Harvest Moon Grey Novels & Stories

The largest moon I’ve ever seen in my life. The harvest moon, of course, hence the name of the festival. “What’s on the agenda tonight? Are they cutting our arms off this time?” “Misty told me you were dropped on your head as a baby, and I believe her,” she quips, glaring at me, her eyes full of moonlight. “And no, we’re not being flayed open this time. But…”

She knew where everything was and what to do as she cut into her pancakes. “Oh, Liam,” Lily shook her head. “Think of it this way. It’s your last year that you absolutely have to do this. After all, we’re seniors now. We might as well enjoy it, because this time, we’re going to be kicking our feet up in Auburn U, huh?”

Everything seemed calm and composed, the beauty of the night. Running my fingers in my hair, I rested my back on the resting chair. My eyes automatically went to the moon. In the darkness of midnight, the night sky was scenic. A black to navy gradient was the backdrop for a harvest moon; the night sky was so clear. The moon, a glowing bluish, loomed large, surrounded by a whitish mixed glow. The moon is not perfect yet it's an example of beauty.

I spot Marlene and the little boy amongst them and call out their names. “Luna! Come, come see the corn we’re growing!” they call out excitedly. I turn to Ryder who smiles at me. Then, together, we walk hand in hand towards the crowd and join them in the harvest. EPILOGUE It is a full moon and the moonlight shines brightly on a clear still pond in the deep forest. The soft moonlight bathes all that it touches in a soft haunting glow. But the light from the moon pales in comparison to the bright shining orb in the middle of the pond.

Haley Crescent Moon is by far bigger than Red Moon. It even has it’s own little grocery store. The boys are excited as we drive by stores and an arcade. When we pull up to the pack house, my jaw drops. It’s grander than Red Moon’s house. It’s an antebellum style home that is two stories tall, three if you count what looks like a sun room at the very top. It has gorgeous white square shaped columns that wrap around the whole house with a wrap around porch on the first and second floor.

They aren’t exactly extinct but they go out of their way to keep to themselves. “Here, this is the pack. Harvest Moon,” River says, bringing a large book to my table. I push to my feet and carefully brush away some dust on the cover as I take in the crest. It’s a reddish rust colored moon, with three wolves howling around it. One, matches the color of the moon.

And I will be there, every step of the way. “You will,” I promise. “And when that day comes, you’ll be ready.” .... That evening, the moon rises full and golden over the festival grounds, casting a soft glow on the faces of my pack. Laughter rings out, children dance with garlands in their hair, and the scent of roasted meat and sweet wine fills the air. The Harvest Moon is sacred to us, it’s when we give thanks for survival, for family, for love that endures. I stand before them all, my people, my warriors, my family. And for once, I don’t speak as the Alpha commanding attention, but as a man who’s lived, lost, and found his way again.

The air smelled of iron and burnt rain. Kaelen stirred in the wreckage, his breath rasping against the cold. A thin layer of ash blanketed the valley like snow, gray against the hollow silver light that poured from the ruined sky. Every breath stung. The Harvest Moon—once swollen and crimson—hung dull and colorless above, a pale coin surrounded by ragged clouds.

There were plenty stars and the moon shown so brightly, it illuminated the field ahead quite well. Running my hands over my arms, I shivered lightly. The weather has been really cold recently. And since I don't have a lots of options of clothes to pick from, I make do with what I have. Even if it was wearing two tattered clothes together, I did. But, it does nothing to hide the coldness I was feeling.

Among them, I spot Hayley beside Corey, both flanked by their parents. Mrs. Brown sits at the edge of the row with her youngest son, while Corey and Hayley sit in the middle, happily munching on snacks. To their right is Mrs. Anderson and… Mr. Anderson. The distinct silver-gray color of his hair—a shared hue with Hayley’s—is the first thing I recognize about him. Since coming back to Greystone, he’s one of the few people from my childhood I haven’t run into. Then again, Hayley always said he was gone most of the time.