The Shadow of the Moon
Crescent was a difficult baby. At least so he’d been told.
He screamed through the night and constantly needed attention. His parents (often Horror) would have to carry him for hours just to calm him down.
That’s why it came as such a surprise and relive when, around the age of four, it all changed.
He grew, like so many children did, out of the phase and suddenly, he was quiet,Independent, and Content to spend time alone.
His father, once so tense and tired, seemed relieved. He even began to spend more time with him calmer, steadier now, able to connect with him.
Around that time, Crescent earned the privilege to be called by his name and not "the Baby" or Creature. And Crescent turned out to be gifted. Everyone said he was clever brilliant, even.
By six, he was already showing strong magical talent at the very start of his training. At seven, he learned to form his tentacles just like his father.
He was so proud.
He ran to show him immediately. It didn’t go as he thought. He didn’t understand the reaction. That fake smile. That flicker of something cold in his father’s eyes fear Crescentwas emotional intelegendat a young age. After that, he learned to be like his father wanted. To read between the lines and become obedient and intelligent. He learned to walk like he was avoiding a minefield. Learned when to talk to his dad. Learned how to manipulate the people around him to get what he wanted. Learned to use his emotions as weapons. Learned to show perfection on the outside and hide the rest away. And he learned not to summon his tentacles again unless someone asked him to do so.
And so he grew and learned more over the years. Became more. Became more and more careful as his dad grew more and more hostile towards him... towards everyone.
Still
He never disobeyed his father. Not like PJ
.He never fully understood why PJ hated his father so much,he never fully understood Pj at all, but he had always been this way. Maybe he envied the relationship he never could build? PJ rebelled.
Pushed back.
Set his own path on fire just to prove he could.
And sometimes Crescent wondered how he did it.
How was he able to be this untouchable while he himself felt like he was pushed and pulled in a thousand different directions?
Like PJ might envied him, he did envy PJ.
That jealousy made him sick. A jealousy so sharp, so unbearable, that on some days, he couldn’t even look at PJ. He avoided him completely. Yet, strangely, on those same days, he felt closer to his father.
For a moment. Until it faded.Always, it faded.
Now
He saw how PJ opened a portal, his body screamed and begged him to pull himself free. He didn’t hear anymore the magic flowing in him was too distracting as he felt like this was danger.
Wrong.
False.
PJ stood before it, ready to step into
He looked at his father.
Something was off. He was... not well. Crescent saw it in his eyes. He had the strange feeling that this could put him in danger as well.
Their roles seemed to be switched. Crescent realized that he had to stop his father from something he would regret.
Without more thinking, he moved. Rushed forward. Shoved PJ into the swirling unknown.
And he would’ve lied if he said he didn’t enjoy it.Just a little.
And PJ?
He hadn’t looked betrayed. He’d looked... happy. And that expression would burn itself in Crescent’s memory for years to come right beside the one of the now empty spot that was left behind after the portal closed. His thoughts spun and only stopped with the scream—
The scream of a father.
Error.
He wasn’t supposed to be back so soon. He should still be away on his mission.
But he had returned.
Maybe he, too, had felt the doom rising like a tide? Or maybe it was his parental instinct.
When he saw the ink staining the ground beneath them, he understood.
Terror gripped his voice. He screamed,
“What happened?! Where is my child?! Where is PJ?!”
Crescent’s father said nothing
Silent.
Still.
Crescent said nothing.
Silent.
Still.
Because none of them could answer.
None of them could tell him.
None of them knew
