Sun And Moon

[Medium]

Good morning, my friends! For those who saw my status updates, you know what this is, it's the animatic fic!!

If you didn't see that, allow me to enlighten you;

This animatic below, is adorable and I am writing a fic on it. I've completed the first chapter, it's a short story so the chapters/parts are not very long or very varied in length. I'm quite proud with how this first one came out so please, watch the animatic and enjoy what I drew from about the first thirty seconds of the video and wrote a story on.

Animatic;

Spoiler

 

Part I:

Spoiler

There is a tale, from long, long ago. A tale of the Sun, a tale of the Moon, a tale of the bond they forged.

Local folklore suggests that the Sun and Moon had always been apart, and then they were together, and now they’re together and apart, somehow at the same time. Folklore is confusing like that sometimes.

While the actual bodies in the sky of the sun and the moon are not the characters of this story, instead we have the two beings connected to them. Phillip, and Kristin.

Phillip, or Phil, was a mortal man, born to mortal parents, with mortal siblings, in a mortal village. He grew up adventurous, always journeying out into the nearby wetlands and forest to see what he could find. He’d find snakes, he’d find flowers, always bringing them back to show his family. The snakes made his sisters scream, and the flowers always went to his mother. His mother repaid his kindness by sewing him a cloak, the same deep green as the wetlands, with a large embroidered sunflower on the back. There was a patch of sunflowers, a little deep into the wetlands, where the sun shone fully, and those were his favorite to tend to and bring back. It became his nickname, Sunflower, to everyone. His family, his friends, his village.

Days he would spend in the wetlands, with the sun filtering through the trees, shining gently on the water, where the snakes and fish swam. Despite the heat and humidity, he felt content and calm while in the wetlands.

On one particular adventure he found a wall of vines. While that may seem uneventful, he pushed through, finding a small moat inside. The moat surrounded an island, and in the middle of that island sat a tall, gnarled tree, whose branches extended high above, draping the wall of vines down. A secluded little spot. Phil was elated, and decided to keep this one spot secret. There was a small patch of sunlight next to the tree, where a gap in the branches above let it shine down.

He’d spend many days there. While unkempt at first, and too overgrown, he trimmed and pruned a little here and there, turning it into an orderly chaotic garden. With his help, flowers bloomed, cornflowers and hydrangeas, snapdragon and, in the night, moonflowers.

He grew up there, passing his childhood, passing his teens, growing up into his twenties. His cloak became worn, well worn and well cared for with the passing of time. He commonly paired it with a deep brown tunic, and soft green trousers of similar color to the cloak. He had spent many years building a small cottage on the outskirts of the wetlands, just past the border of the village, where he was always close to his favorite place. He knew the stories of magic, of course, and trusted in the magic of the wetlands to keep him safe. The Old Magic was strong here, after all his toil kept it thriving. The Old Magic knew his essence, and responded jovially when he journeyed deep into the heart of the wetlands.

He loved it here. He didn’t want to leave. He vowed never to leave, not if anything happened. His hideaway had remained hidden all this time, no one finding it, and over the years it had matured, flourishing with all its flowers. It was his most favorite place. He would never leave it.

 

And that’s exactly when he decided to leave it.

I'll continue to post updates here as the story grows, but I'm really proud of how quickly it's coming along, and I will see this through!!

[The Wandering Wizard]

Zee cliff hanger is killing me.

[Medium]

Working on part II right now :3

[Morningtide]

I love it!!!!!!!

[Mr. Misting]

Of course its a cliffhanger. Solid opening.

[Medium]

Part II:

Spoiler

Our other character, Kristin, was one with the Old Magic. She was very connected to it, through the Moon. She and the Moon were close friends, but the Moon did not act like a friend who was human would.

The Moon was the Moon, and could not leave its throne in the sky. But Kristin, so ingrained with Old Magic, wandered the world, living peacefully. Finding areas to sit and wait, with good tea and a long book, for the Moon to rise so she could talk to it.

The Moon didn’t respond with any more than feelings, but Kristin enjoyed her talks with Him.

One rather fateful day, as the Sun watched from above, warming the ground and the grass, Kristin found her way to the wetlands. The same wetlands where Phil lived. She found his hideaway, his little island surrounded by a dome of flowers and life.

She immediately fell in love with the place, and sat in the spot where the sun shone, with her tea, and a good book, to read in peace while she waited for the Moon.

It was any normal day for her.

And it quickly became abnormal.

From farther away, on the edge of the wetlands, the Old Magic whispered to Phil. Whispered about the presence of a person, in the wetlands.

Phil didn’t think much of it. People went into the wetlands all the time, Phil didn’t own the place.

He went back to his task, trimming the rose bushes that grew outside his little cottage.

The Old Magic whispered again, whispered about the power of the person in the wetlands. Whispered that it knew them.

This time, Phil listened. He put his shears down, went inside his cottage, and grabbed his hat. It was a wide brimmed hat, made of green and white strips of fabric, and he had made it himself. He loved his hat, he did.

He struck out into the wetlands, trusting in the Old Magic as usual, searching for the stranger who was present.

In all the places Phil thought they would be, they were not. He decided to search one final place, although he doubted someone had found the place. He made his way to the island and moat, his favorite place. Surely it hadn’t been discovered.

He stepped up to the wall of vines, the water coming up just past his ankles. The water didn’t bother him, it never had. He reached out, brushing the vines away, leaving an opening for him to see in. The hydrangeas parted, and he saw her.

He stared in shock. A woman, with long hair past her shoulders, the color of mahogany. She wore a white dress, the sleeves and skirt of which were loose and flowy, like water. She had a hat, white as well, tilted to cover the back of her neck, wider even than Phil’s hat.

She sat against the tree, in the spot where the sun shone, with a book in her hand, a content smile upon her lips, and a teacup next to her.

Phil, on the other side of the moat, simply stared. He had never seen her before, and he knew everyone who journeyed into the wetlands. The woman turned the page of her book, and her grin widened as she drank up both her tea, and the words on the page.

Phil stepped through the opening in the vines, and although he was deft at stepping through the water, he stepped on something in the water, which snapped. The woman turned, shocked, and something in the water next to Phil dashed towards him. A snake, a racoon viper, common throughout the wetlands, named for its distinctive racoon-like markings on its face. It was extremely venomous, fatal within minutes. Phil didn’t react at first, all his years in the wetlands, his trust in the Old Magic, made him know the racoon viper wouldn’t hurt him. Right up until it bit him on the ankle.

He shouted, and it released his ankle, darting away. The woman's expression went from shocked to panicked as she realized what had happened.

The venom from the racoon viper spread through his body quickly, and he stumbled through the moat before falling onto the grass, the lower half of his body in the water. He groaned as the venom continued to spread. He paled, beginning to sweat and shiver, as his body began to shut down.

The woman dashed forward, her hat flying off. She put a hand on his chest, to feel for a heartbeat, and while it was there, it was faint. She stared, not knowing what to do. Phil’s cloak was askew, showing the sunflower on the back. His blond hair reflected the sunlight, which shone in patches through the canopy above, and the Old Magic whispered to her, whispering what Fate told it to whisper.

You can save him. He is of the Sun. Use that.

The woman reached up with her hand, wrapping around her hand threads of sunlight, warm and fluid. With her other hand, she reached down and gripped the grass, drawing from it the energy of the wetlands, alive and firm. With these two energies, she placed her hands on Phil’s face and willed the energies into him.

At first, nothing happened, and panic spiked through her body. But then, Phil gasped, and color returned to his face. His heartbeat returned in full force, and his eyes opened, their gray blue hue seeing once again. The woman sat back, breathing rather heavily. The Old Magic whispered a feeling of thanks to her.

Fate was at work here.

Phil sat up, looking at his ankle first. The puncture marks from the racoon viper were gone, and his ankle looked as good as it ever had, if better. He felt… great. Better than ever.

He looked at the woman, noting her breathing, the slight sheen of sweat upon her brow.

“Thank you,” He said.

The woman nodded.

“Who are you?” Phil asked.

@Ookla the Theoretical @Ookla the Myopic @Ookla the Kobold

[The Wandering Wizard]

26 minutes ago, Ookla the Crow said:

Part II:

  Hide contents

Our other character, Kristin, was one with the Old Magic. She was very connected to it, through the Moon. She and the Moon were close friends, but the Moon did not act like a friend who was human would.

The Moon was the Moon, and could not leave its throne in the sky. But Kristin, so ingrained with Old Magic, wandered the world, living peacefully. Finding areas to sit and wait, with good tea and a long book, for the Moon to rise so she could talk to it.

The Moon didn’t respond with any more than feelings, but Kristin enjoyed her talks with Him.

One rather fateful day, as the Sun watched from above, warming the ground and the grass, Kristin found her way to the wetlands. The same wetlands where Phil lived. She found his hideaway, his little island surrounded by a dome of flowers and life.

She immediately fell in love with the place, and sat in the spot where the sun shone, with her tea, and a good book, to read in peace while she waited for the Moon.

It was any normal day for her.

And it quickly became abnormal.

From farther away, on the edge of the wetlands, the Old Magic whispered to Phil. Whispered about the presence of a person, in the wetlands.

Phil didn’t think much of it. People went into the wetlands all the time, Phil didn’t own the place.

He went back to his task, trimming the rose bushes that grew outside his little cottage.

The Old Magic whispered again, whispered about the power of the person in the wetlands. Whispered that it knew them.

This time, Phil listened. He put his shears down, went inside his cottage, and grabbed his hat. It was a wide brimmed hat, made of green and white strips of fabric, and he had made it himself. He loved his hat, he did.

He struck out into the wetlands, trusting in the Old Magic as usual, searching for the stranger who was present.

In all the places Phil thought they would be, they were not. He decided to search one final place, although he doubted someone had found the place. He made his way to the island and moat, his favorite place. Surely it hadn’t been discovered.

He stepped up to the wall of vines, the water coming up just past his ankles. The water didn’t bother him, it never had. He reached out, brushing the vines away, leaving an opening for him to see in. The hydrangeas parted, and he saw her.

He stared in shock. A woman, with long hair past her shoulders, the color of mahogany. She wore a white dress, the sleeves and skirt of which were loose and flowy, like water. She had a hat, white as well, tilted to cover the back of her neck, wider even than Phil’s hat.

She sat against the tree, in the spot where the sun shone, with a book in her hand, a content smile upon her lips, and a teacup next to her.

Phil, on the other side of the moat, simply stared. He had never seen her before, and he knew everyone who journeyed into the wetlands. The woman turned the page of her book, and her grin widened as she drank up both her tea, and the words on the page.

Phil stepped through the opening in the vines, and although he was deft at stepping through the water, he stepped on something in the water, which snapped. The woman turned, shocked, and something in the water next to Phil dashed towards him. A snake, a racoon viper, common throughout the wetlands, named for its distinctive racoon-like markings on its face. It was extremely venomous, fatal within minutes. Phil didn’t react at first, all his years in the wetlands, his trust in the Old Magic, made him know the racoon viper wouldn’t hurt him. Right up until it bit him on the ankle.

He shouted, and it released his ankle, darting away. The woman's expression went from shocked to panicked as she realized what had happened.

The venom from the racoon viper spread through his body quickly, and he stumbled through the moat before falling onto the grass, the lower half of his body in the water. He groaned as the venom continued to spread. He paled, beginning to sweat and shiver, as his body began to shut down.

The woman dashed forward, her hat flying off. She put a hand on his chest, to feel for a heartbeat, and while it was there, it was faint. She stared, not knowing what to do. Phil’s cloak was askew, showing the sunflower on the back. His blond hair reflected the sunlight, which shone in patches through the canopy above, and the Old Magic whispered to her, whispering what Fate told it to whisper.

You can save him. He is of the Sun. Use that.

The woman reached up with her hand, wrapping around her hand threads of sunlight, warm and fluid. With her other hand, she reached down and gripped the grass, drawing from it the energy of the wetlands, alive and firm. With these two energies, she placed her hands on Phil’s face and willed the energies into him.

At first, nothing happened, and panic spiked through her body. But then, Phil gasped, and color returned to his face. His heartbeat returned in full force, and his eyes opened, their gray blue hue seeing once again. The woman sat back, breathing rather heavily. The Old Magic whispered a feeling of thanks to her.

Fate was at work here.

Phil sat up, looking at his ankle first. The puncture marks from the racoon viper were gone, and his ankle looked as good as it ever had, if better. He felt… great. Better than ever.

He looked at the woman, noting her breathing, the slight sheen of sweat upon her brow.

“Thank you,” He said.

The woman nodded.

“Who are you?” Phil asked.

@Ookla the Theoretical @Ookla the Myopic @Ookla the Kobold

I can't wait for part III.

This is incredible!

[Medium]

Thanks

[Mr. Misting]

1 hour ago, Ookla the Crow said:

Part II:

  Reveal hidden contents

Our other character, Kristin, was one with the Old Magic. She was very connected to it, through the Moon. She and the Moon were close friends, but the Moon did not act like a friend who was human would.

The Moon was the Moon, and could not leave its throne in the sky. But Kristin, so ingrained with Old Magic, wandered the world, living peacefully. Finding areas to sit and wait, with good tea and a long book, for the Moon to rise so she could talk to it.

The Moon didn’t respond with any more than feelings, but Kristin enjoyed her talks with Him.

One rather fateful day, as the Sun watched from above, warming the ground and the grass, Kristin found her way to the wetlands. The same wetlands where Phil lived. She found his hideaway, his little island surrounded by a dome of flowers and life.

She immediately fell in love with the place, and sat in the spot where the sun shone, with her tea, and a good book, to read in peace while she waited for the Moon.

It was any normal day for her.

And it quickly became abnormal.

From farther away, on the edge of the wetlands, the Old Magic whispered to Phil. Whispered about the presence of a person, in the wetlands.

Phil didn’t think much of it. People went into the wetlands all the time, Phil didn’t own the place.

He went back to his task, trimming the rose bushes that grew outside his little cottage.

The Old Magic whispered again, whispered about the power of the person in the wetlands. Whispered that it knew them.

This time, Phil listened. He put his shears down, went inside his cottage, and grabbed his hat. It was a wide brimmed hat, made of green and white strips of fabric, and he had made it himself. He loved his hat, he did.

He struck out into the wetlands, trusting in the Old Magic as usual, searching for the stranger who was present.

In all the places Phil thought they would be, they were not. He decided to search one final place, although he doubted someone had found the place. He made his way to the island and moat, his favorite place. Surely it hadn’t been discovered.

He stepped up to the wall of vines, the water coming up just past his ankles. The water didn’t bother him, it never had. He reached out, brushing the vines away, leaving an opening for him to see in. The hydrangeas parted, and he saw her.

He stared in shock. A woman, with long hair past her shoulders, the color of mahogany. She wore a white dress, the sleeves and skirt of which were loose and flowy, like water. She had a hat, white as well, tilted to cover the back of her neck, wider even than Phil’s hat.

She sat against the tree, in the spot where the sun shone, with a book in her hand, a content smile upon her lips, and a teacup next to her.

Phil, on the other side of the moat, simply stared. He had never seen her before, and he knew everyone who journeyed into the wetlands. The woman turned the page of her book, and her grin widened as she drank up both her tea, and the words on the page.

Phil stepped through the opening in the vines, and although he was deft at stepping through the water, he stepped on something in the water, which snapped. The woman turned, shocked, and something in the water next to Phil dashed towards him. A snake, a racoon viper, common throughout the wetlands, named for its distinctive racoon-like markings on its face. It was extremely venomous, fatal within minutes. Phil didn’t react at first, all his years in the wetlands, his trust in the Old Magic, made him know the racoon viper wouldn’t hurt him. Right up until it bit him on the ankle.

He shouted, and it released his ankle, darting away. The woman's expression went from shocked to panicked as she realized what had happened.

The venom from the racoon viper spread through his body quickly, and he stumbled through the moat before falling onto the grass, the lower half of his body in the water. He groaned as the venom continued to spread. He paled, beginning to sweat and shiver, as his body began to shut down.

The woman dashed forward, her hat flying off. She put a hand on his chest, to feel for a heartbeat, and while it was there, it was faint. She stared, not knowing what to do. Phil’s cloak was askew, showing the sunflower on the back. His blond hair reflected the sunlight, which shone in patches through the canopy above, and the Old Magic whispered to her, whispering what Fate told it to whisper.

You can save him. He is of the Sun. Use that.

The woman reached up with her hand, wrapping around her hand threads of sunlight, warm and fluid. With her other hand, she reached down and gripped the grass, drawing from it the energy of the wetlands, alive and firm. With these two energies, she placed her hands on Phil’s face and willed the energies into him.

At first, nothing happened, and panic spiked through her body. But then, Phil gasped, and color returned to his face. His heartbeat returned in full force, and his eyes opened, their gray blue hue seeing once again. The woman sat back, breathing rather heavily. The Old Magic whispered a feeling of thanks to her.

Fate was at work here.

Phil sat up, looking at his ankle first. The puncture marks from the racoon viper were gone, and his ankle looked as good as it ever had, if better. He felt… great. Better than ever.

He looked at the woman, noting her breathing, the slight sheen of sweat upon her brow.

“Thank you,” He said.

The woman nodded.

“Who are you?” Phil asked.

@Ookla the Theoretical @Ookla the Myopic @Ookla the Kobold

*Gasp* Conflict! I am now hooked, and eagerly waiting to see how cute they will be together. 

[Medium]

Part III:

Spoiler

Her name, he found out, was Kristin. She was not from here, but Phil had already gathered that much.

The pair of them quickly struck a bond, Kristin’s calm, almost knifelike demeanor somehow clicking with Phil’s boisterous, active attitude. They became fast friends, and Phil quickly told his family he was leaving, and to please look after his rose bushes. Phil and Kristin struck out, Kristin to show him the world, Phil to see it.

And, as Fate would have it, it was as if the Day met the Night.

The Sun and the Moon, together.

Friends.

Phil and Kristin went on many adventures together, and Phil soon discovered that Kristin was not a mortal. In fact, she was a goddess, a powerful, but lesser, goddess of the Moon. Kristin introduced Phil to the Moon, and the Moon to Phil. And, on a cliffside where the grass blew in the wind, overlooking a vast ocean, Phil introduced Kristin to the setting Sun, and the setting Sun to Kristin. Phil didn’t talk to the Sun like Kristin spoke with the moon, but he felt she would like the mimicking of what she did.

That evening they sat on that cliffside, and talked. Talked about many things. They sat on their blanket, initially across from each other, but by the time the Moon began to set, and the Sun began to rise, they were shoulder to shoulder, talking even more.

That was when their true relationship started.

They spent a day running through golden wheat fields, just because they could. They spent a day deep in a forest, where old, gnarled trees grew, and whose branches were covered in crows. Kristin’s crows. Her sacred flock, which resided here. Phil was astounded, and the crows thought he was hilarious, and immediately told Kristin as such.

Kristin took him to the Northern Plains, where the snow piled high, and the Mountains towered above all, to show him the lights, the winds, and the snow. Phil, used to heat, and humidity, found it awful.

But, he was with Kristin, so it was less awful.

During that trip to the Plains, Phil found himself staring at Kristin as she was very animatedly explaining how she thought the wind had feelings (Phil insisted it didn’t) and, even though his face was quite cold, he suddenly felt it growing warmer.

He didn’t say anything at first, just assumed some reserve of warmth had appeared.

Denial. Such a fun feeling.

Months passed, with the pair seeing the world, Phil realizing he felt for Kristin more than as just friends, and Kristin simply being happy to have a companion to journey the world with.

It was a whole new experience for her, and for Phil.

Phil arranged for them to go back to the cliffside where they had spent that night talking, as he had something of a request for Kristin.

“Would it be alright,” He asked, “If we just sat and talked for a little while?”

Kristin agreed, always happy to talk with Phil, and joined him on the cliffside that evening.

There, Phil asked a question that men the world over, in past, present and future had asked.

“Would you be my wife?”

Kristin, elated, immediately agreed, and took Phil’s hand, the one holding the ring, in both her hands. She smiled, worked a little magic, and the ring lifted into the air, splitting in two, morphing, molding in the air. It turned into two brooches, the shape of which was a red heart, with two dark streaks in the middle.

“Will you make a promise,” She asked in return, “Not to break my heart, and leave me all alone?”

Phil accepted.

His brooch began to glow as it affixed itself to him, and with a pop and a fwoosh, Phil had wings.

Large, beautiful, glorious, silky onyx wings.

More than he had bargained for, but he decided he was just lucky.

And he was lucky;

A goddess for a fiance, brand new wings, and a lifetime of experience in so many things.

Fate had worked it’s magic, creating a bond so powerful, nothing, not even death, could break it.

 

[The Wandering Wizard]

2 minutes ago, Ookla the Crow said:

Part III:

  Hide contents

Her name, he found out, was Kristin. She was not from here, but Phil had already gathered that much.

The pair of them quickly struck a bond, Kristin’s calm, almost knifelike demeanor somehow clicking with Phil’s boisterous, active attitude. They became fast friends, and Phil quickly told his family he was leaving, and to please look after his rose bushes. Phil and Kristin struck out, Kristin to show him the world, Phil to see it.

And, as Fate would have it, it was as if the Day met the Night.

The Sun and the Moon, together.

Friends.

Phil and Kristin went on many adventures together, and Phil soon discovered that Kristin was not a mortal. In fact, she was a goddess, a powerful, but lesser, goddess of the Moon. Kristin introduced Phil to the Moon, and the Moon to Phil. And, on a cliffside where the grass blew in the wind, overlooking a vast ocean, Phil introduced Kristin to the setting Sun, and the setting Sun to Kristin. Phil didn’t talk to the Sun like Kristin spoke with the moon, but he felt she would like the mimicking of what she did.

That evening they sat on that cliffside, and talked. Talked about many things. They sat on their blanket, initially across from each other, but by the time the Moon began to set, and the Sun began to rise, they were shoulder to shoulder, talking even more.

That was when their true relationship started.

They spent a day running through golden wheat fields, just because they could. They spent a day deep in a forest, where old, gnarled trees grew, and whose branches were covered in crows. Kristin’s crows. Her sacred flock, which resided here. Phil was astounded, and the crows thought he was hilarious, and immediately told Kristin as such.

Kristin took him to the Northern Plains, where the snow piled high, and the Mountains towered above all, to show him the lights, the winds, and the snow. Phil, used to heat, and humidity, found it awful.

But, he was with Kristin, so it was less awful.

During that trip to the Plains, Phil found himself staring at Kristin as she was very animatedly explaining how she thought the wind had feelings (Phil insisted it didn’t) and, even though his face was quite cold, he suddenly felt it growing warmer.

He didn’t say anything at first, just assumed some reserve of warmth had appeared.

Denial. Such a fun feeling.

Months passed, with the pair seeing the world, Phil realizing he felt for Kristin more than as just friends, and Kristin simply being happy to have a companion to journey the world with.

It was a whole new experience for her, and for Phil.

Phil arranged for them to go back to the cliffside where they had spent that night talking, as he had something of a request for Kristin.

“Would it be alright,” He asked, “If we just sat and talked for a little while?”

Kristin agreed, always happy to talk with Phil, and joined him on the cliffside that evening.

There, Phil asked a question that men the world over, in past, present and future had asked.

“Would you be my wife?”

Kristin, elated, immediately agreed, and took Phil’s hand, the one holding the ring, in both her hands. She smiled, worked a little magic, and the ring lifted into the air, splitting in two, morphing, molding in the air. It turned into two brooches, the shape of which was a red heart, with two dark streaks in the middle.

“Will you make a promise,” She asked in return, “Not to break my heart, and leave me all alone?”

Phil accepted.

His brooch began to glow as it affixed itself to him, and with a pop and a fwoosh, Phil had wings.

Large, beautiful, glorious, silky onyx wings.

More than he had bargained for, but he decided he was just lucky.

And he was lucky;

A goddess for a fiance, brand new wings, and a lifetime of experience in so many things.

Fate had worked it’s magic, creating a bond so powerful, nothing, not even death, could break it.

 

Sir, please keep breaking my heart in the best of ways.

This is incredible, each is better than the last! 

 

[Mr. Misting]

1 hour ago, Ookla the Crow said:

Part III:

  Reveal hidden contents

Her name, he found out, was Kristin. She was not from here, but Phil had already gathered that much.

The pair of them quickly struck a bond, Kristin’s calm, almost knifelike demeanor somehow clicking with Phil’s boisterous, active attitude. They became fast friends, and Phil quickly told his family he was leaving, and to please look after his rose bushes. Phil and Kristin struck out, Kristin to show him the world, Phil to see it.

And, as Fate would have it, it was as if the Day met the Night.

The Sun and the Moon, together.

Friends.

Phil and Kristin went on many adventures together, and Phil soon discovered that Kristin was not a mortal. In fact, she was a goddess, a powerful, but lesser, goddess of the Moon. Kristin introduced Phil to the Moon, and the Moon to Phil. And, on a cliffside where the grass blew in the wind, overlooking a vast ocean, Phil introduced Kristin to the setting Sun, and the setting Sun to Kristin. Phil didn’t talk to the Sun like Kristin spoke with the moon, but he felt she would like the mimicking of what she did.

That evening they sat on that cliffside, and talked. Talked about many things. They sat on their blanket, initially across from each other, but by the time the Moon began to set, and the Sun began to rise, they were shoulder to shoulder, talking even more.

That was when their true relationship started.

They spent a day running through golden wheat fields, just because they could. They spent a day deep in a forest, where old, gnarled trees grew, and whose branches were covered in crows. Kristin’s crows. Her sacred flock, which resided here. Phil was astounded, and the crows thought he was hilarious, and immediately told Kristin as such.

Kristin took him to the Northern Plains, where the snow piled high, and the Mountains towered above all, to show him the lights, the winds, and the snow. Phil, used to heat, and humidity, found it awful.

But, he was with Kristin, so it was less awful.

During that trip to the Plains, Phil found himself staring at Kristin as she was very animatedly explaining how she thought the wind had feelings (Phil insisted it didn’t) and, even though his face was quite cold, he suddenly felt it growing warmer.

He didn’t say anything at first, just assumed some reserve of warmth had appeared.

Denial. Such a fun feeling.

Months passed, with the pair seeing the world, Phil realizing he felt for Kristin more than as just friends, and Kristin simply being happy to have a companion to journey the world with.

It was a whole new experience for her, and for Phil.

Phil arranged for them to go back to the cliffside where they had spent that night talking, as he had something of a request for Kristin.

“Would it be alright,” He asked, “If we just sat and talked for a little while?”

Kristin agreed, always happy to talk with Phil, and joined him on the cliffside that evening.

There, Phil asked a question that men the world over, in past, present and future had asked.

“Would you be my wife?”

Kristin, elated, immediately agreed, and took Phil’s hand, the one holding the ring, in both her hands. She smiled, worked a little magic, and the ring lifted into the air, splitting in two, morphing, molding in the air. It turned into two brooches, the shape of which was a red heart, with two dark streaks in the middle.

“Will you make a promise,” She asked in return, “Not to break my heart, and leave me all alone?”

Phil accepted.

His brooch began to glow as it affixed itself to him, and with a pop and a fwoosh, Phil had wings.

Large, beautiful, glorious, silky onyx wings.

More than he had bargained for, but he decided he was just lucky.

And he was lucky;

A goddess for a fiance, brand new wings, and a lifetime of experience in so many things.

Fate had worked it’s magic, creating a bond so powerful, nothing, not even death, could break it.

 

Top notch quality. Love the denial line.

[S. Stormy]

This is SO CUTE! And you inspired me to work on my thingstuff!

[Medium]

This is the best reception I've ever had to something I've written. You're all too kind, and Part IV will come at some point, hopefully soon. Not sure, might be Sunday or Monday though.

The coming days will be busy, I won't really be online.

[Medium]

Part IV:

Spoiler

On Kristin’s part, she didn’t expect that what she had done in giving Phil wings would create such a change in him. While he still acted outgoing and adventurous, there was now added to a mix a sense of childish wonder from him. He could see the skies now, side by side with Kristin’s crows.

Phil would take Kristin with him for flights over lakes, or the sea, holding her in his arms as they sped across the water. Kristin would reach down, let her fingers dip into the sea, creating a spray and a wake behind them.

And all through this, their relationship only grew stronger.

They went from fiance and fiancee to husband and wife, and their bond was unbreakable.

They spent their days wandering, living their best life together. They’d dance the evenings away, and while Phil’s childish wonder at his wings slowly gave way to his old personality again, he still was changed because of his wings. But Kristin liked it. He was still hers, and she was still his.

But, as with all things worked by Fate, there was a catch.

The Moon had begun calling to Kristin. And Kristin could not ignore it. As much as she wanted to stay, dance her life away with Phil, she had a duty as a Goddess of the Moon.

So, she talked to Phil, confided in him. He was hurt, of course. How could he not be? His wife was leaving, to reside up in the sky, with the Moon. It was painful.

But, he understood the Old Magic, and he understood how important the duties of a Goddess were.

And so, he smiled, and put a hand to her cheek, and said, “I’ll be okay. I’ll wait for you.”

And Kristin smiled, and walked into the forest. A solitary crow followed, his eyes the same as Phil’s. A memento, perhaps.

Kristin’s shadow flew across the moon, and she was gone. Phil smiled. For he now knew that when he looked up at the Moon, he would see Kristin. When the Moon would look down, she would see Phil.

Waiting. Watching. Listening.

The edge of the forest, the trees and ground always covered in a soft white blanket of snow, became Phil’s new home.

With his eldest son, he built a house. He built a home. His other two sons went off to find themselves, but only one returned.

Phil, every night, went up to the roof, and looked at the moon.

Waiting. Watching. Listening. His wife was up there. She was waiting for when she could return to him. For when he could take her back into his arms, wrap her in his wings, and they would be whole once again.

And that day came. But not for a long time. And that is another tale, for another day.

I'm revamping a story idea I had a few months back to work as a sequel to this prequel.

Get ready nerds. It's gaming time.

And this is the final part of this, by the way. Anything after this is a separate tale, but still connected. Hope you all enjoyed reading it!!

Final Word Count: 2751

@Mr. Misting @Morningtide @Ookla the Myopic

Edited December 19, 2022 by CalanoCorvus

[The Wandering Wizard]

Sir, this is cruel. I thought you were summoning me because you had finished it. >>

I did read this and it is incredible! It was just Sunday yesterday and I was tired and on my phone so I didn't respond.

[Medium]

I did finish it. This is done, but it segways into another story that I'll work on soon.

[Morningtide]

OH this is so good! I meant to respond to the last one but I was busy and then I forgot :(.  I love it.

[Medium]

@Sequence you'll like these then if you liked my other stuff.

[Sequence]

2 minutes ago, CalanoCorvus said:

@Sequence you'll like these then if you liked my other stuff.

Ah yes,

f a n t a s y

I shall start the reading process when I get home and watch the animatics.

[Medium]

Good good!

[S. Stormy]

Aaagh. I want more.

[The Wandering Wizard]

On 12/19/2022 at 11:29 AM, CalanoCorvus said:

I did finish it. This is done, but it segways into another story that I'll work on soon.

Have you gotten to work on the other story yet?

[Medium]

On 1/20/2023 at 5:20 PM, The Wandering Wizard said:

Have you gotten to work on the other story yet?

Not yet, I've been a tad busy working on other projects.

[Medium]

Oh yeah, guess what's coming back!!

Part V

Spoiler

Phil, after some time, decided to start several projects around his home.

His eldest son, Alexander, was there by his side. His youngest son was off doing his own thing, and his other son…

Was gone.

Phil missed him.

Alexander and his father decided to spruce up their forest home. Some gardens, a border fence, the occasional clump of sweet berry bushes. Underneath the small decorative bridge connecting their two houses, they built a small pond. Alexander journeyed out into the world, in search of various tropical corals, fishes, and wildlife.

Phil, while his son was gone, slept little. With no one to distract him, and his many projects on hold, his exhaustion was not as powerful as it had been, and he often would find himself on his roof, staring up at the moon.

The moon liked to change colors, he noticed. Pure white, as the snow around him. Cream, as fresh butter. Or, when it was young and low in the sky, orange, as pumpkins. Once or twice Phil saw it when it was red, as pomegranate flowers. The colors reminded Phil of Kristin; pomegranate flowers had been one of her favorite flowers, alongside a very old love for the fruit.

Phil wondered after his wife when he watched the moon.

He liked to think she thought after him, as she gazed upon the world during her nightly journeyings across it.

During one of these nights, when the moon was the white of the snow, and high in the sky, Phil blinked, and thought he saw a shadow flit across the face of the moon.

He heard a sighing in the trees, the flutter of feathers.

And then he heard a caw.

And a laugh, floating along the wind, as leaves do at the advent of autumn.

Phil, without hesitation, leaped from the roof, his wings spreading wide, quivering in anticipation. He glided into the woods, sliding to a stop a little ways from the treeline.

And called out a name he wished he’d been able to call out for so long.

“Kristin!”

No one answered, so he trekked further into the woods, calling out her name every so often.

He didn’t give up, trekking deeper and deeper, the moonlight reflecting off the snow, providing more than enough light.

He heard a caw again, and he followed it.

He walked into a clearing, where he found a blanket. On the blanket was a small basket. On top of the small basket was a crow. It hopped excitedly, cawing softly.

Phil approached the crow with a hurried fascination.

“Hello,” He whispered, “How are you, little one?”

The crow hopped a couple more times, cawing.

“Fascinated by birds more than me?” A voice behind Phil said.

Phil spun around, instantly recognizing the teasing tone of the voice.

His wife.

Kristin.

The Goddess of the Moon.

“Hello, sunflower,” She whispered, and Phil laughed. He ran to her, picking her up in his arms and spinning around.

She kissed him, and Phil smiled against her lips. How he’d missed her kisses.

He’d missed more than her kisses, though.

Her smell, her voice, her soft radiance that came from her affinity with the moon.

He’d missed her.

He carried her to the blanket, sitting down.

And they began to talk.

And they didn’t stop.

edit: it's also on AO3 now

https://archiveofourown.org/works/45650548?view_full_work=true

Edited March 11, 2023 by CalanoCorvus