◦°☆ ᴍᴏᴏɴʀɪsᴇ--ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 2 ☆°◦

Instructions

-ˏˋ⠀sᴛᴀʀᴛ ᴏғ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ⠀ˊˎ- Solis lay slumped on the floor. His sister smacked him for the third time, an exasperated look on her face. "Stop moping," she scolded. "We've talked about this so. Many. Times. Before." Solis moaned. "I can't be seen in public right now," he said. "Why not?" Luna inquired frostily. Solis pointed limply to his hair, which was glowing so brightly it hurt her eyes to look at it. "So?" she said, smacking him again. "Get UP, Solis. Who cares if your hair looks like the sun?" "I wish I was dead," Solis said, not answering her question. "I'm cursed. I'm doomed. I can do naught but lie here in eternal lamentation." "Your hair is glowing. Big deal." "It's hideous," Solis groaned, letting his hand fall to the ground. "You're unbelievable. Lots of people would be thrilled if their hair started glowing." "I'm not most people. I'm a shadow, hidden and discreet. I'm mysterious, sneaking from one place to the next without a whisper of sound. I move like a cat." Luna snorted. "Or I would be, without this...this...atrocity on my head," Solis amended. "Shut up and stop whining, brother," Luna snapped, yanking him up. "I don't waaanna," he whined, scrabbling for the floor. "You should be ashamed of yourself, Solis," Luna grunted, trying make him stand. "I am," he said, trying to get loose from her arms. Luna abruptly dropped him on the floor. "Fine, stay here. See if I care." Solis didn't move or reply. Giving him one last kick to make sure he knew she disapproved, she left the cottage. They'd repaired it after the fire, and it had been a happy home. For a while. When Mother disappeared, taking her newborn son with her, Luna and Solis had suddenly been all alone, left to fend for themselves. Luna stopped to watch as boys and girls her own age flitted past, giggling and running around. The other village children her and Solis's age were still laughing and playing. Still lighthearted. Luna smiled bitterly. Orphans grew up fast. They had to. Especially when you were a speciales vires. The legends about her kind were old as the hills and just as varied. Some said speciales vires were descended from an ancient race of elves, others that they were formed of pure magic. Some even said that they were the kin of dragons. Luna shook her head and continued walking. She needed various things from the village market, such as fabric to make herself a new dress, and soap for Solis, who had recently stopped washing his hair in hopes that it would become too dirty for his glow to be seen. It looked worse than a bird's nest. She fingered the hem of her tattered dress. She and Solis didn't have much money, but her dress was practically falling apart. She didn't need much cloth to squeeze a dress out, even the dress ended up a bit patched. But she desperately needed the soap, or the smell of Solis's hair would call more attention that the not at all diminished glow. And as soon as she got it, she was going to march her silly brother down the river and toss him in and scrub him until the week of grime was entirely washed off, and then she would hit him a few times, just for good measure. And maybe throw the soap at him. She was so busy in plotting how best to punish Solis she didn't even notice the young man until they plowed into each other. Luna fell to the ground, wincing as she scraped her palm on the cobblestones. The man halted. "Oh, I'm terribly sorry, miss," he said, reaching down to help her to her feet. Then stopped, and gasped. Luna felt a tremble of fear. Slowly she reached up. Shaken loose by her fall, her hair had parted to reveal softly pointed ears. Ears she had tried so hard to hide. The man watched her with wide eyes. "You're...a speciales vires," he whispered. Luna was frozen with shock, hand still fingering the points. This was the thing that marked speciales vires, the thing that set them apart. He stepped back. "You're dangerous," he stated flatly. Luna's breathing quickened "You don't have to turn me in," she pleaded. "It's not what it looks like." "Correction: You WON'T have to turn her in," said a voice behind the man. "Because this never happened. She's perfectly normal and very harmless. You're being very rude; apologize to the lady, won't you, Carl?" The man went white with terror when he heard the voice. "Of course, of course," he stammered. "Won't happen again, never happened in the first place. Very sorry for knocking you over, miss." Then he fled, looking as though he'd been scared out of his wits. Behind him was a boy about her age. He bowed. "Lord Lepos, at your service," he said. "But you probably know me better as the Elvish Lord." -ˏˋ ᴇɴᴅ ᴏғ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ˊˎ-