The screams of a lady echoed in the medical room. They were not screams of pain or cries of someone fighting for his life; they were the screams of a woman giving birth. The air inside the medical room grew more intense as the smell of blood mixed with the smell of herbs.
"Come on, Ellie, push," the midwife said. The screams grew stronger. "I can see the head, a little more."
"It is alive," Ellie said, her voice shaking, carrying pain with each breath. "I know it is. I can't feel him, but it has to be." She continued pushing with hope and fear. She pushed harder and harder. Each push carried a sign of hope, then the fear of a stillborn baby came to her. She could not sense the baby—no magic, even though everyone is born with it; no aura, even though every unborn has an aura. This one didn't have it. "Please, Lunar, I beg of you, let it be alive," she said to herself.
Outside stood a man leaning on the wall in front of the room, his boot thudded against the floor, the rhythm fast and uneven. He crossed his hands as the tension grew stronger, his sword on his waist, always ready for a fight. His face was scarred with battles against creatures no normal man could face; he was a hunter. "I can't feel him," he mumbled. The screams from inside grew stronger, and his fear grew bigger. "No magic, no aura, nothing. Lunar please, let it be safe."
Then the screams stopped; only the sound of the boot hitting concrete was left. The man stopped. There were no cries, not of a baby nor of a woman, just silence. Then, "Charlie, come," Ellie's voice came from within the room. Charlie rushed inside; the door hit the wall as he burst in. He saw Ellie sitting on the bed, her hair wet from sweat, plastered to her face, holding the infant that was wrapped in cloths. "He's alive, I knew it."
Charlie looked in shock as he got closer to her. It was a boy, their child. It did not cry, but it was alive. He hugged Ellie and the baby, then took a step back and looked at the baby. It was clean, no weird marks, no sign of anything wrong, except he still had nothing, no magic. Charlie tried to sense it but couldn't; he simply did not have it. "Ellie, he looks fine, but sti—"
He was cut off by a scream from outside. Charlie shifted his gaze to the window; something was wrong. The light outside was not white from the moon; it was red, crimson. Charlie saw monsters that shouldn't have been near the village emerge from the ground, monsters stronger than ones the village was ready for. He kissed Ellie's forehead, "I have to go out, stay here." Ellie looked at him, eyes wide with confusion and fear, but she did not ask questions; she just nodded.
"Stay safe," she said as he left the room. The crimson light started to fill the room. Could it be Lunar, she thought, no, no, why would she do th—, her thoughts were cut off as she passed out.
Outside, the moon bled. Charlie had never seen anything like it. The sky turned crimson as more and more human-shaped monsters emerged from the ground. Charlie saw a monster trying to attack a villager. He pulled his sword—a black, slightly bent blade called Clain. Charlie lunged forward, slicing the monster in half, but it wasn't enough. It was a Vornak, a type of zombie formed only from magic. The only way to kill it was to destroy its core. A monster from the forests in the far south, Charlie knew it. He lit his sword with fire and summoned lightning from the skies, piercing the middle of its chest, setting it on fire. Then lightning struck it, finally killing it.
Charlie looked up and saw the others. Some died, some were being eaten, and some ran, screaming in pain and fear. The village was filled with these sounds. Charlie held Clain with his hands, then lunged towards the monsters, slaying them, casting fire, lightning, and ice, all to attack the Vornak and protect the villagers. This is not like the black moon; it is much worse, he thought. He made walls from the ground to give the villagers time to find shelter, then he broke them to save more. He kept fighting, blood on him, though he did not know whose it was: his, the Vornak's, or the villagers'. He fought until he could fight no more, he fought until he couldn't cast any more, he fought until his hands gave up. He fought like a man possessed.
Then from the ground came a thumping sound, then a rumble. It came from the ground, destroying houses as it rose—a monster the size of two buildings, black with eight eyes, four on each side, and four black horns. A monster that should only be in the white desert, a Mersomufs. It shouldn't be there, and Charlie knew that. He looked at the big monster; fear ran through him. He had just used most of his energy on the Vornaks. How was he going to defeat this one? He didn't care how; he had to. He grabbed Clain tighter, then lunged at one of the creature's arms, cutting it, but not deep enough. The creature screamed and kicked Charlie. He dodged and sliced again in the same place, cutting the arm off completely. The creature lost its balance. Charlie used this to his advantage and cleanly cut off the creature's head. He was out of energy. He used his last strength to go back to the medical bay, back to his wife and child.
He entered the room. The room was silent. A few hours passed, but the baby still did not cry. Charlie still couldn't feel him. "Ellie," he called. No answer. He got closer. "Ellie," he called louder. Nothing. "Ellie, wake up!" he screamed. She finally moved.
"What is it, Charlie?" She raised her head and looked at Charlie. Her face turned pale, eyes widened. "Charlie, your eyes!" He got confused. He looked at the mirror. They were not brown as always; they were crimson like the moon. He took a step back.
"Charlie, I think I know what happened," Ellie said, tears running down her face. She looked at the baby. "Lunar cursed us; it is the only explanation for what's happening," she managed to say through her tears. Charlie looked at the baby. It was possible; it could be cursed, but it wouldn't matter. If the village knew about him not having magic, he would be blamed for this. Charlie got closer and sat on the chair next to Ellie, wiping her tears.
For a moment, the room was silent. "Then let's call him Cidolfus," Charlie said.
"The cursed hero that saved the world, from our old stories?" Ellie asked, her eyes still filled with tears. "It is a lovely name, Cidolfus Lynvern." She smiled, a wide smile filled with love. Charlie softened his face as well; both smiled. They knew that they would have to protect him; they knew that they were going to be the only ones who would love him, but they did not care. They loved him; he was their child.
From that day, the world did not have one cursed moon; they had two: the black and the crimson. With them came blood and tears every year, as the crimson moon came on Cidolfus's birthday to remind him of his curse.
Twelve years have passed.