The Resurrection


The old priest sighed a deep, tired sigh, his wrinkled hands tightly clutching a hastily 
written note.  He took a moment to remove his glasses, rubbing the bridge of his nose to 
relieve the weariness he knew would never truly leave him.  The war had taken so many 
lives...and now it had taken another.  "So many," he whispered to an empty room.  
Shaking his head to banish the memories of losses past, he read the note again.

"Luna dead.  Prepare her replacement immediately."

Sighing again, the priest slowly got to his feet, grimacing at the aches and pains of old 
age.  Leaving his office, he made his way down the halls of the monastery, and stopped in 
front of an old oak door.  He paused briefly to prepare himself for what had to be done, 
then shook his head sadly and knocked on the door.

"Just a minute!" answered a cheerful female voice.  Moments later, an attractive elven 
girl opened the door and smiled brightly.  "Father Eriksson!  What can I do for you, 
Father?"  Her smile slowly faded as she looked at the priest – the note in his hand, the 
slight tremor in his arm, the look of pity and sadness in his eyes.  She knew what he had 
come for.

"I'm so sorry, child," he said wearily, "but one of your Sisterhood has fallen in battle, 
and...it is your turn to—"

"—to do my duty," she replied despondently.  "I know, Father.  I will do my duty, like 
those before me and those who will follow after."  She looked back at the small room 
where she had spent so much of her time.  Her favorite books, the plants she lovingly 
cared for, everything that made her unique and special.  She would miss that – the 
knowing that she was different.  "I won't...need anything, will I?"

The priest shook his head.  "No, Nadia.  Everything will be provided."  She nodded, then 
followed him down the hallway.  She hesitated at the door of the chapel, then gathered 
her courage and crossed the threshold.  A large, ornately decorated circle, a focus for 
great and powerful magic, dominated the room.  Nadia looked at the circle, then glanced 
back at the priest.  He nodded silently, beckoning for her to step into the circle.  Walking 
into the center, she trembled slight as she waited for him to begin the ritual.

Many seconds passed in silence as the priest summoned the arcane energies he needed.  
When he finally spoke, his voice boomed across the chamber.

"Nadia Rayner, of the Sisterhood of the Moon Rider!  One of your brethren has fallen in 
battle, and you have been called upon to continue the conflict in her place.  To carry out 
this demanding task, you will take her form and mind as your own.  You will BECOME 
Luna Moonfang, so that our enemies will never know that she died.  You will be Nadia 
Rayner no longer, but Luna Moonfang until the end of your days!"  He paused to catch 
his breath before continuing.  "Have you any last words, before I begin the ritual?"

Nadia stood quietly for a few moments before speaking.  "Father?"

"Yes, child?" he asked, the magical volume in his voice gone.

The girl looked over her shoulder at the priest, a thin stream of tears running down her 
cheeks.  "Will...will you have someone water my plants after I'm gone?"

The priest smiled sadly.  "Yes, Nadia.  I'll have Anna do it."

Nadia smiled back.  "That sounds...good.  Anna always liked my flowers."  She turned 
away, wiping the tears from her face.  "I'm ready," she said, her voice shaky.

The priest gazed at the girl with heartfelt pity, then raised his arm and began to speak the 
ancient words of magic.  Nadia gasped as the magic pushed its way into her, changing her 
body from the inside out.  Memories of other girl entered her mind, overwhelming her 
weak resistance.  A soundless scream burst from her lips as she REMEMBERED

The ambush
The sound of blood pumping in her ears
The macabre grins on the faces of her opponents
The pain of a dozen deadly spells assaulting her flesh
The triumphant cries of her foes
The feel of the earth beneath her as life ebbed away
DEATH

And then she collapsed on the floor, retching and shaking convulsively.  The priest 
lowered his arms slowly, the ritual complete.  "And so it is done," he said quietly.  
Walking over to the girl, he kneeled beside her.  "How do you feel, Luna?"

Luna took a few deep, wheezing breaths before she could talk.  "I've...felt better," she 
replied with a weak smile.  Her expression quickly changed to one of rage, and she 
slammed her fist on the marble floor.  "Damn them!  How DARE they eat my corpse?!  
They'll PAY for that!"  She grinned fiercely as she got to her feet.  "They'll be sorry, 
next time I run into them alone!"

"Indeed, my Lady," said the priest as Luna helped him up.

Luna stretched, then sighed happily.  "Ah well, I guess I shouldn't complain.  I'm a little 
weak, but it's better than being dead!  Whatever it is you do really works wonders!"

The priest nodded wearily, then turned away.  He wished he could tell her how the ritual 
really worked, and what sacrifices had to be made...but would she fight again, knowing 
the cost?  His superiors would not let him take that risk, so the secret would remain as 
such.  His burden was one of many untold stories of the Great War, and deep in his heart, 
the old man wondered if he would ever find peace.