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“Page 06: A Crescent Moon” I read.
I am flipping the page, falling forwards and down into the narrative in a swift, fluid motion.
“Whoa!” I exclaim, thanking my lucky Star, for being in this secluded location where I don't expect anyone to see me or find out.
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It is the night of the Crescent Moon festival.
I had prepared myself, for what is to come. Or, at least it is my impression. After all, I had acquired the items I need for the festival at hand.
At first glance, it's a holiday and a festival, like most all others. Though just like every holiday and festival; it has traditions, requiring preparations and garb. It is not a mere suit or costume, of the sort; but, I intend to wear it proudly for the night.
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The Crescent Moon is special to me, in the same way the Full Moon is to the Moon worshiper of every stripe and denomination currently practiced. This is a three days, or nights event; just like the Full Moon and the day before and after.
Though the Crescent Moon is not just the phase of the Moon, as one may have assumed; it is also a part of the suit worn at this very special festival. This is a thigh-high boot. Like high heels, but without the heel; only with the delicately rounded soul, in the image of an Equine hoof. Even if others may prefer the cloven hoof of the Bovine or Cervine denomination.
To some, this is a most solemn night; to some, it is a frenetic festival. To me, and my kind; this is a very special occasion. While the Crescent Moon is technically seen twice a month, the Festival is only celebrated once a year, on the first Crescent moon directly following upon the Spring Equinox. This is in the Spring, and not the Harvest Moon. It may never occur in either the Red or the Blue Moon.
The Red, or blue Moon: Blood Moon, is a deeply dark omen, to us and thus feared above all. Just as the Blue Moon is a dark omen of hard times and sorrow. The Yellow Moon, or Sun Tide is an omen of great joy and profound fortune.
The calendar is promising a Yellow Moon to be on high.
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I am wearing my black cotton daytime panties and matching brassier. Furthermore, I have slipped into my full-length toe-stockings and matching gloves to honour the day of the festival, as required of this very festive occasion.
While it may be acceptable to show skin, but these skin-tone garments still enhance my experience and feels smooth. Gloves and stockings is a set, not two separate items. Just like the boots, my gloves comes with the Equine likeness; miniature hooves, in place of my effeminate beauty of human nails. I wear them, in order to honour the Deity on this very special night.
If I had a Companion; he, or she would wear these gloves just as I wear mine.
Naturally, I am wearing a skin-tight, golden yellow knee-long skirt and matching blouse on this night. Tradition demands it out of me. I am just buttoning up the blouse, before I am looking up; closing the door of my wardrobe, before I turn to face the festival.
I can not eat, during the festival; I have already buttoned up my blouse and thus sealed away my appetite and lust for food. The fast is not long, just the few hours.
I am walking over the floor of my room, extending my right hand; pressing the palm of my hand and spread my fingers wide, thus opening the door and walk out of the room. Walking over to the door to the cloaking room, repeating the process of opening the door with my right hand fully extended once more.
The door quietly slides shut behind me, just as I had cleared the threshold. Just as always, I do not even notice the door closing behind me.
Once in the cloaking room, I pull out the festival mask and put it onto my face; feeling it eagerly sliding over my skin and touching my lips. For a brief moment, I feel the slippery wetness of the mask covering my face; before the sensation evaporates and leaves me with nothing more than the new sensitivity, of my new second skin. Curiously enough, I sense the scent of excitement on the air; confirming my excitement, brought on by the moment of the festival that is upon me. My ears twitch, momentarily; before zooming in on the noises around me, permitting me to focus more precisely on the sounds of interest over the noises of my surroundings. Maybe this is part of the excitement, but it is something I have always been enjoying each year. Maybe, just maybe; this is what I am looking forwards to the most, yearning for this special freedom of the festival. I had chosen my denomination, for the aspect and what it is offering me in person.
Why shouldn't I be looking forwards to this? Why shouldn't it excite me? I can not say, because it excites me far too much for me to even consider these questions.
Now I had extracted the promised ears, slipping them into place onto the top of my head; guiding a few strands of my bangs back over the sides of my ears; hiding what they are and forcing them to blend into my mane.
I lift up my right foot, as I pick up the right boot; slipping my foot into it, feeling how eagerly it is swallowing my foot. As I set the foot, or hoof down; the boot is fully on, leaving me with the half-finished look. Only for me to repeat the process of slipping on the second, left boot.
Now I am standing on my own two hooves.
No, I had never been into the notion of the Unicorn; more than I had been into the image of the Pegasus. Why?
Even if I may enjoy the image of the purity, the power to manipulate my surroundings and casting spells. Just as I can still understand it, if you enjoy the freedom of flight. Yet, neither spoke to me. It still doesn't. This simply is not me, simple as that.
I never tried either. However, I have heard the tales of my friends; explaining the experience to me, even to this day. It just is not me. Even if you don't feel the wings, as anything other than natural extensions of your body, as if you had been born with them.
I still do feel the wind in my mane, as the frisky breeze is trying to tease me as best it can.
All I have to do, is to go out of my home; stepping out the door, closing it behind me. While I do go out each and every day, this is special to me; because only today, can I truly feel the equine spirit flowing through my veins. Only today. Yes, only today is the equine spirit free to take hold of me. This is the festival, where the spirit is liberated, when I can be myself as I see fit.
I am rejoicing, already; before I have even opened the door.
As I open the door, I feel the breeze flowing through my mane. The hairs on the back of my neck is standing, in excitement; as I step out, before I am closing the door behind myself.
Once the door is closed behind me, I am free to roam the streets.
“Clip, clop; clip, clop..” is heard, as I move across the path from the door and all the way out to the fence around the garden of my home.
I am enjoying the touch of the hard surface of the stone tiles on my way across the path out through my garden. Each glistering black stone one foot square. Naturally, I had chosen these stones with deliberate care; both for the smooth black surface, and the hard surface upon which I am placing my hooves on my way as I walk. I could have done nothing else, as I could accept nothing less.
These stones are hot, under my hooves as I continue to walk; leaving a trace of distinct clopping noises, in my wake. Such delightful, delicate noises I can barely contain myself. The sound of freedom, I can hear but this one night of the year. The sounds I have been yearning for, all year long.
How could you refuse me this? Who could possibly?
This was my choice and I am standing by it. I am still enjoying the sounds of my hooves just as much today, as I did the first time I was graced by the chance the first time.
How could I be denied? Why? By whom?
Just as I am reaching the fence, I am turning to the right.
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I had turned to the south, as I entered the street my home is bordering.
Had I turned around, looking where I had just walked; I would have seen the marks of my steps, in the form of the bright yellow Crescent Moons along the path I follow. The path is to remain, for the duration of the festival. Only to vanish, as the moon goes down on the following day, and the spell is broken.
I enjoy the blessing offered, for as long as it is afforded.
On the sacred day, or night of the Festival; there is no Tomorrow, no Regret.
Only once this festival is at an end, the day after; is there a tomorrow, and option of regret. Not that this is why I enjoy and celebrate the festival.
Why worry? Why bother? There is no tomorrow. Just as there is no yesterday.
There is but this one instant, the here and now. The joy and the excitement.
Who needs anything more? Or, anything else?
“Clip, clop; clip, clop..” is heard, as I continue down the street.
I can clearly see everything before me. Yet, I can see nothing behind me.
There is no looking back. I am looking forwards, as the breeze is playing in my mane.
The path is laid with the black stone-tiles; leaving me with the frisky; “Clip, clop; clip, clop.” as I continue down the street.
Jolly neighs are greeting me; as I continue down the street, due south as intended.
Friends, all friends; under the bright light of the Crescent Moon.
The Festival is still in full force.
I am content, as I am enjoying the moment. What else is there? What else, indeed. I do not know, I can't fathom the concept. I can not even make myself consider the possibility, even if I wanted to. I do not. It's sacrilege.
You simply do not consider these things. Not tonight, under the bright light of the Crescent Moon.
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“Clip clop, clip clop, clip clop..” is heard, as I continue trotting down the street, stepping on the black pavement.
The moon is high in the sky, gracing me and everyone else with the yellow glow of the crescent. The crescent blade; that cuts through time and space, granting the gift of this very moment.
On this very occasion, there are no stars, and the sun is not in sight.
Friends are heard, as well as the warm noises of friendly shatter all around. One is not alone, on this night. None is alone, it is not permitted. How? Why?
There is a tranquil sense of companions close by.
The air is warm, frisky; a warm, friendly breeze caressing my skin as I continue on my way down the path.
My belly full, despite not having a single bite since I left my home; content, with the moment within which I am kept.
I feel muscles contracting, skin stretching. How could I not? Yet, it is the blessing, the bliss of the moment. This is all there is. What more could be desired or wished for? Nothing. Not right now.
Tomorrow. But, there is no tomorrow. Just today, tonight; this very instant.
I had chosen my denomination. I chose to acquire the garb, just as I chose to step out. It is my choice.
I love this moment, for all it is worth. For as long as it may last.
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“Clip clop, clip clop; clip clop, clip clop..” is heard, as the moment is lasting.
Of course it is a sunny day with a frisky breeze; never mind it was chilly or smeltering the other night.
I continue down the street, following the path of the Crescent Moon; carefree, not a care in the world.
Each step taking me forwards, as I continue; chatting with friends I meet in the moment, just enjoying myself.
The Crescent Moon is under a favourable light, the positive Omen of Fortunes and Success.
Distance is covered, friends are greeted and chatted with, fun and good time is had. Oblivious, I continue forwards. Everyone continue. Everything continues.
As the time is up, I notice I had reached the end of the path; I can see my home, as I continue further down the path of the Festival.
As I reach my home, I take off on the path leaving the Street for my Home; walking up to the door, opening it, entering my home.
As I close the door behind myself, the spell lingers for but a moment; weakening, as the door is closed; weakening with each part of the suit of the Festival removed from my body.
I had known it, all along; this moment was bound to come and claim me, taking me back. There is no escaping it, fate can not be denied. Yet, I still put my faith in the promise of the Festival.
Even if it is nothing more than a reprieve from the inevitable; I had chosen to dedicate myself to the Festival and all it stands to offer. Maybe, it is just borrowed time; but I can not deny what I gain, even if it is just a few hours of blissful joy in the moment. Its effects holding me up, leaving me stronger in the time ahead.
If I can hold on to the positivity, the joy of the Moment; I remain stronger because of it, leaving me capable, more capable to deal with the life I am living.
I had chosen to leave the Boots of the Crescent Moon on for last. Not that it would have made any difference really.
Once I had slipped the boots off of my feet, putting my bare feet back onto the floor, the spell is finally broken. I am tired, but happy. The Festival had been a complete and utter Success, for me. Just as I imagine, it had been for everyone else participating. Why wouldn’t it?
I have no idea. I do not even care to know. I am just revelling in the joy I had just had.
Maybe this Festival could be compared with a Party, drinking with Friends; but I will not have a Hangover, tomorrow. No cleaning up. I am fresh as a Daisy, as I wake up. I have always been, and thus imagine I always will be.
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The story works like a charm, playing out like a dream. Not quite like the regular book walking, but is still enjoyable to experience
And just like a dream, it slowly fades and blurs out; permitting me to return to the land of the living, still remembering the entire adventure as if I had experience it in the flesh.
I sit, where I had been sitting; as I was starting to read the book, as the adventure claimed me. It is almost, like an Isekai, aside from me being returned to my own body.
“Whoa!” I exclaim, closing my mouth as I am coming back to myself.
I had been the girl, for the duration of the entire adventure; experiencing everything, as if I had been her.
I recall what had happened, every last tiny minute sensory perception. Not just the images and the words, but how she felt and what she had thought in the moment of the event taking place.
Guess I had known this all along; since it isn't exactly the first chapter, of the book.
The book is already closed, as I am exiting the book. Just like the previous chapter of the adventure.
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