Chapter 37: The Echoes of the Moon Ancestors
The path to the elders' dwelling was a journey through the heart of the Cascading Falls Village, a vertical masterpiece that never failed to steal Yue Lixue's breath. They descended from their private terrace, their steps taking them across arching stone bridges so slender and graceful they seemed spun from spider-silk. Below, the village river didn't just flow; it danced. It cascaded from one terrace to the next in explicit, thunderous falls that filled the air with a fine, cool mist and a constant, roaring hymn. The water plunged into deep, clear pools where leopard cubs practised their swimming, their joyful shrieks echoing off the limestone.
The entire cliff face was a tapestry of life. Homes were carved directly into the rock, their entrances framed by intricate reliefs of leaping leopards and swirling celestial and rocky patterns. Vibrant tapestries, dyed with berries and minerals, hung in open doorways, fluttering in the misty breeze. The air itself was a blend of scents—wet stone, blooming night flowers, and the rich, smoky aroma of cooking fires from the communal hearths.
As they navigated a particularly beautiful bridge, the main waterfall a shimmering curtain to their right, Korran's hand rested on the small of her back. His gaze was distant, a soft smile playing on his lips.
"A strong name," he mused, breaking the comfortable silence. His voice was a low rumble, harmonizing with the waterfall's bass. "For a son. He'll need a name that speaks of the night, of a hunter's patience." He glanced at her, his amber eyes alight with the game. "What of your people, my love? What are snow leopard names like?"
Yue's heart gave a familiar, bittersweet squeeze. My people. She pictured the snowy peaks of her spiritual home, a place she knew only from dreams and the ghost of a feeling. "I… I don't know," she admitted softly, the confession a painful reminder of her displaced existence. "That part of me is still sleeping."
She looked out over the breathtaking vista, gathering her courage. "But from my first home… where I was born… we had a different way. The family name comes first. It is the name of your bloodline, your clan. It is the most important, for it connects you to your ancestors." She paused, then added, her voice barely a whisper, "My name is Yue Lixue. Yue is my family name."
Korran stopped walking, turning her gently to face him. The roar of the falls seemed to fade into the background. "Yue," he repeated, the single syllable rolling off his tongue with a new, profound respect. "What does it mean?"
"It means 'Moon'," she said.
The effect on him was instantaneous. His eyes widened, and a look of awe, of sheer, brilliant clarity, transformed his features. It was as if she had handed him the final piece of a puzzle he'd been struggling with his whole life. "Moon," he breathed, his gaze dropping to the faint, luminescent mark on her side, then back to her face. "Of course."
He took both her hands in his, his grip firm and sure. "Then that is what they will be," he declared, his voice filled with a finality that brooked no argument. "Our children. They will carry your strength, your spirit, your name. They will be of the Moon first." The idea, revolutionary and deeply honoring, poured from him. "Their names will start with Yue, to honor you and your line. Then, their own name, for their spirit. And it will end with Nightstrider, so all will know they are my heirs, and under my protection." He said it not as a suggestion, but as a decree of nature, as inevitable as the moon rising. "Yue… [Something]… Nightstrider."
Tears pricked at Yue's eyes, so sudden and powerful she had to blink them away. In a world where she often felt like a ghost, he was giving her a dynasty. He was carving her name into the future.
They found Sakura and Artemis in a formal dwelling that seemed part of the mountain itself and more like an older style office, the air thick with the scent of dried mountain thyme, pungent medicinal roots, and ancient, cool stone. The elders listened with unnerving stillness as Yue described her dream, carefully editing out the shimmering golden lion, focusing only on the wary panther and the agitated snow leopard.
When she finished, the two matrons exchanged a single, knowing glance that saw right through the omission, their aged eyes seeing the unsaid words hanging in the herbal-scented air.
A heavy silence followed Miyuki's warning, the grim news sucking the warmth from the room. Sakura and Artemis exchanged another of their silent, weighty looks. Then, Sakura gave a sharp, decisive nod.
"It is time," Miyuki, rising to her feet with a grace that belied her years. "The signs are there, the threat is at our door. We must have certainty."
Looking at Korran, he shrugged but didn't seem too concerned. He nodded reassuringly. Of all people, he would never let any harm come to her.
Artemis mirrored her, her expression uncharacteristically stern. "Come, child. Miyuki, please run ahead and alert the elders."
The youngest female nodded and left the room to do as she was told.
Puzzled, Yue and Korran followed the two matrons out of the dwelling and back into the misty morning light. Instead of leading them to another home, however, the elders guided them higher up the cliff face, along a path that wound behind the main curtain of the largest waterfall. The thunder of the water was deafening here, a primal roar that vibrated through the stone beneath their feet. They entered a cavern hidden behind the cascade, a sacred space where the light was filtered through tons of plunging water, casting everything in a shifting, aqueous blue-green glow.
Inside, at least ten other elder leopard beast women waited, their faces etched with the same deep lines of wisdom and their eyes holding a piercing, collective focus. They stood in a semi-circle around a simple, yet striking, natural feature: a large, flat stone dais. One half of the dais was bathed in a single, brilliant shaft of sunlight that found its way through a cleverly carved aperture in the cave roof. The other half lay in deep shadow, cool and waiting for the moon.
This was the entire council.
"The simplest truths are often the purest," Artemis said, her voice carrying over the rumble of the falls. She gestured to the stone dais. "Step onto the sun-lit half, Yue Lixue."
Hesitant, Yue glanced at Korran, who gave her a firm, encouraging nod. She stepped into the beam of sunlight. It was warm on her skin, but she felt… nothing. No different. The faint beast mark on her side remained a passive, pale blue pattern.
"Now," Sakura instructed, her voice soft yet absolute. "The shadowed half."
Yue moved into the cool darkness. For a moment, there was only the damp air of the cave. And then, as if breathing in the very darkness, the beast mark on her side began to stir. It was subtle at first, a mere brightening of the intricate lines. Then, it began to glow with its own internal, silvery light, the luminescent swirls moving almost imperceptibly, like phosphorescent algae in a deep sea. The light was faint, but undeniable, a cool radiance that pulsed in time with her heartbeat.
A collective, soft intake of breath came from the circle of elders.
One of the other female elders, whom they had not yet met, who seemed younger than the two they'd already met, spoke, her voice low and full of respect for the two eldest. "I am Riku Kawakami. If you, the council, would permit me to speak: The moon's blood answers the moon's light. Even by day, in its absence, her spirit knows its home."
"There is no doubt," Artemis declared, the finality in her tone ending the test. "You are not of the Sun's scorching fire. You are of the Moon, child. A Moonborne. The first in many, many generations."
Sakura turned to Yue, her earlier cryptic manner now replaced with a grim and focused intensity. "Now, with that settled, we can speak clearly of your dream.
Artemis leaned forward, her silver bun glinting in the dim light. "Child," she hesitated, which was unusual for such a strong character, yet her voice was loud and still resonant, like stones shifting deep underground. "Your spirit isn't merely split. It is a crossroads. You are being pulled by a destiny greater than one beast, greater than one mate. You are caught in the ancient dance." She paused, letting the weight of her words settle. "The dance of the Moonborne and Sunborne."
Sakura took over, her fingers tracing the intricate pattern of leaping cats on her beaded tunic. "The current Sun Queen, Samira, is a Jaguar who clawed her way into the Sunstalker line through marriage. She rules not with the sun's life-giving warmth, but with its scorching, cruel fire." Her lips thinned with distaste. "She has a daughter, Zara, who bears the royal Sunstalker name but not a drop of its sacred blood. Together, they are a blight, seeking to chain the last known true Sunborne heir, Prince Veyram, to legitimise their poisonous rule."
Their history lesson, a terrifying unveiling of the world's balance, was shattered by a sudden, frantic energy at the entrance. Miyuki appeared again, her face pale, her usual graceful composure shattered. "Elders, please forgive the intrusion," she breathed, her chest heaving. "Traders from the southern river clan, the rabbits, have passed through on their pre-autumn trade of herbs… they bring dark news."
The air in the room went cold. "The Sun Queen has declared all major roads under her dominion. Her Jaguar patrols are enforcing it… brutally." Miyuki's gaze flickered to Korran and Yue, her meaning clear. "The Deer Tribe's casualties have increased... I'm not sure you're travelling companions are aware, but we will make them aware, unless you would prefer? This is just the beginning."
The abstract political threat was gone. It had just become a present, growing, and terrifyingly real danger, its shadow stretching from the sun-baked roads of the lowlands all the way to their mist-shrouded, peaceful cliffs.