Eyes of the Moon

“Hey, look at that one!”  Acer pointed up at the stars, the shingles of the roof against his back as he traced a constellation with his finger.  “Doesn’t it look like a pitchfork?”
            Dreel nestled up beside him, eagerly trying to follow his gaze.  “I don’t see it,” she said, squinting her eyes.  “Looks more like a bird to me.  See the little feet?”
            Acer furrowed his brow.  “What the blazes are you looking at?  It’s right there!”  He grabbed Dreel by the head, squishing her cheeks together with his hands as he steered her in the right direction.  “See?  It’s those seven bright ones below the Eastborne Star.”
           “Ah!  There it is!”  Dreel’s eyes lit up in recognition, waiting for Acer to release his grip before drooping back into unamusement.  “Nope.  Still don’t see it.”
            Acer pushed her away with a groan.  “Ugh, you’re so blind.  I should have expected as much from someone so young and stupid.”
           Dreel shoved him back.  “Hey!  I’m not stupid!  I’m six years old!”
           “Exactly my point,” Acer sneered.
           “Well, you’re only ten!”
           “Yeah.  That’s four years wiser than you.”  Acer laced his hands behind his head, glancing back up at the stars.  “I’ve been around almost twice as long as you have.  You couldn’t imagine how much more stuff I’ve learned in that amount of time.”
           Dreel folded her arms with a pout.  “You don’t know everything,” she hissed.  In the sky above, the three moons of Daedramir shined full and bright.  Clustered in triangle formation, their pale faces illuminated the village below with striking clarity.  If not for the glittering starfield beyond, one might have mistaken the night for day.  As Dreel studied them, her thoughts began to wander, picturing what it would be like to stroll across the surface of one of those distant spheres.  “Do you think there are other people out there?” she asked.  “Other worlds like ours somewhere super far away?  Maybe there’s another girl out there lying atop her house, looking up at the stars with her geezalak of a brother.”
           “That poor boy,” Acer sighed.
           “Come on,” Dreel insisted, “if you’re so smart, then tell me.  Are there other people out there?”
           “Of course not,” Acer snapped.  “If there were, don’t you think we would have seen them by now?  Our scopes have looked deep into the Void, but there’s nothing alive to be found.  Just a bunch of stars and rocks and gas.”
           “But the Void is soooo big!”
           “Doesn’t matter,” Acer shrugged.  “If we can’t see it, it doesn’t matter.  Simple as that.”  Dreel wrinkled her nose, so frustrated by his indifference that she almost didn’t hear their mother calling from the yard below.
           “Acer?  Dreel?  You two better not be up on that roof again!  I told you it’s not safe!”  The children sat up with a start, scrambling over each other for the bedroom window.  “Hurry up and get down here!  We’re going to be late for the Lunar Festival!”  A loud thud rattled from inside the house, followed by the pounding of feet down the stairs.  Moments later, the front door burst open, both siblings racing into the yard.
           “Ready to go!” Acer said, gasping for breath.
           “Not so fast,” his mother replied.  “You haven’t put on your Moon’s Eye yet.”  She reached into the bag slung over her shoulder, pulling out a newly harvested gourd of Daga.  The fruit’s waxy green skin cracked open in her hands, exposing the sticky pulp within.  Acer cringed at the sight of it, the color and consistency of the juices reminding him of fresh blood.  His mother dipped a finger in the muck, reaching over to begin painting his forehead.
           “Do I have to?” Acer groaned, backing away.
           “Of course,” his mother sighed.  “Everyone has to put on the Eye before going to the feast.  Do you have to fight me on this every year?”
           “But it’s all goopy and gross and smells like daknul poo!”
           “It’s tradition.”
           “But why?  Can’t we change it to eating gorrel berries instead?”
           “No.  The elders have spoken.  We need to trust in their wisdom.”
           “What would they know?  They’re just old and wrinkly!”
           The boy’s mother put her hand on his shoulder, summoning the last of her patience.  “Acer, listen…the Eye isn’t just something we mark our faces with for the sake of tradition.  It’s a symbol of gratitude to the holy Nirmata.  It represents clearer vision of both mind and body.  It’s a protection against evil.”
           “Evil?  What kind of evil?” Acer demanded.  “I bet a sharp stick could do a better job of protecting us.”
           “Enough.  Hold still and let me paint.”
           “Wait!  Let me do it,” Acer begged, holding out his hand for the gourd.  “I can draw the Eye for me and Dreel while you get a head start on the feast.  We’ll catch up in no time.”
           Acer’s mother raised an eyebrow.  “Really?  You’ll do it yourself?”
           “Yup.”
           “You can make the proper strokes?”
           “Yup.”
           “And you know the way along the forest path?”
           “Yup.”
           “Well…OK then,” she relented, “but don’t be too long.”  She handed the gourd to Acer, turning to Dreel with a smile.  “There’s a spare lantern in the cupboard, sweetheart.  As soon as you two are done, come straight to the festival grounds, understood?”
           “We will,” the children nodded.
           With that, their mother patted them on the head and started down the path into the neighboring forest.  Dreel looked on as she disappeared into the foliage, frowning at having been left in her brother’s charge.  “I wanted Mother to do the painting for me,” she whined.
           “Who would want this stinky filth on their face anyway?” Acer said, grabbing her by the hand.  “Come on.  I’ve got a way better idea…”  He led his sister back into the house, tossing the gourd into the waste bin on his way to the storage closet.  Flinging open the door, he snatched out one of his father’s painting vials, selecting a scarlet as deep as blood.
           “What are you doing?” Dreel demanded.  “Those are for Father’s portraits.  Why did you throw away the—?”
           “Never mind the stupid gourd,” Acer said, popping open the vial.  “This paint is much easier to wash off, and the smell is far better too.  Nobody will ever know the difference.”
           “But…”
           “Do you want to go to the festival or not?  If you want me to paint you an Eye, this is the only way I’m doing it.”
           Dreel nodded reluctantly, raising her chin for Acer to begin his work.  He dabbed his finger into the vial, sweeping its red up the sides of her face with the same artistic delicacy he had seen so many times before.  The marks converged on her forehead, two opposing arcs with three dots in the center—the symbol of the moons.  He added a couple of flourishes for good measure, then stood back to admire the view.
          “How does it look?” Dreel asked excitedly.
          “See for yourself,” Acer said, guiding her to the hallway mirror.
          “Wow!  You’re amazing!” she squealed, clapping her hands.
          “Was there ever a doubt?  Now, go and fetch the lantern while I finish the job for myself.”
          Dreel dutifully scurried to the cupboard, finding the portable light source exactly where her mother had instructed.  She raised it up high, testing the power switch by rocking it on and off, strobing the kitchen with a bright orange glow.  Satisfied with the result, she returned to the hallway, triumphantly flashing the lantern in her brother’s face.  “I got it!” she cheered.
          “Aah!  What the—?”  Acer shielded his eyes, angrily pulling the lantern away from Dreel.  “I told you to get the light, not blind me with it.  Go wait by the door.  I’m almost finished.”
          “But I wanted to be the one to hold the—”
          “I’m the oldest so I get to hold the lantern.  Now do as I say and go wait by the door.”
          Dreel scowled at Acer, trudging out of the hallway with the loudest footsteps she could muster.  He tried his best to ignore her, throwing on the finishing touches of his face paint in the mirror.  Pleased with his handiwork, he picked up the lantern and began leading the way out the door.
          “Let’s get going,” Acer said.  “We’ve got a party to start.”
          The two siblings hurried across the yard, Dreel’s fists clenched indignantly as they passed beyond the fence into the adjoining forest.  Despite the full moons overhead, darkness had managed to pervade everything beneath the trees.  Its reign was dense and oppressive, rivaled only by an eerie fog beginning to roll in.  Acer held tight to his lantern, clinging to what little comfort its light could afford.  He knew the festival grounds weren’t very far.  Less than a few minutes’ walk if they could keep a decent pace, but with only their next step or two within sight, it might as well have been hours.
          “Alright, Dreel, listen up,” Acer said, trying to distract himself from the task at hand.  “When we get to the grounds, don’t you dare say a thing to Mother about the face paint.  If she finds out that you didn’t use the gourd, she’ll be very upset, you know.”  Acer waited for the inevitable groan of protest, knowing full well how much Dreel hated to keep secrets, especially from their mother.  No such groan ever came.  Acer turned around, shining the lamp behind him.  “Dreel?”  To his surprise, he found only shadows, his frantic gaze catching a glimpse of her darting off into the woods.  “Dreel?  Dreel!”
          “Come look!” her giggle echoed.  “I found a pyre frog!  Help me catch it!”
          Acer gave chase, beginning to notice a faint glow in the bushes ahead of her.  It bounced up and down, bug-eyed and slimy, the amphibian’s back aflame with bioluminescence.  “Dreel, wait!” Acer called after her.  “We don’t have time for this!  We need to stay on the path!”
          Dreel couldn’t hear him, his cries drowned out by the rustling of leaves and the thrill of pursuit.  “I’ve almost got it!”  The frog zigged and zagged, weaving under shrubs and branches, narrowly avoiding the girl’s grasping fingers.  As she strayed further from the path, the ground began to dip into a steady decline, the downward angle driving her into the woods that much faster.
          “Come back!” Acer shouted.  “We shouldn’t be out here!”
          “Got it!”  His sister lunged forward, triumphantly cupping the frog in her hands just as she felt the forest vanish beneath her feet.  All at once, her glee turned to horror, realizing too late that she had fallen prey to the forces of gravity.  She couldn’t even cry for help before tumbling out of sight, head over heels into the shadowy abyss of a ravine.
          “Dreel!”  Acer bolted to the drop-off, peering over the edge with his lamp.  He wished so desperately that the moons would lend their brilliance, that somehow they could penetrate the canopy of the trees, but all he found was suffocating darkness.  His thoughts raced, panic gripping him tighter with each passing second.  Had he lost his sister forever?  Should he go back and get help?  What would he tell his mother?  How could he explain his failure to look after Dreel?  As he wrestled within himself, a voice rose up through the fog.
          “Acer!  Acer, are you there?!”
          He fell to his knees, overcome with relief to hear his sister’s call.  “Dreel?  Thank the Nirmata.  Are you OK?”
          “I think so,” Dreel replied.  “The leaves broke my fall.  Might have twisted my ankle though…but I still got the frog!”  A muffled light waved at Acer from the bottom of the ravine.  “Mind helping me out of here?”
          Acer shook his head with a sigh.  “You crazy geezalak…”  He climbed to his feet, carefully making his descent along the side of the drop-off.  The dirt was loose and crumbling, its network of exposed tree roots offering the only sure means of traversal.  With some effort, he managed to safely reach the bottom, finding Dreel huddled over her catch.  “Can you stand?” Acer asked, kneeling down beside her.
          “Isn’t he cute?” Dreel said, cradling the pyre frog.  Its soft green glow peeked out between her fingers.  “I’m going to call him Hopper.”
          “How incredibly original,” Acer said, rolling his eyes.  “I wouldn’t get too attached.  Mother isn’t going to let you keep it.”
          “Yes, she will,” Dreel argued.  “He’s going to light our way to the Lunar Festival.”
          “We already have a lantern for that,” Acer replied, rubbing his temples.  “The only place that slimy bugger has led us to is into a ditch!  Now, get up and—”  He stopped short, startled by the sound of shifting stone beneath their feet.  The siblings exchanged looks, too surprised to make a move.  Then they heard it again.  A rumble from deep below.  The ground began to shake violently, Acer reaching for his sister’s hand, but before he could utter another word, the soil gave way, dropping them into a pitch-black chamber.
          The two landed on a bed of roots and dirt, shaken, but in one piece.  The lantern wasn’t as lucky, crashing hard against the stone floor.  Its bulb flickered weakly beside them, struggling to illuminate their surroundings with the last of its strength.  The granite walls and ceiling of the chamber glistened in the light, slick with moss and grime, their tapestry of withered vines obscuring an array of strange carvings.  Despite the apparent moisture, the air was stale, heavy with the stench of dust and decay.
          “W-where are we?” Dreel stammered.  Her words echoed off the walls, fading into the darkness beyond.  “Who put this cave here?”
          Acer sat up with a wince, glancing around at the room.  “This isn’t a cave,” he replied.  “Look at the brickwork.  Somebody built this a long time ago.  Maybe a crypt of some kind?”  He took a deep breath and wrinkled his nose.  “Or a sewer?”
          “In the middle of the forest?”
          Acer pointed to an opening at the far side of the room.  “Look over there.  This probably connects to a series of tunnels that go all the way back to the village.”
          “I don’t like it in here,” Dreel whimpered.  “It’s too creepy.”  She cracked open her hands, still cradling the captured pyre frog.  “Hopper doesn’t like it either.”
          “No arguments here.”  Acer glanced up at the hole in the ceiling, barely able to see moonlight through the trees.  “Well, we’re not getting out the way we came.  No point calling for help either.  We’re too far off the path.  Our only way out is going to be…”  Acer’s voice trailed off as a low growl began to reverberate from the nearby tunnels.  It was like nothing he had ever heard before, raspy and gurgling, his eyes growing wide as he suddenly realized they weren’t alone in the dark.  Holding a finger to his lips, he grabbed Dreel and ducked behind the pile of fallen rubble, peeking over the top as they laid on their bellies.
          In his haste, Acer had forgotten his lantern in the middle of the floor.  It was still resting on its side, dimly flickering on and off.  Just enough for him to make out the shape of a six-legged figure emerging from the passage at the other side of the room. Its hulking frame was as wide as it was tall—much bigger than any man or beast he had been taught to expect living in the forest.  Its gnarled claws scraped against the stone floor, its long snout sniffing at the air as it approached the lanturn.  The closer it stepped into the light, the more Acer could feel his skin trying to crawl away.  In its jaws, limp and mangled beyond all recognition, hung the half-eaten carcass of its latest kill, blood and spittle dripping over the lamp as the creature inspected it.
          Dreel shrank backward, a scream about to rise in her throat at the nightmarish vision, but Acer was quick to move.  He cupped a hand over her mouth, his eyes pleading for her to stay quiet and still.  With any luck, the creature wouldn’t find them, he hoped.  Maybe it would lose interest and wander back into the tunnels to finish its meal.  But what if it didn’t?  How could they escape when it was between them and the only exit?  Then he heard the croak from inside Dreel’s enclosed hands.  His heart sank into his feet as the creature dropped its snack and looked up at the pile of rubble, stepping onto the lanturn with one of its claws.  The plastic housing buckled and shattered under its weight, glass and metal scattering across the floor as the room plunged into utter darkness.  The only thing left to fill the void was the scraping of stone and a raspy growl drawing steadily closer.
          Acer frantically groped through the rubble, desperate for anything they could use for a weapon.  Perhaps a brick or a large tree root.  Even a sizable rock would have been something.  All he found was a handful of pebbles.  What good would they do when he couldn’t even see his target?  He pulled his sister close, waiting in agony for the sting of teeth to come sinking into his flesh.  His wits had nearly been consumed by fear when a thought suddenly flashed through his mind.  A blessing hidden in their misfortune.  If he and Dreel were now blind in the dark, then so was the beast.  It too had to rely on the limits of smell and sound.
          Acer clutched the pebbles in his hand, trying to envision the room before its light was extinguished.  He measured the distance to the tunnel passage in his mind, accounting for his own strength and the weight of his ammunition.  Then, holding his breath, he made the throw.  His pebbles sprayed along the ground in the direction of the open passage, the last of them clattering against the tunnel walls beyond.  The commotion triggered a ferocious roar from right beside him, followed by a stampede of heavy footsteps racing out of the room in pursuit.  The siblings waited in silence, listening as the growls faded into the depths.  Once they were sure the creature was gone, the two let out a deep sigh of relief.
          “If we manage to get out of here alive, you are so dead,” Acer hissed.  “You just had to chase that jumping ball of snot and get us into this mess.”
          “Don’t blame me,” Dreel shot back.  She cracked open her hands, allowing the pyre frog’s light to escape.  “Hopper can’t help it that he croaks when he’s scared, and if you had just let Mother paint the Eyes like you were supposed to, we’d already be at the festival.”
          Acer curled his lips, about to launch a fiery retort, but the truth managed to catch his tongue.  As much as he hated to admit it, she was right.  His stubbornness had indeed started them down this perilous road.  He could only pray that it would be able to get them out again.  “Can you walk?” he asked, swallowing his pride.
          “My…my ankle hurts really bad,” Dreel whispered.
          “Blast it all…here, climb on.”  Acer turned around, gesturing for Dreel to get on his back.  She didn’t need to be told twice, throwing her arms around his neck with the pyre frog still clasped in her hands.
          “We can use Hopper to light the way,” Dreel said, spreading open her fingers.  Sure enough, the darkness yielded to her little green captive, revealing the path in front of Acer once again.
          “It’s not exactly a lantern, but it’ll do,” Acer admitted.  He leaned forward with a grunt, hoisting his sister with a leg tucked under each arm, then cautiously began making his way to the tunnel entrance.  There only seemed to be two directions from the mouth of the passage—left, into the same shadows the monstrous creature had disappeared, or right, into an equally pitch-black unknown.  He quickly decided to go right.  “Try to keep Hopper from getting too excited,” Acer said below a whisper.  “We don’t know what else might be listening down here.”
          Dreel nodded, gently stroking the frog’s head as they started their journey back to the surface.  Despite the benefit of its pale green light, everything seemed to blend together.  The moss-covered stone.  The tree roots poking through the crumbling brickwork.  Soon the walls began to curve and divide, splitting off into a labyrinth of other tunnels.  It would have been impossible to discern any way out if not for the slight breeze whistling between the passages.  It brought the faint scent of fresh air to the otherwise dank entrapment, guiding Acer by the nose from one path to another.  All the while, he listened intently, his ears standing on a razor’s edge for any sign of predators lurking in the dark.  Nothing happened to penetrate the deafening silence, but the prolonged weight on his back eventually began to take its toll.  His breathing became heavier, his footsteps dragging with fatigue.  Every scrape of his shoe, every drop of his sweat seemed to echo off the cavernous walls with offensive clarity.
          Just as he thought his nerves couldn’t take anymore, Dreel tapped his shoulder excitedly, pointing ahead to a bright circle looming in the distance.  At last, they had found the mouth of the tunnel!  Acer hurried forward, so elated by the thought of freedom that he didn’t notice the uneven floor in his path.  His foot abruptly caught itself on a raised chunk of stone, spilling him and his precious cargo onto the ground.  Dreel landed hard on her wounded leg, letting out a cry that reverberated deep into the tunnels behind them.  She quickly cupped a hand over her mouth, locking eyes with her brother, both hoping with all their might that the outburst would somehow go unanswered.  Then they heard it.  The raspy snarls.  The scraping of claws from out of the abyss.  They seemed to be coming from everywhere at once, growing louder and more ferocious by the second.
          Acer scrambled to his feet and threw Dreel over his shoulder, scooping up her frog as he made a wild dash for the exit.  His muscles ached, the pain of his fall still throbbing in his hands and knees, but he commanded his body to obey.  To make that last desperate stretch into the light.  With every trembling step, he could hear the gallop of Death increasing its pace.  Faster and faster, its hunger rising to meet his panic, feeling as though it were close enough for him to reach back and touch it.  If they could just make it outside, maybe the creature wouldn’t bother to follow, Acer thought.  Maybe it would shy from the light, choosing the safety of its lair over an easy meal.  Maybe the other villagers would find them.  Surely, Father and Mother had been searching.  They would rally their torches and protect them from the nightmare at his heels.  All he needed to do was make it a little further.  Just a little further…
          With a burst of speed, the siblings came bounding into the open forest, their relief immediately dashed as they found the clearing devoid of any help.  The sounds of approaching danger hadn’t slowed in the slightest, leaving them no better off then they were a moment before.  Without any chance of outrunning the beast, Acer made a break for the largest nearby tree, hunkering into a cage of thick roots at its base.  The only possible refuge for such tiny prey.
          Shivering against the trunk, the children watched as their stalker came barreling out of the tunnel, its monstrous form clear as day in the moonlight.  A man.  No.  An obscene attempt at one, its warped physique covered from head to toe in bristly fur.  It seemed to glide over the ground on its six muscular legs, or rather, what appeared to be human arms.  Each ended with a six-fingered hand, the creature’s blood-stained talons digging into the soft dirt.  It looked straight in the direction of Acer’s hiding place, eyes glassy and pale as milk.  Where the pupils should have been, clustered in triangular formation, were a trio of inky black dots.  The very sight of them sent a chill running down Acer’s spine, and then he knew.  Finally, he knew.  The Eyes of the Moon were more than a mere symbol of wisdom.  They were a herald of doom.  The warning of an ancient evil, long forgotten.
          Before Dreel could even let out a scream, the creature leapt at the tree, a blurred frenzy of claws and teeth.  Wood splintered, dust billowed, but the cage of roots held firm against the onslaught.  The children huddled together, tears of fright streaming down Dreel’s face as the horde of profane arms continued to push inward.  It was only a matter of time before they would reach their quarry.  The tree’s meager defenses would eventually give way, and that would be it.  This was how they would die, Acer thought.  This was the punishment for his arrogance.  If only he had used the gourd as the elders’ instructed, perhaps fortune could have been his protector.  Now his sister would have to share in his fate.  A painful and meaningless end.
          “I’m sorry,” Acer cried.  “It’s all my fault.  I’m the only one that should have to pay.”  He took Dreel by the shoulders, gently pulling her away.  “Stay here and take care of Hopper.  Wait until that thing’s gone and then get as far away as you can.  Try to find Mother.  Tell her I’m sorry I didn’t listen.”
          “Where are you going?” Dreel whimpered.  “What are you going to do?”
          Acer looked at Dreel, pausing to offer a loving smile.  “I’m going to make things right.”  He turned his gaze to the creature, watching carefully as its claws plunged in and out from between the roots.  After a couple of false starts, he managed to properly time a solid kick, smashing a taloned finger against the side of the tree.  The beast reared back with an ear-splitting scream, lowering its guard long enough for Acer to slip out from behind the roots.  He quickly circled around the far side of the tree, sprinting as fast as he could in the direction of the village.  The canopy of leaves overhead was thinner here, allowing the moons to guide his path once again.  A welcome advantage, to be sure, but it was too little, too late.
          The creature was already hot on his trail and gaining at inhuman speed.  Even without the burden of his sister, the boy knew he wouldn’t get far.  His grand escape was only delaying the inevitable, but that was precisely the plan.  It was never about survival.  It was about the distraction.  The sacrifice.  A final gift of mercy from a wayward son.  Acer could already hear the stampede catching up from behind.  The steaming hot breath on the nape of his neck.  He closed his eyes, bracing himself for the gaping jaws about to clamp around his throat when he felt the all-too-familiar sensation of falling take hold of him instead.
          He didn’t see the embankment marking the edge of the Fi’kettu Family farm.  Neither did the beast.  Down they went, tumbling over each other into a patch of finely cultivated soil.  Acer landed on something hard, its bulbous shape flattening beneath him with a watery squelch.  The impact knocked the wind from his lungs, stunning him into silence while the creature flailed on the ground beside him.  It swiftly clambered to its “feet”, turning to face him with a mouthful of dagger-like teeth.  Their eyes met, Acer lying utterly paralyzed with fear, yet the creature seemed to stare right through him.  It cocked its head, shifting its unblinking gaze from side to side as though Acer had suddenly become invisible.  He didn’t dare make a move, a breath, watching curiously as the beast’s canine snout began sniffing at the air.
          Had the fall disoriented it?  Acer couldn’t see any noticeable injuries, so why would it stop now?  How could it lose him when he was sprawled helplessly right in front of it?  The creature took a step forward, its wet nose meandering in his direction.  Acer slowly flexed his arm to prop himself up, the slightest shifting of dirt causing the beast’s pointed ears to stand up tall.  Now he understood what he was dealing with.  This wasn’t a creature of light.  It was a denizen of the depths.  What need would it have for the gift of sight when the darkness of its keep had nothing to offer?  It had long since abandoned the use of its own eyes, giving itself instead to the mastery of smell, sound and the vibrations beneath its touch.  An apex predator of the stone tunnels.  But here, wandering about the surface?  It was nothing more than a blind monster.
          Even so, the beads of sweat on Acer’s brow soon began to betray him.  The creature took another step closer, catching wind of his scent, saliva dripping from its open maw.  It was almost on top of him now, leaving Acer with no choice but to try and evade.  He sat himself up, about to crawl backwards on his hands when he felt another bulbous object crunch loudly under his palm.  Acer’s blood ran cold, his eyes fixed on the creature’s reaction.  It chuckled deep in its throat, muscles tensing for the final pounce, then suddenly froze with a grimace.  Its nostrils flared in disgust, Acer’s doing the same as he started to smell it too.  A new stench filling the air.  One he seemed to recognize.
          He looked down at his side, finding his hand buried in the remains of a gourd.  A gourd of Daga.  Acer spotted several more scattered all around him, deducing the slime under his rump to be yet another.  It was an entire crop of the fruit.  Without a second thought, Acer scooped up a glob of the stinky pulp and smeared it across his face, grabbing more to slather on his arms and chest.  The creature slowly backed away, increasingly repulsed by the vicious odor.
          CRACK!
          Acer smashed open another melon, pouring its contents over the legs of his pants.  Before long he was completely bathed in crimson muck, its putrescence finally sending the creature into full retreat.  It scurried to the top of the embankment, throwing the boy one last loathsome glare before vanishing back into the trees.  As for Acer, he couldn’t help but smile.  Who would have thought that his life could be saved by wearing a fruit instead of eating it?


          Back at the festival grounds, the party was well underway.  Fires blazed, laughter filled the air, but one poor couple was far too anxious to pay it any mind.  They were too preoccupied with what had become of their two missing children, each of them pacing back and forth along the edge of the forest.
          “They must’ve gotten turned around in the fog,” the mother said, tugging nervously at the braids in her hair.  “Acer would have known how to follow the night sky back home.  Maybe they’re waiting for us at the house.”
          “We’ve already gone there and back,” the father replied, trying to mask his own panic.  “There wasn’t any sign of them along the trail either.  We should try canvassing the grounds again.  They’ve got to be here somewhere.”
          “I never should have left them alone,” the mother cried.  “What if we can’t find them?  They could be hurt…maybe even…”  She couldn’t finish the thought, turning to check down the forest path for the hundredth time.  To her astonishment, a figure happened to be emerging from the shadows.  A girl riding piggyback on her brother’s shoulders, pyre frog gleaming brightly in her hands.  “Dreel?!  Acer?!  Thank the Nirmata!”  Their mother ran to meet them, throwing her arms out in a crushing embrace.  “You two had me worried sick!  Just where did you—?”  She pulled away, realizing that both children were covered top to bottom in red sticky pulp.  “What in the world?!  Is that…Daga juice?  What did you do to your Moons’ Eye?”
          Acer looked up at his mother and gave her a knowing smile.  “Don’t worry, Mom,” he said.  “I can see a lot better this way.”

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