The moon, a silent observer, ascended higher in the night sky. From the depths of the jungle, a lone wolf howled, its mournful cry answered by another echoing down from the mountain peaks. The sound pierced through Rezak's thoughts, pulling him from the jumbled puzzle of his own reality. Or perhaps, it was just missing pieces - pieces he desperately needed to find.
He glanced at the small figure nestled beneath a blanket on the bed. Delena, the little flame, slept peacefully, oblivious to the turmoil brewing around her. A lantern, suspended from a wooden beam, swayed gently, casting dancing shadows across the hut's interior.
"You believe him," Rezak stated, his voice tight as he shifted on the rough stool. "That madman spouted nonsense about a bloody moon, a starless sky, and her being some destroyer, and you just swallow it whole?"
Silence. The chief remained impassive; his gaze fixed on some unseen point beyond the flickering firelight. Sera, too, offered no response.
Rezak turned to her, his frustration mounting. "Sera," he pressed, "you haven't seen this red moon, have you?"
Her lack of reply hung heavy in the air, an answer he already knew deep down. He, too, clung to a shred of hope, a denial of the chilling truth. Hope for years with his family, a chance to live, not just survive. Right now, names and identities mattered little; all he craved was the warmth of their presence.
"Chief," Sera rose from the bed, her eyes never leaving her slumbering daughter. "There's one thing I need to know. What do the red moon and the starless sky represent?"
The chief remained motionless, his voice low and contemplative when he finally spoke. "Have you ever wondered why most stories we tell our children have happy endings? It's because we want them to believe in hope, however fragile it may be. Ironically, that hope crumbles with the final word."
Rezak frowned, confused by the philosophical turn.
"Think about it," the chief continued, leaning forward. "We cling to the comfort of lies, ignoring truths that might be too much to bear. We pretend everything will be alright."
"But what does that have to do with the red moon?" Rezak shared a bewildered look with Sera.
"The story I told tonight," the chief began, his voice hushed, "about The Creator and his children weakening his power – that wasn't the true ending. It was the ending we desired, the one that offered a glimmer of hope for our world's future."
"You mean there's more to the story?" Rezak's voice held a sliver of dread.
The chief nodded slowly. "My ancestors held sacred texts, and I am their guardian now. These texts speak of the red moon and the starless sky. They say..."
Sera's voice, soft yet chilling, filled the silence. "When the sky bleeds, and the moon rises crimson..." she looked at the chief, her eyes searching.
His own widened in surprise. "You… you amaze me, woman."
Rezak, feeling lost in the cryptic exchange, interjected. "Wait, that's incomplete, right?"
"Indeed," the chief confirmed.
Sera sighed, her gaze lingering on her sleeping child. "Sleep, my love, for The Creator is dead, and the end draws near."
The chief chuckled, a hint of amusement in his tone. "Where did you hear that, pray tell? You claim this lullaby, with all due respect, is from your sacred texts?" The absurdity of it painted the night even stranger for Rezak. His life used to be straightforward - the quarry, the hunt, the woman he loved, the path laid out by The Creator. Now, everything was tangled, twisted into an unrecognizable mess. "A lullaby?"
The chief ignored him, his gaze fixed on Sera. "Where did you hear that?"
Sera shook her head, uncertainty clouding her features. "I… I don't know. After the accident, I had a fever, and I kept babbling those words."
"Impossible!" the chief exclaimed.
"What's wrong with the lullaby?" Rezak wanted nothing more than to find and pummel the red-haired man under guard.
The chief's voice dropped to a hushed whisper. "That lullaby… it's sung by Time herself. To keep The Creator's children asleep."