Once upon a time, there was a girl named Selene.
“My beautiful daughter of the moon,” her mother, Helen, murmured as she cradled her newborn in her arms.
“Yes,” agreed her father, Petrus. “Beautiful.” Privately, the name made him a little uneasy. The moon, while radiant, was notoriously variable- and Petrus had no business with things that could not be depended upon. But he loved his wife, and so kept his opinions to himself.
Thankfully enough, his misgivings proved to be entirely unfounded, for Selene was as diligent and dependable as any parent could hope for. Before she even learned to read, she would seek out ways to help around her father’s inn- sweeping floors, washing tabletops, and even helping her mother sew quilts for the beds of the guests. This last one was her favorite, as Helen loved to stitch stories into the fabric of her creations. From pieces of cloth she would form images of the strange and fantastical beasts that inhabited the Dark Forest, and the daring and bold heroes that ventured forth to confront them. As she pieced them together, she would recite their stories out loud to an eagerly listening Selene.
“Have we ever had a hero stay here?” Selene asked her mother one evening after a particularly exciting tale. Her mother paused mid-stitch, expression thoughtful.
“I don’t know,” she replied. “Perhaps we have! It isn’t always easy to tell whether someone is a hero just by looking at them. We may have served one without ever knowing it! Isn’t that exciting?”
Selene couldn’t agree more. Any of their guests could be a hero in disguise? How thrilling! “How do you tell who’s a hero?” she asked.
“Well,” answered Helen slowly, “a hero is kind, selfless, and brave. They put the needs of others before their own. They treat every living thing with respect and dignity. And they always stand up to protect people from danger, even when they are afraid.”
“What about fighting monsters?” asked Selene.
Her mother laughed. “Not all heroes fight monsters, my dearest. And when they do, they don’t do it just to fight monsters. They do it to protect the people they love.”
“Oh,” said Selene. She was quiet for a moment as she processed this. “Are you a hero?” she asked.
Helen laughed again and swept her daughter into an embrace. “I try to be, my dearest daughter,” she answered. “I will keep you safe, to my last breath. I promise.”
Selene thought about her mother’s words about heroes often, although she retained a keen interest in stories about the creatures of the Dark Forest.