Moonbeams and Moonlight
an excerpt

Magic: (maj’ik), n. 1) The practice of using various techniques, as incantation, to exert control over the supernatural or the forces of nature. 2) Any extraordinary influence or power. 3) Mysteriously enchanting, skillful or effective.

Magic by its very definition is something so extraordinary that it can’t be explained easily. Well, at least true magic cannot. We often say, “Oh that moment was magical,” or “It happened as if by magic,” to explain things that at the time we had no understanding about. Later, we find a reason for that seemingly magical moment or we were wrapped up in the heat of passion at the time.

I was a firm disbeliever of magic until I ran into it, literally. At first my doubt was absolute, but it gradually gave way to incredulity when I saw and experienced things no mortal has ever witnessed. I would learn that there is a thin line between what we pitiable humans perceive as reality and the magical barrier that is in front of us, calling and enticing us with its siren song. I never would have thought that time could flow in any direction but forward but then who knew that one hour in time could be a week in another or that a second could quite literally be a lifetime elsewhere?

Let us start at the beginning since it is the only way justice can be served to such an incredible tale.

For those disbelievers be forewarned, this tale is true. Cast your doubts aside and let a little magic into your life.
--Journal of ML scribe

Prologue

Shayleah sat astride her war stallion, Moonwave, stroking his black mane slowly. The horse and rider were almost one color. Moonwave’s solid black hide and her black hooded cloak made them hard to distinguish from the shadows the trees cast. A brisk spring wind was blowing through the Nathone Forest, rustling her cloak and Moonwave’s mane, the only movement in the otherwise still forest. The unusual brilliant glow on the meadow below should have dissipated a long time ago, but as always, around Shayleah, magic never behaved properly. In fact, one might say it misbehaved.

“Deep thoughts?” the hardened voice of her second-in-command asked, causing Shayleah to slowly turn and give Gerton a long look followed by a grin that coaxed an answering one from him.

Shayleah looked at Gerton’s war stallion, Sunchaser, who stood eighteen hands tall. He was heavily muscled, but then he had to be to carry Gerton. Horse and rider were a contrast of colors. Gerton’s black, almost blue skin, coupled with his solid black armor, cloak and pants, against Sunchaser’s silver coat made the pair stand out and demand attention. Gerton’s muscles and stern expression caused many an enemy to quake in fear. And if that didn’t do it, his giant sword did.

Shayleah snorted. “Deep thoughts? When do I have anything but?” she teased before glancing at his right arm. “How are you feeling?”

“It is good to be back, M’lady. And I feel restored. Don’t worry about the arm. I will have a nice scar to remember the ogre by.” He gave her a half bow.
“Please be careful in the future. You know I would be lost without you,” she added as an afterthought.

“Only you would say such a thing to me, youngling, but that is fine. There is change in the air. I can feel it and it reeks of Veil magic.”

“I don’t know, Gerton. We shall see.” Shayleah cast a knowing look at the soon-to-be battlefield below.

Shayleah looked up when she heard Lentran and Fiercene approaching. The two males were as different as night and day. Lentran had a tendency to be very taciturn. His sarcastic wit drove away any who wanted to know the very private man. Fiercene was like most dwarves—handsome, by their standards, very boisterous and sometimes boastful.

“Shayleah, all are gathered and ready,” Fiercene reported as he arrived first and hefted his war axe with ease, his hardened muscles barely tensing with the effort. He wore a light gleaming silver chainmail shirt. His dark brown hair was braided in a myriad of thick braids that fell to the middle of his back. His beard too was braided, as was the custom of his people, and fell to the middle of his chest.

“I still think we should pass on this one. It does not feel right.” Lentran calmly stepped into view, his sword strapped to his back. A familiar tension of excitement seemed to ripple around him. He was ever ready for the next battle, no matter its scale.

Gerton was frowning at Lentran. “You have no magic, yet you feel it too?”

His question brought Shayleah’s attention back to the conversation at hand.

“Aye, Milord, I don’t think we should do this.” Lentran crossed his arms, his forest green armor pulling tight across his body to show his muscles beneath. His entire outfit, including his cloak, was of the same shade. “The First Ones may have wanted this but it does not appear right. I cannot explain it. I have my instincts and they say to abandon this endeavor.”

Shayleah pursed her lips and regarded Lentran. She looked to Fiercene. “And you, Milord Dwarf? What do you think of this battle?”

“Everything is perfect and that is why I have my doubts. I will follow where you lead, Shayleah, but I urge caution if Lentran is right,” he offered with a respectful nod to the human.

“Gerton?” Shayleah asked softly. If he said the same thing she would call off this battle and withdraw. It was not her style to run from a fight, but if it would cost more lives than necessary, she’d rather flee first and nurse her wounded pride later.

Gerton looked at the other two men and then nodded slowly. “As much as it galls me, I have to agree with both of them. The light is an ill omen. We should fall back.” It pricked Gerton’s pride to have to leave a challenge to their skills unanswered, but Shayleah was in command and he would abide by her decisions.

Shayleah shook her head. “Then let us fa--,” she began when they heard the bugling of a horn from the meadow below, accompanied by battle cries of Trolgres and the mercenaries Dwarf King Lopadki Alake had hired. She snarled and dug her heels into a startled Moonwave, who whinnied shrilly, and crashed through the forest, heading for the battle.

Hot on Shayleah’s heels were Gerton and Sunchaser. Shayleah risked a glance to her left and saw Fiercene on his chestnut war pony, Nightpower, keeping pace. She looked to her right and saw Lentran on his albino war stallion, Swift.

Smiling savagely, she and Moonwave led the charge into the meadow and chaos. All around various species were engaged in combat. She spotted ogres, unicorns, elves, humans, pixies and dwarfs, all fighting the oncoming Trolgre army.

Shayleah knew that the Dwarf King Lopadki Alake had hired the mercenaries in addition to his own army, which was large indeed. His realm was one of the wealthier Dwarven kingdoms. The Trolgres would not last against their might.

Letting out her battle cry, Shayleah charged into the fray.