Fairytale retellings & Myths Reimagined

Stripes of Moon

The warrior hefted his shield higher and continued walking. The road uphill was treacherous and the nothingness behind him gaped open as the winds howled around him.

But he wouldn't yield; he had traveled a long way from his empire, had slain dragons and saved many ladies in need. As if he could see their tears in their rose-colored cheeks before him, the warrior smiled grimly. A hero's quest never ends.

And that was why he was climbing now. A quest was given to him; to slay the priestess who resided in the top of the mountain. The Emperor and the scholars who had summoned him spoke of a crone of a woman, whose powers had turned the mountain barren and that the children born into the villages close to her, under the full moon, bore curious shaped stripes on their backs.

Like the ones of a tiger's.

Creatures extinct long before the warrior's time, they were considered mythical, imbued with powers that were close to the ones of the gods. Protectors of the stars, keepers of spirits, it was told that they had sacrificed their powers in order to save humanity from the Rebellion of the Dragon, when Dragons roamed free and were destroying everything in their path.

The scholars had told the warrior that the last Tiger King had locked away the celestial creatures, giving to the humans the freedom to populate the earth, and for the Empire to rise.

But the warrior cares not for the mumblings of bent men, who spent more time in their dusty tomes than in perceiving earthly pleasures. Their knowledge though was precious and the talismans he was given, just in case, were part of the warrior's arsenal.

He heaved a sigh, pulled higher the hood of his red cape, and continued walking. His armor, polished with no creaks felt heavy, the pack on his back enormous. But his eyes, dark pools were focused on the road ahead.

After an eternity to the warrior's senses, he finally reached the top of the road. The path ahead narrowed suddenly as thick masses of trees branched upwards, covering the sky and stopping most of the winds cruel cold. He exhaled, thankful for the shield of the forest, and walked faster.

It was dark, yet the illumination of the magic stones embed on the hero's shield helped him navigate through the greenery. When the foliage became thicker his sword slashed through the echo of it making him feel unsettled. It was quiet...too quiet.

"Are you lost?"

The warrior spun, his sword drawn, shield raised up. He stared at the woman, who looked at him with equal curiosity. She looked young, maybe ten years younger than him, with skin luminous like the moon and hair dark blue, almost black cascading down to her middle. Her coat was a peculiar color of grey and red, the colors seemed to swirl as she slowly moved towards him.

"What are you doing up here?" the warrior asked, looking at her, then around them. "This is no place for a woman."

"Isn't it?" the woman tilted her head looking at him. "I happen to find forests like this one wonderful companion to my...explorations."

The warrior lowered his sword and stared at her. Was she from the village down to the floor of the mountain? And why was she here, where the crone too could make a kill out of her? "My lady you need to leave."

She hefted her coat closer to her. "No, I don't. In fact, why don't you come with me? My home is not far." She looked up and down. "And you need some rest too."

The warrior's eyes narrowed. And a thought, slithering and suspicious made him smile at the woman. "Thank you for the offer, my lady. Please lead the way."

He sheathed his sword and followed the woman. The forest was quiet as they walked, no sounds of life, or birds, and the earlier windstorm felt as if it had never passed from the warrior's mind. He watched the woman as she walked unhurriedly in front of him. She could have been a great addition to his conquests...if she wasn't the crone.