Moonchild Rising

Epilogue – Moonchild Rising

The Arcrecian Woodlands is a realm unto itself, stretching wide beneath the vast sky, where towering trees rose in silent majesty. Their trunks, thick and ancient, were cloaked in moss and ivy, and their great branches intertwined above, forming a verdant canopy that allowed only fragments of sunlight to reach the forest floor below. Here, shadows danced gently in the dappled light, and life flourished unseen by most eyes.

Hidden within these deep woods, nestled between moss-covered boulders and concealed by ferns that draped gracefully over the earth, stood a humble hovel—barely more than a shelter of weathered wood and thatched roof. Few villagers from Esupte, the nearest settlement, knew it truly existed; to most, it was nothing but a whispered legend shared at gatherings by firelight, an eerie tale to keep curious children safely indoors after dark.

To Veeka Moontail, a Possum Wildkin, this modest dwelling was her refuge, her sanctuary. It was where she grew up, where memories, both joyous and painful, were woven deeply into every cracked plank and worn stone.

Veeka had never known an easy life. She was born prematurely, during a storm so fierce that it seemed the world itself protested her arrival. Her mother, Eralia, had died giving her life, and Veeka was left with a permanent reminder of that stormy night—a malformed left arm, far shorter than her right, lacking a proper paw and elbow, ending instead with a single clawed digit. It was an affliction known as phacomelia, and in the eyes of superstitious villagers, it branded her Exa-touched—marked by ill omen and misfortune.

The stigma was heavy, a burden Veeka carried from her earliest memories. Yet, within the hardships, she found strength and resolve. Diego, her grieving father, did his best to shield her from the worst of the villagers' prejudices. But Diego's grief over losing Eralia never truly healed, and it gradually consumed him, weakening his health and spirit.

As a Wildkin, Veeka was innately attuned to nature, a connection reflected deeply in her life and beliefs. She revered ancestral spirits, often performing quiet rituals beneath the moonlight, asking for guidance from her forebears and blessing the souls of creatures lost to the woods.

From a young age, Veeka learned to bear the responsibility of survival. She taught herself how to move unseen, mastering the art of stealth beneath the gentle glow of Gaia’s moons, earning herself the affectionate nickname "Moonchild." Her paws, particularly adept at climbing and delicate manipulations, became skilled at tasks few others could manage. Animals, sensing her Wildkin heritage, treated her without fear, their wary eyes acknowledging a shared, ancestral kinship.

Her first theft was small—a few pieces of bread, a handful of herbs from the local healer's stall. Each night she returned with something new, her agile form slipping gracefully through Esupte’s quiet streets and market squares, driven not by greed, but by sheer necessity. Every theft, every coin earned through petty crimes, was for her father's care, food on their table, and medicine to ease his failing health.

Word spread quietly among Esupte's less reputable citizens of the Moonchild's growing talent. Thieves and fences welcomed her, recognizing her value and skills. Veeka soon developed a quiet reputation, trusted for her efficiency, reliability, and subtlety. Her personality was charming and endearing to most who met her, her demeanor often playful and innocent. Yet beneath this charming exterior lay a fierce spirit—when cornered or threatened, Veeka could become surprisingly aggressive and even nasty, a trait that had saved her life more than once. She remained cautious, careful never to attract too much attention—aware that notoriety could bring unwanted dangers to her secluded doorstep.

But Veeka’s heart harbored dreams far beyond the edges of Esupte, dreams ignited by whispered stories of lands untouched and ruins lost to time. Tales from wandering adventurers passing through the village spoke of distant cities, forgotten magic, and treasures waiting in darkness. These stories sparked an undeniable yearning within her, a desire to see the vastness of Gaia, to experience more than the simple, constrained existence she had known.

Yet dreams of adventure held dangers, she knew, as she discovered one night beneath a crescent moon. Her nimble paws would soon swipe something darker and far more perilous than mere trinkets or medicines. This object, taken impulsively from a mysterious traveler whose laughter had the unsettling ring of madness, would draw her into the twisted schemes of a sinister cult.

It was a theft that would change everything, marking the beginning of Veeka’s journey into the unknown. It was a path she had never intended, filled with mysteries she scarcely understood and peril that would test her courage and resilience. Amidst madness and magic, allies and enemies, Veeka would discover that the meaning of family extended far beyond blood, and that strength often lay hidden within those who the world dismissed.

This is the tale of Veeka Moontail—of her courage, her struggles, her misadventures, and the rising of the Moonchild.