The Golden Crescent Of The Beloved Moon Hung Peacefully In The Ebony Star Dusted Sky. Here, Alone With

"Hey, pretty girl, ready to go?" I asked as I rubbed my Púca's ears.

She neighed.

I told her before leaving, "Alright, I'll go and you come find me when you're ready, okay?"

I was just leaving when I felt a light hand on my shoulder. Behind me there was a young lady with black hair, a black dress with red accents, but the thing that stood out the most about her were her brilliant red eyes and horse ears that stuck up out of her hair.

"How do I look?" she asked before giving me a slow twirl.

I took her hands in mine, once she stopped, and kissed her cheek, murmuring, "Beautiful, as always." I unclipped my cloak. "You will need to hide your ears, though." I held my cloak out to her.

"Won't you get cold?" she asked, concern lighting her brilliant eyes. How did I get so lucky to get such a caring Púca such as her?

I smiled, "No, I'll be fine."

Hey eyes flickered between my eyes and the cloak before gingerly taking my offered article of clothing.

When she finally had it adjusted with her ears flat against her head, she asked, "Is this good?"

"You look human." I held my arm out to her. "Ready to go?"

My Púca was literally bouncing as she took my arm. She was beaming and just as giddy as a little kid. I looked forward and guided her out into the bustling streets full of people dressed up as monsters and heroes.

The constant clatter of swords and the elegant movement always calmed me. The twirl here and a parry there.

The extra weight of the graceful blade felt like it was natural.

But life can't always be this way can it? Somehow, either you or someone else gets hurt. I guess you can only choose your actions and words carefully to minimize the damage.

I am a mosaic of everyone I have ever known and loved and touched and I find fragments of them in my playlists and how I make my tea. we may not know each other any more but we will stay connected like this. I hope a fragment of me is with you too.

Sunlight rained through the grove. It was a long day and, to be honest, I wanted a nap. There was a stone that was large, flat, and grey, that wasn't too far from me but it was in direct sunlight. Just to test the heat of the rock, I lightly rested my hand against it and instantly recoiled it back. It was way too hot to even consider.

Abandoning the hot rock, I searched for another good place to rest. After a moment, I found one that was completely shaded by a large oak tree and was covered in moss. There was no doubt in my mind that this was the better option.

My messenger bag served as my pillow and my cape as my blanket. It didn't take a long time for me to fall asleep on this rock.

"And you're sure that this will work?" I questioned the tinkers I'd assigned to this position.

"Almost completely certain," the head tinker confirmed. He looked more wisened than the others. If my memory is right, he has been a tinker since he was a lad.

"If it does work," I started as I looked into it's hollow eyes, "it will save many lives."

It looked like the twelve that were already here when I came to power but it held some semblance to some of my brother's, as well.

"It's ready when you are, your majesty," the head tinker said.

"Hour thirteen," I stated with authority, "what do you see?"

The eyes lit up with a hollow orange color as it was activated.

"I see the fall of night," it replied. The wording was odd.

"Does it work?" I turned to the tinker who stood beside me. He was younger than the head tinker, his hair was comforting like the autumn.

"Well, it is dusk. So, I guess it does," he answered me in a meek tone. This tinker worked day and night on how it was supposed to work and behave.

"I'm not allowing it out unless you're sure it works," I told him in a tone that I would use with nightmare victims.

He looked down, still timid.

"Are you sure this works?" I repeated, still as patient as ever.

"Yes, it works," he affirmed, more certain now.

I smiled. There was the spark I was looking for.

"Thank you for your service, Hour Thirteen," I thanked, directing my attention to the waiting clockwork soldier.

"The night will not be long," it said.

I didn't like how empty it sounded but the tinkers told me that as it aged, it would start filling up with moments.

"The night is never very long," I told it. Day always follows night.

A small kid ran into my arms, whimpering.

"What's wrong?" I kept my voice gentle and level. There was something that scared the poor kid and he trusted me enough to run to me with that problem.

"I had a nightmare," he answered as he tried buried his face further into armor.

I took the boy's arms off of me long enough for me to sit before he latched on to my neck.

Rubbing his small back, I asked, "Do you want to talk about it?" If he did, that would give me an idea of exactly what nightmare I would be looking for. If he didn't, I would have to try to find the right one and hope that it wasn't a dream that I was going after.

"I don't know," he whined as he clutched me a bit tighter.

I held him so he could look at me as I started, "Do you not know how to word it?"

He nodded.

I let him go as I stood up. "Well, I don't know which one I'm looking for but I'll do my best." I looked down at him, he couldn't be more than four years old. "Would you like to come?"

His eyes grew wide. "Really?"

I didn't try to stop the smile coming on. No matter the age, the reaction was always the same and it was adorable. I only offer if they aren't able to tell me about the nightmare.

"I don't want to hunt the wrong one and you would recognize it," I answered him.

He almost grew a smile but it died to a concerned look. My brows furrowed.

What was wrong?

"Would I be safe?" the little boy asked me in a small voice.

"It could be dangerous but you would be helping me stop a nightmare from terrorizing anyone else." I crouched to his level again. "However, if you want to go home, I won't think any less of you and thank you for bringing this concern to me."

"If I went to my mommy, would you stop the bad dream?"

I smiled. "Pinkie promise."

"I want to go with you. I want no one else to get any more bad dreams," the brave little boy told me.

"Alright," I said standing up before offering my hand to him, "hold on to my hand and stay by my side at all times. Okay?"

He beamed as he took my hand. "Okay."

Where I'm from, myths have a habit of being true. One such myth is that the moon can grant wishes. People typically make wishes on one particular day but every once in a while, someone makes a wish on a different day.

For that one day, though, it is almost all children who make those wishes. Occasionally, an adult will drum up enough courage to leave a wish for the moon to grant.

The moon does what she can to grant the wishes but she'll only grant the wishes that are pure at heart and for the betterment of the person who wished.

"Is there anyway I can help?" I asked the ever patient moon on one particular night.

"If you have nothing to do, you could stay with me," came her soft whisper. "I like your company."

I chuckled as I sat down beside the alter. "Any interesting wishes?"

"They are all interesting and unique," she answered.

I furrowed my brows. "Don't most of the kids just ask for toys, though?"

"Yes, but those toys help the become someone unique."

Resting my head against the cool stone, I requested of the moon, "Could you explain how?"

Images of a wooden sword flashed across my mind as she answered, "The boy who will get this could become one of your greatest generals." Next, a combination of random metal parts and wooden puzzle pieces appeared in my head. "The one who receives this could be a mechanic that will invent revolutionary equipment." She went on for a few more moments after that.

I couldn't stop the smile or the tears. How could I have been so blind? "That was wonderful. Thank you for explaining that to me."

"It was a pleasure. But promise me one thing."

Even though she wasn't there, I looked up. "Anything."

"Promise me you won't underestimate the value of a gift. Even if it seems insignificant and useless to you, that could be the thing that sets the recipient on the right path for their life."

"I promise."

As to whether the Gavle Goat's consumption should be seen as a good omen or a bad omen, I'd say good. Traditionally the Yule goat is made of straw from the final harvest and as a talisman against hard times, and there are unproven theories that its shape is inspired by Thor's goats, who are constantly killed, eaten, and reborn to provide endless meat for Thor and whatever guests he entertains. Therefore, its use by birds as a food store and safe harbor is an affirmation of its original purpose and truly in the Christmas spirit of generosity in lean times. What's more, the birds eating it seems to be have been the one outcome to unite both goat burners and goat keepers, as they have decided not to scare the birds away from their safe harbor and not to harm the goat, a decision that has been universally lauded.

As omens go, this one's all positive: safety, plenty, and unity between previous ideological opponents through a creative third solution built on shared values (birds being fed and sheltered is a good thing). May more birds find their way to the Gavle Goat next year.

You know, it occurred to me that the whole "commit arson to burn the Gävle goat" vs "save the goat at any cost (to our taxpayers)" thing is basically a match of Yule themed Counter-Strike Sweden plays with itself every year, and every time they update the Wikipedia page to say TERRORISTS WIN the goat was destroyed, the whole world is like