The Red Night

November 29th, 1703, Amberfields Village, Northwestern Province

A father and daughter sat by the lake on the village outskirts. The evening light began to fade, the sky a canvas of soft orange and purples.

“A Blue Moon brings the cold”, he explained. “Ice, snow and ferocious winds.”

She looked up at him, examining his weathered face as he explained the all-too-new concept to her. 

“A Purple Moon”, he continued, “brings us water. Rain storms, towering waves that crash

into the coastal cliffs and floods that would make Poseidon himself shake in his boots."

She shuffled uneasily, wearing an anxious look on her face. 

“And at last, the White Moon, which is what we have now, brings honesty in men. It brings peace, tranquility and innocence.”

She didn’t understand most of those words, but from reading his facial expression she could tell that it was one of hope. He hadn’t flinched his gaze from the vastness of the placid waters.

“Tonight”, he pulled himself to his feet on the pebbles of the shore, “the Moon changes. But you should not worry, for the White Moon has stayed with us for over 100 years now, she is a part of us and I expect her to remain.” The girl joined him on her feet.

They began back towards the village, trudging through the mud of a narrow forest trail lined with creaking trees. The sun shimmered through the leaves as they walked, and the man noticed that the eye of day had begun its descent. Sunset was coming.

The small village was bustling with people. It consisted of two dozen log buildings, tattered roofs and one stone church which leant dangerously off-balance. Cattle grazed, children played and smoke bloomed from the chimneys.

Outside the church, the Priest stood by the doors. As the man and daughter entered from the trees, he summoned them with a gesture.

“I do not want to hear more of your conspiracies, father”, the man said before the Priest could begin. “You are a drunk fool who has been worrying the town into submission.” The father looked towards his young daughter. “Come along”. 

They left the priest at the door, leaning with a bottle of ale in his right hand and a crucifix in his left. “I tried to warn them”, he muttered to himself.

He was a tall man, grizzly, with a beard of tangled grey hair, shaggy eyebrows and a soul piercing stare. Despite his less than desirable habit of binge drinking and the village murmurs of his sexual relations, he was unanimously seen as a wise man. And he knew something the others did not.

As the sun dipped over the horizon, the population of the village all sat in wait. Blooms of condensation came from everyone's mouth. It was mid-winter after all. An eerie tension hung thick in the air.

The children sat on the rooftops together, the men and women hung their heads out from the tavern door or stood by their houses. The priest watched from the church uneasily, praying. 

“This is it, men and women”, the man announced as his daughter held his hand. “No matter what we get, White, Purple, or Blue, we will take it in our stride. We are strong, and we have built this community to withstand anything.” He expected at least a cheer of encouragement, but was met only with the uneasy chattering of men and nervous silence of women and children.  Damn priest has them all delusioned, he thought. And then, it happened. The sun finally fell below the treeline. They all watched in anticipation. White, they all prayed, give us White. 

The Moon arrived, casting a crimson haze across the atmosphere. Through the tree branches, a scarlet shade crawled across the village slowly. As the moon rose above the treeline, the village sat in silence. It was a hellish blood-red, radiating powerfully over the land. The priest nodded to himself. “I tried to warn them”. 

In the distance, a howl pierced the frigid air, and in the trees, bats swooped and fluttered restlessly.

“Daddy, I’m scared”, the man’s daughter said.

“It’s fine, my child”, his eyes were glassy and lifeless as he watched the Moon inch higher and higher, his face a picture of confusion and disbelief. “Do not worry”.