Celestial Seas Writing Prompts

It was a starry night, just like any other. Constellations twinkle overhead, and the moon is full and bright, casting her soft glow across the land, creating prolonged shadows that stretch beyond the rocks and trees.
A crisp evening wind weaves its breeze through the gaps and crevices of columns and ruins, creating an almost ethereal atmosphere, as though a ghostly singing could be heard throughout the field of stone. The crickets chirp subtly in the grass, occasionally interrupted by a rustle of leaves as a forest dweller passes through.

Though beautiful and tranquil, it was lonely. The remains of a once prosperous town had been left in mother earth's hands for quite some time now, as sprouts began to blossom through the crevices of the toppled marble, moss now blanketing what used to be the bricks and walls of a home. Moon flowers glowed softly as they swayed in the wind, roots curling around the wooden frames of a mother's old bed and a child's old toys.

A lone satyr sits on the grass, back against a large boulder as he gazes at the full moon, eyes just as wide and bright. He knew these winds and stones and stars like the back of his hand. A familiar friend, a home. He'd seen a night like this one for as long as he could remember. The days blurred into months and years... but still, he would not leave this place. He was grounded here: by magic, will, or some sort of higher power, or maybe a combination of all three. But ever since he had taken his first breath, deep in his soul he knew this was where he was meant to be. As if the magical roots of the earth were tethered to his feet, and their hearts beat together as one.

Sometimes, on occasion, he would get flashes. Random ghosts of things, the sounds of a bustling square, trotting hooves and children laughing. He didn't know what they meant, really. But out of the corner of his eye, on certain nights, he might spot a figure in a long dress walking between the columns, their form flashing in and out of sight as the pillars hid them. Other times, a house that he knew for certain was not there before. With a solid, sturdy roof, bricks that did not have moss growing between them, no char marks or burnt down doors and windows with shattered glass covered in soot. Instead, full of color and life. You could almost hear a family having a hearty dinner inside. But when he went to open the door, paws tentative and hand outstretched, fingers wrapped around the handle, he would push the door, and...
Nothing. The interior seemed to crumble away, the rubble left by from a devastating fire. Ashes floated in the air like wispy motes, the frame collapsed onto itself, the edges sharp like the teeth of a wounded animal in its final throes. The remnants of plates and furniture shattered on the ground, caked in soot and untouched for years. A Muse's Treasure that looked like it would have been brilliant and shiny in another time lay rusted and cracked on the dirt floor between broken floorboards.

A cold, lonely wind blows through the satyr's smokey hair as his body sags, his curiosity and hope fading.  Instances like these were fleeting, but gave him hope that maybe he was not the only person here. He had been alone for so long... He clung to moments like these, trying to piece together what exactly this place was, who used to be here, what had happened to leave it in such a state, and why, exactly, he just could not bring himself to leave.

He would tread back to his usual spot, large fluffy tail trailing behind him, in front of what seemed to be a crumbled alter with a broken statue of a barely distinguishable woman holding a crescent moon. It was where he felt the safest, where he felt a little more reassured when things looked rough or uncertain. He couldn't exactly place why. Perhaps she was watching over him.

***

The nights went on, the same idle longing tugging at the satyr's heart as he paced this abandoned ghost town. This particular evening however, he could not help but stare beyond the trees, across the hills and stone and beyond the stars in the sky. He wondered what kind of life was out there. Were there other creatures like him? Others bound to their lands like he? Did animals roam free, were there prosperous cities? There were times he tried to leave, sure, but he'd find he physically could not, as if his feet were weighed down by iron, refusing to move further. It was always as if the ruins were calling to him, begging, "Watch out for me! Please, stay." And so, he would turn right round, ready to keep vigilant and ward off any threat or danger he would see.

But tonight his curiosity was so piqued, it was all he could think about as he stared one more time at that large, full moon as she sat in her sky, looking down at him softly. Did the moon cover the whole sky? Could she be seen from other places on the land, too? What did the view look like from there? He was so lost in thought, transfixed at the sky and all her children, that he did not immediately notice some of stars twinkling brightly suddenly. Blinking, he would squint in its direction. Sure, the stars flashed sometimes, but not as brightly as this, and not all together... The closer his brows furrowed, tail puffy and alert, the closer the stars seemed to get-- as if it was a ceiling, falling, falling, collapsing all around him. Alarmed and overwhelmed with a sense of vertigo and freefall, the satyr staggers, his chest tight and breath short. He found himself on his knees then, not knowing exactly how he ended up there. But when he blinked the stars out of his eyes, overwhelmed, he looked back up at the moon--

Only to find she wasn't there. Bewildered, he spins in place, looking around the corners of the sky. But there was nothing there, just a deep blue space where she should be. He was afraid.

The moon was his tether to this earth-- he had a deep connection with her. So to see she was missing, he felt like a piece of his soul had been taken away. He could sense it, this magical absence that no longer flowed within his body and coated his fur like the warm hug of a blanket on a chilly night. The tips of his fingers felt cold. In fact his entire body, which was always pulsating with warmth like a gentle hearth due to his fire aspect, felt unbearably cool, as if a switch had been turned off, a fireplace put out. The temperature of the entire area seemed to drop, a brisk breeze ruffling his hair and causing the embers on his fur to flicker.

And yet...

With the cold came another feeling. Like something very heavy had been lifted off his shoulders. As if his entire life he had weight bogging him down, making him sluggish. But that weight was gone now. He felt light as a feather, both inside and out, almost like a spirit. The realization of what this could possibly mean slowly started to dawn on him as his ears began to gradually raise from their flat stance on his head. He'd steal a glance at the mountain in the distance. He wanted to go...

One foot after the other, slowly, tentatively, he began to walk towards that mountain that he had been only dreaming of from his enclosure so bad. As soon as he had reached the part of the ruins that he had pretty much memorized as the "border", he braced himself to feel like his feet were made of lead again, giving a forceful kick forward, eyes squinted shut and ears pressed flat to his head. But no resistance came. He walked through the grass like nothing had happened. He couldn't help the gasp of surprise that left his lips, or the wide smile across his face. What did this mean? Whatever it was, he did not want to dwell on it, and continued to walk forward, tentative steps becoming a brisk walk, then a jog. What was this!! He takes a deep breath, embracing the cool air, looking and taking in anything he can hungrily. He had never seen anything beyond the ruins. Though he was not too far just yet, even the sight of simple flowers and new rocks exited him, things in places that he had not memorized a hundred times over. A small blue bird he had never seen before was sleeping in a tree nearby, head tucked into its wing. A bush of purple flowers with large petals was wedged between two rocks. Everything filled him with wonder.

The further the satyr got from the ruins however, the colder it became. At first, he was not bothered, but as the grass and leaves started to wilt and turn brown, light cold flakes clumping in their place, he began to slow his pace. He was not sure where he was going. He was simply moving forward. Should he continue? He turned his head back, thinking it over, but once he looked ahead again, he was startled to see a figure in the distance. Squinting, it appeared to be a wolf, standing on a snowy hill further down. He stared at it a bit longer, until the wolf turned heel and continued ahead, growing smaller. And somehow, the further they got, the more inclined the satyr was to follow. It was as though an invisible string had connected the two, tying them together and dragging him along. He found himself drawn to this new being, and soon found himself pressing further through the snow, leaving paw prints in his wake.

The scenery gradually began to change, the winds growing stronger. Pretty soon, all the flora was gone, and the landscape became barren. A blanket of white as far as the satyr could see. There was nothing to guide him, no landmarks, aside from that feeling in his gut. The wolf did not leave any footprints, but somehow, he knew where it had gone. The gale eventually started kicking up snow, making the trek even harder. But the satyr prevailed, fighting his way uphill through the blizzard. The sheer fact he was here at this moment only spurred him forth. In all those years, he had never left the ruins. So surely, this must be a sign? He didn't want to let this chance go.

Things only became more difficult the farther he went, but this only made him try to persist just as hard. Where had the moon gone? Had the wolf eaten her? Perhaps that was why he felt so drawn to it. He had to go retrieve her, bring her back. Rubbing his hands together, he breathes fire, warming them and keeping his body temperature up. He extends his wings and wraps them around himself, shielding his body from the frigid winds. It was both a blessing and a curse that he had such a wide frame-- the wind was beating against him harshly, but he was able to stand his ground. Eventually, even his aura breath seemed to freeze, turning into cold puffs of smoke, the embers on his body flickering less brightly than usual. He could no longer feel his paws, his extremities numb, his whiskers frozen with little icicles weighing them down.

He felt as though he had been trekking through this barren landscape forever. Just when he was beginning to feel uncertain, the first landmark showed itself in the distance. A building of some sort. It was pretty close by-- perhaps he hadn't seen it sooner due to the kicked up snow and flurries. Huddling closer to himself, his tail twitches, curious. What was this? What was it doing all the way out here? He finds himself right in front of it now. It was a rather tall construction, but all its windows were broken, its frame cracked, concrete caked with ice. He places a hand to the wall. What happened here? He had so many questions. He was glad to be shielded from the wind however. As he looked around and out one of the windows, he sees the wolf again, this time closer than ever, their eyes locked. His ears perk in surprise. "Wait!"

However, it turns around, and begins to leave again. Hale unfortunately was too big to fit through the window to give immediate chase, so in a spur of the moment reaction, he beats his wings with a powerful thrust and exits through the broken top of the building. He cannot sustain flight for too long however, as the thin membranes of his wings were freezing fast, making it hard for him to move them.

"Did you take the moon?" He calls out, voice drowned out by the wind. No answer. Brows furrowed, he makes an impromptu nosedive as fast as he can. He can see the wolf getting closer and closer-- he extends his claws, ready to grab them, bracing for the feeling of their fur between his hands and--

THUD. He lands face first in the snow.

What-- huh?? Kicking, he manages to free himself from the wedged pile of snow he was in and shakes himself, snowflakes flying everywhere. Where had they gone? He was certain he had them. He turns a full three-sixty, searching the landscape, before he is startled by a large wolf, at least three times his size, suddenly right in his face, its warm breath in his hair. Or rather... breaths... this wolf, whatever it was, had two heads.

"I did not take the moon." It replies, its four eyes piercing.

"You did."