the pot. "There's hardly anything in there to call soup," she remarked, standing on her tiptoes to reach the wooden bowls that were lined up on a shelf. Struggling to balance the ladle and the heavy bowl, she managed to spoon a small amount of watery soup into each bowl. The boy glanced at his bowl and wrinkled his nose. "It's nothing but herbs and cabbage with some water," he complained. His mother looked at him, her mouth tightening around the corners. "Eat," she said. "There are many who can't." Luna drank her soup in a few gulps, scraping the last drops out with a piece of stale bread. "At least eat your bread, Solis," she chided, thrusting a piece into his hand. He took it and broke off a piece but did not bring it to his mouth. As night descended, the sound of marching slowly died away and then ceased. The inhabitants of the cottage slowly relaxed as the moon rose higher. Luna was half asleep, her head nodding. Her mother's eyes were already closed. Only Solis stood alert, making no movement except to blink occasionally. Luna let herself slide into the world of darkness, the one she liked much better than that of day. Here, she was in her element. Flickers of dreams floated past, and she snatched at an especially tantalizing one, a cozy Christmas-like scene. Snow lay in thick drifts outside, and the chairs were cushioned--a luxury many did not have. But then the dream flickered, and Luna's shoulders slumped. It was just like all the others. The wind began to howl, and snow threw itself against the windows. Monsters screamed in the distance, and the smell of smoke filled the air. Luna shoved the nightmare away and curled up, safe in the empty darkness once more. It was her gift, her curse. She was a dreamwalker, but not just any dreamwalker. She was a domina umbrarum, a Lady of the Shadows. One who walked amongst nightmares. -ˏˋ ᴇɴᴅ ᴏғ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ˊˎ-