There is much magic in the world. And when it flows free it is a wondrous thing, bearing prophecies and knowledge to chieftain and milk maid alike. But when it weaves itself into the flesh and bones of a mortal soul noxious cysts begin to grow and the beneficial nature of the thing festers into something else.
Such is the way with Life-Eaters. Those wide-eyed innocents beguiled into never ending union with the night. You may know them by other names. Your people may call them Nefalim, or Windego, or Vampires.
In rare cases a few have been domesticated, living in darkness and spitting out lies which simple souls took to be divine. But most survive as outlaws, racing with the moon. They hide from the sun, for their silver, orbed mother is at war with him and she knows he'll kill her babies.
And they bed down to rest in alien earth each morn, for they are forever on the run.
You have seen these lucid wanderers. You know you have. You know that. A silent walker spied through the draperies of an upstairs window on a frost-tinged winter's night. How did it know you were there in the darkness? How did it know to look up? But look up in did, as you jumped from the glass, burrowing deep into the covers and shivering with fear and delight.
How fortunate you were to have witnessed such a miraculous thing. How lucky to survive.
And early spring nights are a special time. Young ones are drawn to the chill, moist vapors swirling through trees and cold, parked cars. Be careful. Go not out alone, for the night has a thousand eyes. Just be sure not to close your own if you should sneeze.
God bless you. God bless you all.
And may the Children of the Moon dance with other partners, for all that I have told you here is true .
Piper, piper, in the night. Skin so pale and eyes so bright. Play your tune for other ears. Tarry not with me......
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