Blood Moon

by The_Darker_Fonts

Chapter 32: The Name

Hemorrhage’s vision was fuzzy as he slowly blinked awake, a pounding headache and strange soreness to his neck greeting him from his unexpected nap. Growling softly, memories rushing back to him as he regained his senses, he blinked hard as he pushed himself off the cavern floor. He felt paws on his back, trying to gently push him back to the ground while muddled noises he knew was somebody’s voice encouraged him to lie back down. Still too disoriented to hear exactly what was said, he ignored it and pushed himself up all the way, shaky legs holding him upright regardless. Finally standing, he shook himself out completely in an attempt to force his senses into working through the amnesia.

“... and now you’re going to be pissed, but you gotta understand,” Ailade’s voice came into focus. Suppressing the rage he felt at the mare for deceiving him momentarily, he simply glared her into silence. Her mouth sealed shut and her eyes momentarily darted away in shame, but not regret. He would have to deal with her later, because at the moment he could vividly hear Joint’s ragged breathing. Whipping around to the center of the cave- he found he had been dragged away from Joint while unconscious- he swiftly and carefully moved to the mare’s side.

When he arrived, however, he found that he was no longer staring at a mare. Joint was curled into a ball, her back to him, exposing a new, raw piece of her that he hadn’t been around to help her grow. Her wings, long and crooked, one awkwardly stretched out toward the ceiling of the cavern and the other curved and halfway tucked around her. He stared at them with wide eyes, taking in every detail of them. The fur on them was matted with blood and new veins bulged irregularly as they attempted to fuel even newer muscles with precious oxygen. Hemorrhage paused, jaw dropping slightly in abject horror at what the transformation had done to Joint, even knowing this was what would happen.

He couldn’t stand to see her, the one he loved more than life, brought to such a gruesome and dark fate by his own fangs, even knowing logically it wasn’t his own fault. Even then, logically, if he had never wanted to hurt her, he should have removed himself from her to prevent any chance. His eyes took in the glistening of her blood, perhaps the last pony blood she would ever bleed, or perhaps the fresh, nocturnal blood that would be coursing through her veins. His throat tightening, he collapsed back on his haunches with a heartbroken sob, tearing his eyes away from Joint’s new, bloody, beautiful wings.

She was one of them now, more specifically a mordigan, the most powerful and monstrous of the creatures of the night. Her body, frail but unbreakable as it had once been, was now gone, almost completely replaced by the terrible damnation of nocturnalism. They were both paying for his half-hearted efforts at protecting Joint, and… he couldn’t stop thinking about how beautiful that new, terrible, incredible body was.

Something about her transformation completed his emotions for her, no longer in love with prey, but with an equal. It conflicted with the grief he felt for helping destroy the pony he had been in love with, only serving to rend his heart even more. Before he could control himself, another sob escaped him as tears began to freely flow, the waves of shame overtaking him. Ailade didn’t dare attempt to comfort him this time, and in fact it seemed like he and Joint were the only ones left in the cavern. Anger surging, one of his sobs turned into a roar of rage as he whirled and slashed his claws across the nearby cavern wall, sending shards of stone flying every which way.

Breaking down once again, he couldn’t help but glance at Joint for another terrible look of the changed mare. It was then that he noticed the most distressing detail. Not inches from her bloodied muzzle lied a small, broken set of bones he could smell were equine.

“Luna damn me,” he cried into the ceiling as he dropped to the ground in grief. His claws dug into the earth as he writhed in agony, his heartbreak physically tearing him apart as well. She had become a monster and a cannibal now. The fact tore him open like a sword disemboweling him, and with another howl of sorrow, he shouted to the darkness, “Damn my soul! Tartarus, consume me now!”

Running out of breath, he collapsed to the floor with shaky sobs, face pressed into the cold, wet stone. The pain of it all overwhelmed him again and he resigned himself to this disgraceful torment, the culmination of his complete failure. His eyes squeezed shut and all he could hear were his own shaky sobs that echoed like a mocking chant of his grief. His heart seemed to be on the brink of collapse, his ribs aching and his stomach burning like a fire had been lit in it. At the moment, he wished for nothing more than to have never met the mare, to prevent her from reaching this damned fate.

“Hemorrhage,” a voice suddenly asked, a voice he could almost recognize but wasn’t the same as Joint’s. It was soft and weakened by pain and exhaustion, yet silky and musically strong. Her new voice.

The mordigan froze completely in disbelief, the ringing of her magical new voice in the cavern stilling his heart. He didn’t know how to react, instantly in love with her all over again yet still heartbroken that she was different now. His limbs refused to move and he couldn’t force sound out of his mouth as he lay on the cold stone floor, stuck between wondrous awe and terrible remorse. Joint grunted as he heard her suddenly begin moving, straining as she tried to force her new body to work.

Listening to her struggle, Hemorrhage was torn from his self-loathing as he swiftly stood and rushed to her side. Her wings had spread to their full length and were now brushing the roof of the cavern wall, temporarily distracting him with their magnificence. However, shaking himself out of his awe, he reached out and gently pressed Joint back to the ground, trying to keep her from hurting herself by accident.

“It’s okay, Joint, you’re okay now, the worst of it is over,” he assured her softly, unable to hide the shakiness of his voice. Joint struggled for a moment before giving into his insistent guidance, letting herself lie on the floor to rest.

Then, she looked up at him, and he was in love all over again.

Her face was nothing like a pony’s at all in her mordigan form, the sharp, sleekness of her fur and pointed, distinguished features of her more canine head enticing on a primal level. His breath was practically knocked out of him from her cutting brown eyes, altered in a way he could only describe as dangerous. The mare was a predator now, her sharp eyes, keen senses, and larger, sleeker build all enhancing his attraction to her beyond words. She stared at him as well, the two of them taking in her newness, before suddenly the mare lunged forward.

He opened his mouth to let out a cry of surprise when suddenly her tongue wrapped around his and her body was wrapping around him. She practically tackled him to the ground, lips locked, desperately making out with the confused mordigan. He could only reciprocate as she hungrily, almost savagely kept him in strong, determined grip. Even with the wind knocked out of him from the fall, he managed to resist complete suffocation. Her wings held him to her while one of her paws reached up and cupped his head, her new claws prickling the skin underneath his thick fur. She stared deeply into his eyes the entire time, no longer blinded by darkness, and even though she was new, he could see that she was still, mostly, Joint.

Giving in to her affectionate, hungry embrace, he full-heartedly reciprocated, the primality of his love finally being like him and her sudden attack leaving him defenseless. He brought one of his paws to the base of her wings while the other gently racked the fur of her chest. Her other paw suddenly pressed against his chest as she leaned heavily into him, squeezing the air from his chest. Hemorrhage’s breathing picked up as the carnality of the situation and lack of air combined into an exciting frenzy of emotion. She was ravenous, seemingly able to go on forever, but he needed to take a breath.

Carefully, he pushed her back far enough that he could gasp for some air, a smile creeping across his face as he did so. She gazed at him with blazing intensity, her nocturnal eyes sharply watching him like two silver moons. He was breathless and wordless, unable to do anything but stare at the beautiful mordigan who stared back at him.

“Is this what it was always like when I was around you,” she asked, her paw softly moving its way to his chin.

“I’ll admit, it wasn’t nearly so bad as it is now,” he chuckled softly, feeling blissfully foolish. “You were beautiful before, but now, you’re…”

He didn’t get to finish what he was trying to say as she stole another deep, passionate kiss from him, humming softly into his mouth as she did so. This time, he was more prepared, and with some soft tugging, pulled her all the way into a tight hug of his own. Her new wings felt spectacular wrapped around him, and even though he was still larger than her in his own mordigan form, he no longer worried the hug would hurt her. He noticed the way she tasted now, no longer equine, but exotically familiar, finally equal in nature. Meant to be. After several long seconds, she pulled away, planting one last kiss on his cheek as she did so.

“I love you,” she whispered, resting her head against his and letting out a happy sigh. His own heart could barely keep up with the excitement and passion he felt, and his brain had already completely checked out. Smiling dumbly, he simply responded by nuzzling her back, preventing himself from taking any further action with her.

Suddenly, she sat up and looked around the cavern, as if remembering that there might be others around. Seeing there wasn’t, she let out a sigh of relief, looking back down at Hemorrhage, her paws on his chest keeping him willingly pinned down. Brow furrowing slightly, she asked him, “Where’s Amethyst?”

“With Ailade and the others, I think,” he told her, also looking around briefly to see if any of the others had returned. Feeling a coldness in his chest, he added, “I wasn’t awake when you grew your wings. Ailade used cyanide.”

“Cyanide,” the mare shouted, her outraged voice echoing in the cavern.

“For us nocturnals it’s the equivalent of a sedative,” he quickly explained, her new mordigan territorialism showing. It soothed her a little, causing her to look back down at him as she asked, “Why did you need to knock you out?”

“For my own good, I guess,” Hemorrhage reluctantly grumbled. “I’m guessing she didn’t want me to see the worst part of your transformation.”

“Because you would blame yourself for it,” the mare finished with a knowing smile. Relaxing, she lay down atop him, muzzle just millimeters from his own, hot breath and her powerful, alluring scent filling his nose. “Good mare.”

“Really,” he questioned, raising a brow.

“It’s what I would’ve had her do,” she replied slyly, moving just enough to give a peck on his lips. He blushed at her playfulness, his heart thumping so hard she probably felt it. Her tail swished as it brushed the ground, telling him just how much she enjoyed toying with him like this.

“It was still irresponsible to incapacitate me like that and try to take care of something they had no clue how to deal with,” he defensively told her. “What if something had gone wrong and they needed-”

Once again, he was interrupted by a quick peck from the mare, stopping him completely and whipping his brain. Blinking at her, he told her, “You can’t just kiss me into submission.”

“I’d reckon I could,” she replied suavely, before giving him yet another quick kiss. However, a more somber look overtook her as she quietly thought of something. Her tail stopped swishing and Hemorrhage felt a slow anxiety growing in his chest. All of the love they had just shared had kept the thoughts of before away, but now he began feeling that terrible dread and regret again. The adrenaline of a new body was wearing off, and now she would surely begin realizing the magnitude of her transition.

“Hemorrhage, I heard what you were… saying, earlier,” she softly informed him, scooting up so that her eyes were level with his. “I heard you crying, your… your heartbreak at me becoming… a mordigan. Why?”

A lump formed in Hemorrhage’s throat instantly, and he shamefully glanced away, the regret within him crescendoing back into his heart. However, before it could bring him to tears again, she reached out a paw and slowly brought his eyes back to hers. They were silver now, as perfect and sharp as the moon on a clear night, and in them he only found concern and love.

“I didn’t want this to be your fate,” he whispered, his voice raspy from emotion. “I wanted you to live and die like a normal pony would, without ever having to deal with the damnation of being a nocturnal. The eternity of loneliness spent consuming flesh, struggling with others of your kind, never able to live a peaceful life.”

“I guess you haven’t realized yet,” she muttered into his ear, “but maybe eternity wouldn’t be so lonely if I was a part of it.”

The mordigan’s eyes slowly began to widen, a realization so simple it made him feel stupid dawning on him. The worst part about eternity was the loneliness it could bring, yet…

“Are you saying that… you would want to stay with me,” he shyly asked.

“Sweet Celestia, I didn’t go through all of this for nothing,” she softly exclaimed, giving him a playful punch in the chest. “You really didn’t think too deeply into the benefits of me becoming a mordigan, did you?”

“No… I guess I didn’t want to allow myself the thought of even if,” he admitted ashamedly. “I…”

“You’re welcome,” the new nocturnal proudly stated, nuzzling her cheek against his. She seemed to yearn for physical attention, and he frankly couldn’t blame her for it. Nature now allowed for them to be together without bounds, and the strange drawing together of their souls now that they had found their match had amplified his mental and physical attraction to her. He had to try his absolute hardest not to just dive in for another kiss or more while staring at her new, beautiful face.

Unfortunately, he knew there were more important matters that needed to be dealt with though, now that his wonderful soulmate had safely transitioned, even without his help. The night was probably waxing late at this time, and given it had started with bloodshed and ended in… this, he couldn’t even predict what the day would be like. Still, something about knowing the mordigan who lay atop him was no longer the frail, if indomitable, mare who had arrived in ruins at his coven’s castle gave him new confidence. She was stronger now and more capable, and that made him stronger. A surge of assurance coursed through him, prompting him to begin moving, picking her up as he stood, pressing his lips on hers. He didn’t push for anything more, just letting himself give her a tame expression of his love for her.

Letting her go once he was standing, he parted and told her sheepishly, “I’ve been a very, very stupid stallion.”

“And I’ve been a stubborn mare,” she replied wryly. Her cheerfulness once again faded as a look of consideration overtook her, her brows beginning to furrow in quiet contemplation. He waited patiently for her to tell him what she was thinking, instinctively knowing she would, and he didn’t have to wait long.

“I no longer feel like that mare anymore,” she whispered, clearly confused by her own statement. “I’m Joint, I know I am, but at the same time, I feel like more than just Joint. I have the experience of my pony life, but now the new body of a… mordigan… I feel fresh and different. I can’t quite explain it.”

“I couldn’t either,” Hemorrhage told her softly. “My master told me that I was new to the world, wiser and more dangerous than before. So she gave me a new name as well, one to match the long life of killing and learning I would have.”

“Hemorrhage,” she breathed softly, in realization. Her silver eyes scanned his face for a long moment, intense and sharp as they had been ever since she had awoken. Finally, she quietly asked, “Are you going to do the same for me?”

“Only if you want me to,” he assured her.

A glint of determination in her trusting eyes, she stated, “I do.”

The words rang like a song in the cavern, in spite of the softness with which they were spoken. Hemorrhage set his jaw, giving the mare a thorough look. For some reason, be it instinctual, divine, or supernatural, he already knew exactly the name he wanted to give her. It captured the mordigan who had been the mare Joint Point as perfectly as spoken words could. It gave her a moniker of the night, of her own strength, volition, and insurmountable will, yet also accentuated her gentle lovingness as well. It was a name for both a young mother, hardy soldier, and cunning nocturnal, a name for her.

Pressing one last kiss against her lips, he pulled back and hushly muttered, “Moonsilver.”

Author's Note:

Awwwww, happy fuzzies. Anyways, questions, comments, and concerns welcome and wanted.