Moonshadow (3 page)

“I’m twice the moon goddess, I know,” she replied, trying her best to feign annoyance with Darien rather than the genuine delight that she felt. He was the first person to ever recognize that her first and last name were both moon deities—Roman and Greek respectively. It had always been Diana’s own private joke. She didn’t even think her parents realized they had done it.

“Of course you are,” he replied with a curious look that came off as condescending. He seemed rather astonished by her, in fact. No doubt he assumed Diana was too stupid to even realize the significance of her own name.

Who does this guy think he is?

She was saved from the growing awkwardness when the door to the classroom suddenly opened and students began to pour out into the hall. When the room was empty, Darien looked to Diana and made an “after you” gesture with his arms, his gentlemanly demeanor feeling like mock courtesy. Once inside, they took seats on the opposite ends of the room and waited for the other students to arrive.

Diana did not once glance in Darien’s direction, even though she couldn’t stop thinking about how patronizing he had been to her.
How are you in this class?
That jerk didn’t think some freshman girl had any business in a graduate level class. Diana would certainly show him who did and didn’t belong in the class. She’d been almost fluent in both German and French by the end of her junior year of high school, and then taught herself Latin last summer.

A total of six other students—all male—had chosen to study Akkadian alongside Diana and Darien. When the professor arrived, he had everyone form a semi-circle out of their desks and sat himself in the middle. Unlike her other instructors, who had turned out to be eccentric caricatures of professors, this one seemed like a normal laid back fellow in his late thirties. As he was wearing a tie with a sweater-jacket, he left Darien being the most dressed up person in the room.

“Well, let’s get started, shall we?” he began. “My name is Luke Rogers and I will be your guide through the Akkadian experience. Before we get down to it, can anyone tell me what he, or she, knows about the language?” He looked down to his class roster a moment. “Miss Selene, care to share?”

“Sure.” Diana didn’t skip a beat. “Akkadian first developed in northern Mesopotamia around 3000 BC. It is one of the oldest known Semitic languages and is written using the Sumerian cuneiform script. When Sargon of Akkad conquered most of the ancient Near East around 2300 BC, Akkadian became the diplomatic language for well over a thousand years, until it was gradually replaced by Aramaic around the time of the Persian Empire.”

Diana’s gaze went to meet Darien’s. His patronizing look of astonished amusement hadn’t changed, only strengthened. When he realized she was looking at him, he quickly turned to the professor.

Diana’s eyes narrowed as her irritation grew.

“Very good” The professor seemed to be impressed. “Let’s get at it then.” Dr. Rogers’ attention was caught by Diana’s cell phone. “Miss Selene, may I borrow that a moment?”

“Sure, but it’s been acting up,” she replied and then handed the professor her phone.

After a quick image search, Dr. Rogers held up the phone to display an ancient clay tablet with various cuneiform wedge marks on it. “While diplomacy is all well and good, the Akkadian language holds many other treasures as well.” A playful smirk crept across his face. “This, my friends, is the world’s first known beer recipe. Perhaps by the end of the semester you’ll all be brewing your own.”

“Can that be the final exam?” asked one of the other students with a laugh.

“We’ll see,” the professor replied as he placed the phone on Darien’s desk for him to look at before passing it on.

Darien quickly jerked his hand away as several sparks erupted from Diana’s phone before it hit the floor with a sound that made her cringe. Her mouth dropped open as she gazed upon the small plume of smoke that began to rise from the cracked screen.

“What the hell happened?” she asked in alarm, running to inspect and gather the remains.

“Your faulty device exploded in my hand,” Darien replied. “You did say it’d been acting up, didn’t you?” He seemed more annoyed than shocked and it drove her absolutely crazy.

She stood up, clenching her hand around the deceased phone. “Yes but—cell phones don’t exactly just shoot sparks out like that.”

Darien just shrugged. “Yours did. We all saw it.”

“Okay, okay,” Dr. Rogers interrupted with a calming gesture. “I’m sorry about your phone Miss Selene. Is it still under warranty?”

“I think so, don’t worry about it.”

Not wishing to keep the fuss going, Diana returned to her seat and let the business of the exploding phone go for the time being in favor of diving into Akkadian.

To her great pleasure, the class period wasn’t devoted to just going over a syllabus and class plan. Towards the end, Dr. Rogers did go over a little of how the class was structured but did not waste too much time on it.

When class was over Diana quickly returned to her room. Exhausted, she collapsed on her bed and looked at the clock—it was only 3:00 in the afternoon. She was going to have way too much time on her hands this semester.

After a half an hour of relaxation, she grew rather bored and decided it was time to finally investigate the library.

Diana walked across the grassy quad, taking in the sites as she made her way to the old stone church. Everyone was out and about playing Frisbee, lying out on the grass, reading or listening to music—it looked more like a beach than a college campus. There was even a group of people grilling food outside of the art center.

Social people always seem so happy
. Diana usually had trouble talking to strangers; she was too awkward. It was going to be worse here, where she had absolutely no comfort zone.
At least I have Lani
. The roommate part turned out to be a lot easier than she had expected.

Passing through the library’s tall, arched, entryway of stone, Diana was overcome by a strange sense of familiarity—like she had just walked into her grandma’s house for the first time in months.

She felt home.

Perhaps it was because Diana was finally in her element, where she belonged—peace and quiet with untold amounts of books all around her. She loved the tranquil nature of libraries; they were her sanctuary. This was one of the most splendid libraries she had ever been in. Within the grand ambience of an elegant stone church, several floors of books, special reading rooms, and various computer labs existed where there had once been shrines, statues, and altars. She’d never even have to leave to eat—there was a small cafe on the ground floor that served coffee, tea, and sandwiches.

At least Lani will know where to find me.

With no particular scholastic destination in mind, Diana investigated the nearby directory map. Many areas looked promising, but her attention was soon caught by the Foxwell Flinders Special Collections Reading Room—it sounded like a treasure trove of wonders.

After passing through mazes of bookshelves and ascending a few spiral stairwells, Diana finally reached her destination. Her mouth agape in awe, she beheld a magnificent, long, open, room with tall stained glass windows and walls lined with shelves containing hundreds of books, many of which looked very old. A few students sat at the round wooden tables in the center, while others enjoyed the comfort of the high-backed leather chairs situated in front of the windows. At the far end of the room stood a white marble statue of a woman veiled in mourning, her outstretched arms searching for a lost loved one. Even though she was veiled, Diana thought the woman’s face seemed terribly familiar.

She tore her gaze from the mesmerizing statue to investigate a large plaque to one side of the entryway. It contained a black-and-white image of A. F. Flinders and a brief history. 

Upon his death, Flinders bequeathed all of his books, acquired artifacts, and other scholarly materials to the university after having laid out an extensive plan for the preservation and redevelopment of the church into a library. It was likely for that reason alone that Flinders University had the best Archaeology program that wasn’t Ivy League. They had spent decades adding to the vast knowledge of Foxwell Flinders and approving upon his methods with more modern practices. Though he was often accused of being an overzealous relic-hunter, Flinders respected methodology and often used scientific deduction during his excavations.

With an academic sense of wonder, Diana scanned the shelves for treasures to read. Passing by rows of dusty excavation reports and sections of studies on alchemy and mysticism, her eye was caught by a hefty brown leather tome entitled
Sacred Chalice & Magnum Opus
by A.F. Flinders—one of the more philosophical writings of the man himself.

Diana took the large book from the shelf and sat down at a nearby table. She ran her hand over the cover, which contained a raised gilded image of a robed woman holding out a cup as if to present the chalice to the reader. In the four corners were a flame, a skull, a tree, and water pouring from a jug.

The book opened with the soft creak of old leather and Diana breathed in the familiar smell of aged paper as she turned the soft, silk-like, pages to the table of contents of red inked titles and black descriptions.

Flinders had compiled everything there was to know about the Holy Grail—the historical, literary, and philosophical aspects of the sacred chalice—and a great deal on what he called the “Great Quest.” 

Diana gently flipped through the pages and scanned several chapters. She hated to admit it—even to herself—but most of the content was extremely philosophical and well above her freshman head. However, she was more than content reading the sections of court poetry and romances.

After a few hours of reveling in the medieval grail quests of the gallant knights Perceval, Gawain, and Galahad, Diana turned to the writings of the Romantic revivalists of the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. 

Diana’s hand froze in place, her eyes transfixed on the title of the piece to which she had turned.

The White Wraith
,
by Charlotte Green.

The page lay before Diana like a mysterious message just arrived from the past. Her great-aunt had written an epic poem about the Holy Grail? Had Grandma Lily known? Surely, she would have read it to Diana quite often had she known of it. What else had Charlotte written?

With a strong sense of pride, Diana read her aunt’s tragically epic tale
of the White Wraith—Guinevere, Arthur’s queen.

Diana marveled at every line. It was unlike any of the familiar stories of Arthur, such as the medieval accounts she had just read. In Charlotte’s version, Guinevere is a powerful sorceress who leads a rebellion against her husband in the wake of his war on the magical kingdom of Avalon. Central to the tale is the Holy Grail—referred to on several occasions as the Chalice of the Moon. All covet the Chalice and want to draw on its powers, but Guinevere secrets the sacred cup away before tragically dying by her own rampant power. Overcome with grief, her beloved—the once gallant knight Lancelot—massacres the people of Camelot before ending his own life.

Several intriguing illustrations accompanied Charlotte’s account, the most captivating being of Guinevere herself. In one particular scene, the mighty queen wields a magic spear in a duel against Arthur and Excalibur while clutching the Chalice of the Moon to her breast. 

The story was amazing; why had she never known of it until now? How did Charlotte’s family not know she’d written epic Arthurian poetry? Although, other than Grandma Lily’s stories of Charlotte and Flinders’ globetrotting adventures, Diana knew next to nothing about her aunt other than that she died of a sudden illness a few years after setting in the States. She’d only been 33 at the time.

Gazing on the image of Guinevere and the Chalice, Diana was filled with an overwhelming desire to know more about her Aunt Charlotte.

“Diana,” called out a girl’s voice, pulling Diana from her thoughts. She tore her eyes from the book to see Lani clutching the side of the table and catching her breath. She seemed a bit hysterical as well.

Diana instinctively shooshed her roommate. “What’s the matter?”

“I’ve been looking all over for you,” she said after muttering curses at the staircases.  “I wanted you to go to dinner with me but it’s already six—probably too late now. We’ll just have to order a pizza.” A smirk crept across Lani’s face. “We have plans for tonight and we have to look our best.”

Diana didn’t like the look in her roommate’s eye. “What do you mean by
plans
?” she asked, very curious yet somewhat afraid.

“I met this amazingly gorgeous guy in my Poli-Sci class earlier,” she answered with enthusiasm. “There’s going to be a huge party at his house tonight and he invited me. He said you could come too.”

Diana cringed inside. She was definitely not into the idea of a bunch of drunken frat boys hitting on her all night; but, for the sake of her only friend, she’d have to endure. It was all part of the college experience anyway, wasn’t it?

She plastered a fake smile on her face and feigned her own enthusiasm. “Sounds like fun, what time are we going?”

“I think he said the party started around eight, but you never want to be the first ones there. I figured we’d go sometime between nine and ten.”