The Lilac Moon

Written by Kaura Grande

On a warm summer night in the middle of June, Clara woke to the sound of children laughing outside her bedroom window. Wanting to play too she threw off her lilac sheets, raced to her closet, and pulled out her boots of the same color. Not wanting to wake up her parents and be told to go back to bed, she silently slid her chair under her window and climbed out, landing softly on the damp grass below. She stood quietly, listening for the children she had heard, and before long the faint sound of laughter echoed out of the woods. A soft voice called out her name.

“Coming!” she loudly whispered before taking off towards the sound of laughter, skipping over rocks and dodging fallen branches. She stopped once to watch a white wolf howl at the moon, an act that would scare most, but not Clara. She was like Artemis, brave and not frightened by the creatures of the night, not that the wolf paid too much attention to her. It gave her a subtle glance with its green eyes and then turned and ran off. Within moments the sound of laughter came again.

“Clara, come play with us!” another child called laughing in the wind. Clara smiled and took off again, following the sound until she ended up in a large meadow where a glowing figure stood confidently by a small creek.

“My dear sweet child,” the voice came out so gentle, so smooth, it wrapped itself around Clara, bringing her closer to the source, “what a long way from home you have come.”

As Clara drew nearer, she saw that the glowing form took the shape of a beautiful woman, with skin the color of the moon, almost translucent in the night. She wore a long white gown that flowed effortlessly down her body, silver bracelets wrapped themselves up her arms and a crescent moon pendant hung close to her throat. Her eyes glittered a vibrant green, but her most striking feature was her hair. From far away it was hard to tell, but up-close Clara could see that it was made up entirely of flower petals. Glorious shades of white, purple, and blue strung together through magic cascaded down the woman’s back, and the scent it emitted was a delicious combination of rose and lavender.

“Your hair!” Clara exclaimed before she could stop herself. “It’s…it’s flowers!” and then she clasped her hand over her mouth, afraid to sound rude.

“Oh sweet child,” the woman laughed, “that it is!” She grabbed a handful and brought it forward offering it to Clara to feel. Tentatively, she stroked the beautiful petals elated to find they were silky and slightly wet. When her fingers came away they smelt of rose and lavender and that sensation warmed her.

“I thought I heard children playing. Have you seen any kids running around? They were calling my name…”

“I am sorry, but it is just me alone here in the woods tonight,” said the woman. Clara tried to cover up her disappointment. “But perhaps maybe you and I could play a game? Would you like that?”

A broad smile formed on Clara’s lips, delighted that her late-night adventure was not going to end in futile. She nodded her head vigorously before asking, “Hide and seek?”

“Okay, my sweet child, you hide first!” The woman closed her glittering green eyes and began to count in a language that Clara did not understand. “...ena, thio, tria, tessera, pendi…”

Clara ran to the edge of the woods, found a large bush that wasn’t too pokey, and climbed in. She nestled in deep, but through the branches she could watch the woman finish counting.

“...thekaenna, ikosi! Here I come, sweet child!” and the woman made a show of pretending to look under large logs, behind trees, and near the water’s edge. As she neared Clara’s hiding space Clara suppressed a giggle, but when the bush parted, revealing her, she let out a loud laugh.

“You found me! Now you hide!” They played the game back and forth well into the early morning hours until Clara grew tired and fell asleep while hiding.

The woman scooped Clara up and then carried her effortlessly back to her home. Like magic, the woman opened the front door, taking care to make no sound, and then gliding seamlessly across the floor she found Clara’s room, tucked her into bed, kissed her lightly on the cheek, and left with a petal placed delicately on her nightstand.

The next morning, Clara woke with a start and then saw the beautiful glowing white petal on her nightstand. Her day moved excruciatingly slow, but she filled it by drawing pictures of the woman, smelling her special petal, and hoping that tonight she would get to see her again. When bedtime came, she fought sleep as hard as she could, but eventually, her eyes grew heavy and she drifted off.

A sweet smell filled Clara’s room, waking her softly. When she realized what it was, she shot up, jumped out of bed, grabbed her boots, and darted out her window following the wonderful smell back to the meadow.

As she drew nearer she stopped to look at the glowing woman through the break in the trees and was again amazed by how incredibly beautiful she looked. Before Clara got too close the woman turned, eyes glittering. “Oh, sweet child! How wonderful it is to see you again!”

“I was afraid you would be gone forever…” Clara admitted sheepishly.

“Nonsense, I would never leave without saying goodbye. And besides, there are still more games to play!”

Clara smiled at this and met the woman’s glimmering green eyes, “Do you want to choose the game this time?”

“How kind!” and the woman picked an intricate game of pretend where together they wove a complex story about friendship and heartache, acting out additional characters and laughing. At some point, Clara grew tired and again she fell asleep. The woman picked her up with ease and carried her back to her home leaving another petal on her nightstand, this time blue.

On the third night, Clara was not afraid to fall asleep, knowing that the woman would find a way to wake her and guide her to the meadow-like magic. So, it did not surprise Clara when she woke up to the faintest of glows, chasing it all the way to the meadow.

When she arrived she looked at the woman and asked, “What is your name?” feeling embarrassed that she hadn’t asked sooner.

“Hecate, sweet child.”

“How come you like to play children’s games so much?”

“It is not the games I like, but you. You are my very best friend and I just want to play with you!”

Clara smiled broadly and reveled in her very own best friend. A beautiful, ethereal best friend. She wanted to show this friend off to her parents, to her friends from school, to everyone and anyone who would care to know.

“Can you come play at my house tomorrow?” Clara asked hopefully.

“I cannot, sweet child, my home is the forest and my life is the moon. But it is weakening,” at the utterance of the final word Hecate’s glow dimmed for just a second.

“What do you mean?”

“As the moon wanes, so do I. When the moon goes, so must I.”

“What? No. I don’t want you to go! We are best friends and I want you to stay forever,” hot tears brimmed in Clara's eyes and despite her best efforts began to spill over. Hecate reached out, catching a few as they fell and as she did so her glow brightened.

“Don’t worry, there is still time to play. We have two more days before the moon takes its leave.”

Hecate took Clara’s small hands and smiled down at her. Clara tried to return the smile but faltered, “My dear sweet child, don’t fret. How about tonight we dance?”

“But there is no music…”

“Listen harder… the world is our music!”

Clara tilted her head, listened hard, and once again, as if like magic, she was surprised to hear a wonderful rhythm emerge. It came forth in the trickle of the stream, in the way the wind blew through the leaves, how the crickets chirped their notes, and the owl hooted its own lullaby. Hand in hand they danced to the earth noises, but every now and then Clara would look up at the moon begging it to stay fuller for longer.

Night again turned to early morning and Hecate carried a sleepy Clara home, leaving her with a purple petal.

On their fourth night together they told stories. Hecate spoke of an ancient land where Gods ruled the world and were worshiped outwardly with offerings and statues to commemorate them. She told stories of a chariot ride that pulled the moon across the sky bringing light to darkness. Each tale was intertwined with magic and sorcery, ghosts and evil spirits. Hecate’s tellings were so vivid and enticing that Clara couldn’t help but wonder if her stories were real.

Hand in hand they walked back towards Clara’s home. It was undeniable that Hecate’s glow had started to dim and some of the petals in her hair had begun to wilt. The sweet aroma that followed her wherever she went wasn’t as sweet. Clara squeezed her hand harder, sending silent prayers to the moon to stay just a little longer.

A sliver barely rose in the sky on the fifth day. Clara didn’t wait for Hecate to wake her, instead, she listened intently for the sound of her father’s snores before she climbed out the window and ran all the way to the meadow.

Hecate was sitting on a large boulder near the creek waiting for her. Clara was shocked to see that her glow had vanished, her eyes didn’t glitter, her petals had wilted and there was a rotting smell that overwhelmed her the closer she got.

“Hecate! What’s wrong?”

“Oh, sweet child, I am tired. I am weary. I am almost to my end.” She leaned forward, bracing her head on her hands, and let out a small sigh. Clara’s heart broke for her once beautiful friend who had been made dim by the wane of the moon.

“Surely there is something we can do, something I can do!” A small smile came to Hecate’s lips. Her eyes glittered green just for a flash. She reached her hands out for Clara to take.

“Sweet child,” her voice came out like silk, “you know you are my very best friend. I would do anything for you sweet child. Would you do anything for me?”

“Yes of course!” Clara nodded vigorously, giving Hecate’s hands a light squeeze.

“I need something from you sweet child, something you have to give me, willingly.”

“Whatever you need Hecate, you can have. If it is mine, it is yours. Take it!” And Clara believed every word she said with her whole heart. Hecate’s smile grew and her grip on Clara’s hands tightened.

“I was hoping you would say that.” Before Clara could understand what was happening, Hecate had begun to suck the life from her small form. Clara’s soul began to dim and as hers faded, Hecate’s began to glow. Her eyes began to glitter. Her petals found new life. Her scent grew sickeningly sweet. A single tear fell from Clara’s eyes and Hecate caught it before it could fall, licking it off of her finger.

“Oh, sweet child,” Hecate smiled wickedly as Clara’s body crumpled to the floor. With a small wave of her hand, the body vanished and a new lilac petal appeared in Hecate’s hair.