Fairy tales are more then true: Not because they tell us that dragons exist, but because they tell us that dragons can be beaten.
G.K. Chesterton
Once upon a time, you could look up to the sky, and see there were no stars. No moon. No sun. Just darkness. Never-ending darkness as far as one could not see. And in this dark world, there lived a boy. This boy lived in a vast labyrinth of caves and ravines, deep, deep where it was dark and cold. Even in a world with no LIGHT or heat, it was cold and dark. This boy is just one minor miner, like thousands of others mining gemstones and other precious metals.
The boy grumbled loudly as he shuffled back to the quarters he shared with two other miners, holding his right hand along the wall to navigate in the absence of LIGHT. He felt a dip in the wall, and when he investigated further, he found lukewarm wood instead of cold hard stone. He sighed in relief. It was not uncommon for people to be lost and never seen again without LIGHT. He entered the chambers, and fumbled around in his pockets, before removing three metal crescents from his pocket. They slightly glowed yellow, and were peckered with indents, designed to look like the craters of the moon, or so the people were told. Most of them had never seen the moon in their life. The boy threw two crescents to the ground. “They cut our pay again. One Waxing Crescent per week.” The two pieces were quickly snatched up by his bunkmates, and the LIGHT left the metal, flowing into the miners. The Magic of the Crescents crawled through their veins, patterns of golden LIGHT etching themselves into skin. Swirling and flowing up and down, each one of them had radically different patterns on them. The boy looked at his arms, his eyes turning from the almost-black brown they were into golden for a couple seconds, granting him blessed sight for a few short seconds. He had forgotten just how beautiful he was. Warmth spread throughout his body, healing the sores and other hurting he had taken on the past week. His body hungered for more. He needed more of the LIGHT. His markings slowly started to vanish, and his eyes dimmed, sight darkening back into blindness. Warmth cooled down. He sighed loudly. This much LIGHT wouldn’t last him a day. How would he survive until next week?
