Prologue: Smithe
Eight years since the death of Captain Flynn Blackwell
The sand between Smithe’s teeth was insufferable. The old pirate ran his tongue through his mouth attempting to wash away the grainy sensation; yet more wind blew, and more sand filled every crevice of his body. Everything was gritty and dry. The entire crew was covered in it. Tiny grains of sand rubbed together between his fingers and toes, drying out his skin; toughening his aged body even further.
Smithe tried to get used to it like he had gotten used to the grease in his beard and the gunpowder under his nails; yet the terrible sand persisted. The crew had been riding through the desert an entire day now, and as the sun set over the dunes of Faithhallow, Smithe grew weary. The donkey beneath him certainly grew weary, too; but the two of them trudged on into the desert’s orange sunset behind the rest of the crew. Bloody neverending mission, the old pirate thought.
“There! On the horizon!” Yelled the young Captain, Julian. Smithe looked up, squinting into the orange light, attempting to see through the fog of the sandy horizon. The outline of a tower climbing into the sky stood far in the distance.
“Ride on men!” The dark haired Captain said, trotting forward. Smithe watched as the crew members each gave their donkeys a kick to move forth. He nodded to the blonde Quartermaster, and gave a knowing smile to the Healer; whose braids were speckled with sand. The crew of the Sea Dragon had been bouncing between cities in the Southern Empire for months, bribing merchants and priests and faeries for information; and now, scouring the desert. After failing their mission what felt like hundreds of times, Captain Blackwell had drunkenly decided that what the crew needed was a Seer. Rare thing finding a Seer in the age of men, but Smithe knew better than to argue with the Captain; for he had spent the past eight years watching Julian search for answers.
As he rode through the dusky desert, Smithe wondered to himself if they would ever find the answers to what was written on that damned tablet.
The pirates had whispered amongst themselves for years.
“Why does he still carry that thing around?”
“Can’t we just sell it for silver?”
“Do you think it might be cursed?”
Once again, Smithe knew better. He was old enough to remember the day that Captain Flynn Blackwell had fished the amethyst tablet out of the sea on the shores of Tarride and showed it to his wife and their little boy with delight. He was certainly old enough to remember the day that Flynn Blackwell had been killed by the royal guard of Rivermoor; and the days after that spent comforting and feeding little Julian, newfound Captain of the Sea Dragon. Ever since then the boy Captain kept the tablet close.
Smithe wiped his brow of sweat and sand, looking up to the pale tower in the middle of the desert. The famed Lonai, order of the Seers of the South. It was just as beautiful as the tales had said it would be; an ivory stone tower climbing high into the clouds, engraved with swirls and forms that looked like sand on the wind itself. A faerietale come to life. Captain Blackwell swung himself off his donkey, and instructed his men to share some of their water with the creatures. Smithe dismounted with less grace, sipped warm water, then shared some with his mount; and waddled over towards the front of the crew.
“I wonder what his plan is now?” Bellamy, the ship’s Healer said as he brushed sand from his trousers. Smithe shrugged in silence.
Lawrence, the ship’s Quartermaster, shook sand from his shirt and laughed, “I figure it’ll be the same as always. Act alone now, tell us later.” He winked.
Smithe shook his head, “The boy has his ways, but he got us to the Lonai. Many men could only dream of such marvels.” When the donkeys had been watered, and the sand sufficiently shaken off the crew, Julian commanded them to wait outside, adding that if he took too long, Lawrence should be the one to come look for him.
The young Captain unsheathed his sword, uncertain of what lay beyond the doors to the pale Seer’s tower. With his free hand, he reached into his satchel and fiddled around. Since Smithe had known the boy forever, he knew Julian was running his fingers over the engravings on the tablet. He always did so when he needed comfort. Smithe looked Julian in his deep eyes, framed by his dark hair glowing in the orange light of the sunset. Julian caught the old pirate’s eye and gave him a slight smile and a wink, before turning around and pushing open the bellowing stone doors of the Lonai. Within seconds, the young Captain Blackwell had disappeared into the darkness of the famed desert tower; and all that was left to do was wait.
The crew waited in silence, passing around a pipe of greenleaf to quell their minds as they worried for their Captain. Finally, under a dusky purple sky, Julian exited the tower; a look of confusion and frustration on his face.
Cries of relief from the crew sprang out,
“He did it!” young Lonnie cried.
“What happened?” asked Lawrence.
Bellamy approached the Captain, “Did you find the Seers?”
The crew crowded around Captain Blackwell while the donkeys rested on the dunes. Julian sighed, then stalked over to Elchin, the ship’s white bearded cartographer; and whispered something in his ear. The old mapmaker silently fished out a scroll from his bag, passing it to the Captain.
Julian unravelled the large scroll of parchment, staring at the map with pensive eyes, “It would seem the Seers believe we are in the wrong corner of the world.”
A few groans were heard from the crew, but Julian just looked back down to the map. He ran a finger from the bottom corner of the parchment to the middle of the map a few times, “I will admit, I had it all wrong.” The Captain mumbled. He flipped the parchment around. It was a sun bleached map of the entirety of Atlatia, all twelve Isles, painted in coloured ink.
“We must get ourselves back to Faithhallow immediately,” he placed his finger over the market port city on the southern tip of the Isle, “Then, we sail.” He moved his finger onto the turquoise of the Southern sea, dragging it up to the pale blue Sea of Kings.
“For the sake of the holy eight Cap’n, what did they tell you in there?” Smithe blurted.
Julian paused with his finger on the central most Isle of Atlatia, the crescent shaped island in the centre of the world.
“It matters not what they told me, Smithey old friend. We are going to the Moon Isle.”
Part One: The Blood Moon
Chapter 1: Julian
Once again we have set course for a new frontier, sailing the salty Southern Sea, for what is a man without a great adventure on his horizon?
-Journals of Captain Flynn Blackwell
Scalding water exploded from all sides of the ship, spraying the crew with something that smelled of brine and rot. Julian knew it would cost him, approaching the Moon Isle from the East; but the arrogance of a Pirate is a flame not easily snuffed out by logic. Julian’s cheeks burned as hot water and tiny shards of rock shot up from every direction. He smiled in the face of the explosions. After all, he had just spent weeks sailing nearly half the world’s oceans; a few blasts from the sea wouldn’t be his end. Tiny shards of sea stone hit the sails, crashing onto the deck like hail. Violent bursts of water and heat erupted on either side of The Sea Dragon, beginning and ending in the ocean’s chaotic drumbeat. He knew he would live, for this ship had seen him through countless attacks, and storms so deadly they could have been waged by the Gods. The weight of the stone in his satchel tugged at his shoulder, and Julian glanced down at its purple glow through a tear in the leather. The explosions endured; and Julian squinted, steering.
Julian cleared his throat, “All men above deck now!” he yelled.
A flash of blonde hair whizzed by, “More hands starboard, men! All hands on deck!” Lawrence’s voice reeked of exhaustion.
The rest of the crewmembers of the Sea Dragon shuffled to their posts, some gulping down what may have been their last sips of brandy; if not for the Captains eternal luck. Julian took a deep breath, wiped the saltwater from his face, and licked his lips hoping to rid his tongue of the tang of rum.
The sea-torn men scrambled to their posts and viciously adjusted their ropes and sails, in hopes of surviving the wrath of the waters of Lunadira. The explosions persisted.
“Aye men, there will be no rum in the darkness of the briny deep, work with your backs and pray that the sea god lets you see another day.” Julian said with a smile far too relaxed for the situation he was in. A chunk of rock flew by him as his face was greeted with water that struck like fire.
“Perhaps the gods are angry with us,” Lawrence said as he unraveled a crumpled map from his pocket, “I believe we are crossing Morgannons Canyon, Captain.”
Julian paused and lazily wiped his brow of seawater, he hadn’t planned for the myths of the moon isle to be true. The Sea Dragon and her crew now passed through an area of godlike creation, a canyon deep below full of gigantic sea volcanoes. He remembered the story of Morgannons Canyon, the deep sea valley of exploding volcanoes created by the Sea God. Julian scanned the explosions, continuing to steer; watching his men struggle along.
When Julian had strolled into the city of Faithhallow and found the Seers order in the desert, a strange cloaked woman had told him, “travel to the Great Crescent, for there you may find the eldest of them all. What was once bound in greed, can only be unbound by love. There you will find what you seek.” It sounded as much like a Seers truth as an herb induced hallucination; though Julian had believed he was right to heed her advice, until the gods forged death volcanoes.
As he steered through the explosions, Julian pondered the last eight years, wondering if perhaps his father had sent him on a fool’s errand with his last breaths. He ran a finger over the engraved tablet in his satchel. The crystal tablet made of amethyst, covered in its tiny swirled markings; had been found after a storm, a distant fifty years ago. Perhaps it really was a curse. The tale of his fathers discovery was his favourite story as a child. On the rocks of the Isle of Tarride, Captain Flynn Blackwell of the Sea Dragon emerged from historically colossal waves, and stumbled upon a crystal plate of Amethyst engraved with ancient markings in the language of the gods. The Captain took it for himself, as any proper pirate might upon finding such a treasure. After the Sea Dragons departure from Tarrides shores, the Captain and his crew only befell foul luck on a handful of occasions. Some said the Captain had been blessed by the tablet. Some called it magic. It was now a tale known amongst Pirates who were raised by Pirates, though the story did not truly end at this joyous revelation, he reminded himself; for Captain Flynn Blackwell’s luck ran out the day he was killed.
Julian realized he was staring at the bloodstained wooden deck below him; an ugly reminder of how the story went. He steered on, and the explosions grew distant.
“Ahoy, port’s ahead as the crow flies!” Surely as Lawrence had said, about a mile ahead of the Sea Dragon was the famed, crescent shaped island of Lunadira.
Julian continued to steer ahead into the Aquamarine shallows, every gust of wind brushing his face echoing his fathers words, “I know you can find its meaning, my boy. Uncover its mysteries, and bring it back to where it belongs.”
As Julian brushed off the memory, a giant golden pink fishtail, the size of a shark, splashed in the shallows below. It sparkled so brightly the shine was blinding. He smiled, thinking of his fathers favourite folktales, and looked to his right forearm; the once fresh siren tattoo now faded and green, speckled with sun and hair and scars. As the giant fish took to the depths, the voices of merchants and sailors got louder. The Sea Dragon was approaching port.
Dead Man’s Bay, Seafarers be warned, was painted in red on a wooden sign nailed to the beach; and as they got closer to the docks, Julian understood why. The shallows of the beach were littered with the bones of sailors.
Julian steered towards Dead Mans Bay, the bustling port ahead. The ships surrounding them were mostly those of pirates, with tattered flags and battle worn hulls framing the cove. Smaller skiffs were always in these kinds of ports too, and as always on the Isles of Kings, some royal ships dotted the docks nearest what was clearly the nicer part of town. Merchants unloaded cases of wine and silks onto the docks, while common men traded silver for stock. As they anchored and took in the heavy smells of fresh fish, ale and burning herbs, Julian addressed the crew.
“Aye men, we have reached Lunadira at last!” a resounding cheer was heard. “We may now indulge in the lands finest,” Julian gestured to the bustling town of colorful buildings, “the city of Mirrenorre.” The continuous whooping from the Sea Dragons men got louder, and Julian cleared his throat “This visit will be unusual in nature. Law breaking is not encouraged, and will be met with repercussions.” The cheering turned into a silent confusion.
An echo of argumentative retorts came from the crew, “That’s not fair!” whined Lonnie, the crew’s youngest.
Margrund, the red haired master of arms, grumbled, “Does he seriously expect us to pay for things?”
Julian laughed to himself, then stepped forward, and silence fell.
“Men, we are here on a mission, I shall see no antics until that mission is complete. If we can pull this off we’ll take two weeks vacation in Straida Saluna.” Some crewmembers nodded. “We will pay for everything with silver, and we will be kind to barmaids, merchants, courtesans, and innkeeps.” Many “Aye’s” were heard from the crew. “Now that we have understood each other, let us go fill our bellies as I scout the mission. Welcome to Lunadira.”
The pirates dispersed to tend to their effects. Julian watched as Bellamy, the ship’s healer, ruffled Lawrence’s blond hair and kissed his cheek. At least some of the crew is happy, he thought..
While the men collected their belongings and filed onto the docks, Smithe, the Sea Dragons oldest crewmember, began lecturing the Captain.
“Ya know, boy, Flynn wouldn’t want ya to waste your days. Gods be with ya, don’t overdo it young Blackwell.”
Julian adjusted his hat, “Smithey, you remember a few years back, in the Sea Lord’s tavern, when everyone took the vote?”
The old man nodded, exposing the bald patch on his head of grays, “Course I remember, Cap’n.”
Julian tossed Smithe a gold coin, which he caught, “Those pirates didn’t vote for a man who breaks the code, did they?” Smithe silently shook his head.
“I won’t have my promises to my Captain be forgotten in vain so I might waste my life stumbling from tavern to brothel.” Julian said.
The old pirate laughed, “You’re the Captain, lad.”
Julian gave a wry smile, “I may be your Captain, but you know who my Captain is and will always be.” Julian tapped on the amethyst tablet in his satchel.
Smithe shook his head, “Stubborn. Like your mother. You could at least try to do something for yourself while we’re here. Perhaps commission a new sword. I hear Lunadiran metalsmiths are quite impressive.” Smithe winked, picked up his guns, and waddled off the ship’s deck onto the docks of Mirrenorre.
Perhaps a new sword was just what Julian needed. He needed something to dedicate himself to that wasn’t this God’s damned tablet, and a shiny new sword would work just fine.
As he stepped off the docks of Dead Mans Bay and into the cobbled and colourful City of Mirrenorre, Julian felt a shred of hope that this city, this island might finally be the one to rid him of that cursed tablet of old; and finally bring honor to his father. Perhaps he could finally redeem himself. Perhaps he could be worthy of being called the Pirate King.
Arms around one another, Lawrence and Bellamy led the crew onto a stone road surrounded by a square of pastel stone buildings, lopsided and crooked in their nature; dappled with rusty roofs. Julian walked beside them.
Lawrence nudged Julian in the side, “With all due respect— Captain, what is the plan?”
Julian paused a moment, then cleared his throat, “Keep open ears about anything related to the old gods. Anything ancient. Texts, maps. We might seek the royal archives.” Lawrence nodded and mumbled something to himself.
The townspeople eyed the pirate crew as they passed, assessing which type of trouble they might be. The people of Mirrenorre were dressed in robes of jewel tones, all manner of hats and boots, frilled lace skirts and leather corsets paired with hats like those worn by pirates. An odd ton. Lawrence looked toward him with a sly grin, acknowledging the oddity of the place. Julian knew that look, the blonde pirate was about to do something utterly stupid.
Lawrence held out his arm to halt the path of the crew, and cocked his head to the curious onlookers, “The Pirate King has arrived in Lunadira.”
Chapter Two: Caspia
Beneath the aquamarine waters surrounding the moon Isle, there lies a dormant world of myth. Cavernous deep sea trenches, sparkling crystal caves, lush green rivers, freezing glacial gulfs; and a giant blooming coral reef.
-Investigating Atlatian Faerietales, Vol 1: Sirens
by Prof. A. Bayne
The Aquadora reef was filled with sunlight on the morning of the Blood Moon. It was the rainbow of the ocean, sparkling brighter than anything she had ever seen. Caspia weaved through giant Venus sea fans and tube coral longer than her own body, moving through the reef as an extension of itself. Her shimmering golden tail swam rapidly, reflecting the colours of the reef; a flash of pink and gold sparkles in the light. A pod of angelfish followed her, taking every twist and turn she did. Funny little social fish, she thought.
Caspia swam quickly, knowing that if she was late to meet her sister she would have to go to the surface alone. The mornings of full moons were always the best time to watch ships. She tore through an alley of orange coral, past a pod of stingrays floating southwards. Tiny purple fish with yellow fins circled the soft coral, playing hiding games with each other. Mira is probably waiting by now, she thought.
Caspia turned past bushes of gorgonian fans flecked with green and violet, wondering if she would get to see any humans at the surface. As she weaved through the Aquadora and its endless colors, she saw nereids of the reef greeting her on her way. Tails of teal, green, gold and pink dappled the water; all sparkling like rare jewels.
Caspia sat on a kelpy rock before turning down the sun coral quarter, her long dark curls floated around her face in spirals. She admired the colours of the reef, thinking about how the older sirens often spoke of the coral being even brighter before humans lived on the island. It was hard to imagine a time before the humans.
“What’s got Caspia rushing this time? Moondust days are for comfort.” a shrill voice taunted from behind her. Leira, a nereid from the brain coral quarter swam around her; bright red hair swirling around Caspias dark curls. Her pale green tail sparkled gold in the sunlight.
“I’m meeting Mira for practice.” Caspia said.
Leira raised a thin brow, “You’re always headed somewhere. Where’s practice today?”
Leira seemed to always have questions, and Caspia had grown used to providing half answers. “The drop off.” she replied nonchalantly.
Leira’s green eyes widened, her face even paler than usual. “Why would you go to the drop off for practice?” Leira shook her head and fiddled with her pearls.
Caspia shrugged, “Sometimes the reef gets boring. We won’t go too far.”
Leira rolled her eyes, “Try not to be late; you know how the ancients get. And you don’t want to miss your favorite part of the month.”
Caspias’ gaze flitted up to the dolphin pod playing above them, “I’ll see you later, on time, at Morgannon’s temple.” Caspia swam off as she spoke the words, past the purple oyster beds and the golden Trident of Mora; then, she turned into the sun coral quarter.
The colors of the sun coral danced in the light, reflecting orange and pink flecks into the water like tiny dancing crystals. Caspia spotted her grotto at the edge of the reef and swam through the slim opening to enter the sea cave. Inside the grotto, Mira was perched atop an orange coral shelf, her deep turquoise tail shimmered with glints of gold.
“There you are.” Mira said as she brushed through dark crimson curls with her hands, her golden brown skin glowed in the sunlight of the reef. When she saw her sister, Caspia understood why men sang songs of the beauty of sirens.
“Happy Full Moon, Sister.” Caspia said, a grin on her face, “Are you ready to see the surface again? What has it been, six full moons since you’ve joined me?”
Mira rolled her eyes, “I wish it were more. You know what those men can do, you should fear them more.” Mira rose from her seat atop the reef, and swam down to the ledge near Caspia, “I will come with you today,” she paused for a moment, then smiled, “because you are the most foolish siren I’ve ever known!”
Caspia beamed with a smile and shot towards Mira with a hug “Oh thank the Kraken sister! I promise we will remain unseen.” A pod of angelfish swam around them.
Mira looked at Caspia with severity in her eyes, “One ship. That’s all. Then we return for the moondust procession. You understand? One visit up.”
Caspia nodded “I understand, sister.”
Mira patted her shoulder, and swam to the top of the coral shelves, gesturing Caspia towards the grotto’s exit and the blue expanse past the reef, “Let’s get this over with.”
The sisters swam through the rocky pass out of their coral cave, and they were on the edge of the reef. Engulfed by a deep blue, the sisters shot through the water, following a path of starfish to the edge of the Southern Isles. The sisters stopped at the edge of the drop off, catching their strength on the edge of the rocky cliff that was leagues deep. Caspia stared into the blue-black abyss, the territory of the Oceanids; sirens of the deep. Far in the distance were the bright blasts of the Calathai Volcanoes; a blaze of orange in the dark blue expanse.
Caspia looked at her sister, who watched the glowing explosions with unease, “Are you ready?” She gave Mira a smile.
Mira looked doubtfully upwards, then sighed. “Let’s go.”
They raced to the surface and stopped just below the joining of sea and air; when Caspia spotted a ship above, being thrown around by the explosions of the sea Volcanoes. It looked like a tiny rock being tossed around in a storm’s waves; helpless. When the ship was freed from the valley of volcanoes, the sisters shot upwards and plunged out of the sea into the air of the surface; blinded by sunlight.
The sirens shielded their eyes of the bright light, and for a moment when all was white the sisters heard a man with a strange voice scream “Men you may thank your Captain for his skill at the helm, and the sea god for sparing ya— we’ve made it out of Morgannons Canyon alive.”
The blinding light faded and she saw Mira beside her, gawking at the ship before them. When Caspia looked up she saw what may have been the most magnificent human creation she had yet to behold. The ship was giant, made of various woods, covered in barnacles and seaweed at the base with giant sails in various shades of plum, amber, and rusty tones. The ship’s sails were like coral come to life on the wind.
There were men of young and old aboard, all celebrating the victory they had just seen. Caspia thought she had never seen a ship so beautiful, but the true beauty of it was the wooden sea dragon carved into the front. Painted in hues of green and gold, the dragon was framed by a swath of letters, and in the tongue of men was written ‘The Sea Dragon’
She looked to Mira, who was whispering to herself, “Do these men really worship the gods? What would they know of the sea god? Do they know of the creatures amongst them, or is it simply a foolish joke?”
Caspia pointed to the dragon carving, “Their ship is called the sea dragon.” She pointed to the man with pale yellow hair, “He just thanked the sea god. Perhaps they worship the same gods we do.”
Mira shook her head and scoffed, “We don’t worship them Cas, they made us. Don’t be so naive.”
The ship sailed forth, headed for the city the King of Men had established years before Caspia and Mira’s birth. The humans called it ‘Mirrenorre’ she had once heard. It was said that before humans arrived at the Crescent, sirens lived in all waters surrounding it, moving freely around the island. Caspia wondered what it was like to swim in a sea unmarked by barriers. As she swam towards the forbidden territory, Caspia pushed the tales of sirens killed by men from her mind; and swam for the wooden Sea Dragon.
When she surfaced again, she heard the sound of human voices speaking over one another, men with accents of all different Isles, and waves lapping against wood.
“I think we’ve seen enough Cas, let’s go home.” Mira’s voice shook. Caspia saw the fear in her sister’s deep blue eyes. These weren’t just any men, they were pirates.
“I just want to get a bit closer.” she said. Before Mira could respond, Caspia dove towards the ship. As she surfaced, she heard the voice of another man. She popped her head up to an opening in a lowered section of the ship, where a smaller boat was tied up, and pushed herself upwards, peeking her head through the opening. If the look of their ship wasn’t enough, she knew who they were from their clothing. Their heavy coats were lined with weapons, and they had jewelry adorned fingers with compass necklaces dangling between the openings of their airy tops. Some of them carried two swords, some with a strap of knives across their chests; the picture of pirates as she knew them. The embodiment of danger.
One of the pirates stepped forth, a serious looking man with a sad sparkle in his eye.
“Aye men, we have made it to the Isle of Lunadira.” The men rejoiced in a loud cheer. The man speaking had hair dark like her own, and sunkissed skin covered in strange inky markings; but there was a harsh beauty about him.
Mira surfaced beside her, popping her head up “You need to get down from there now Cas. You’ve gone too far! Remember the laws of the ancients.”
“Please just another moment… Can I meet you at the dropoff?” Caspia pleaded.
Mira shook her head, “I will wait for no longer than a few moments when I reach the cliff.” Caspia smiled. Mira rolled her eyes, and dove into the water.
Caspia returned to scanning the deck of the ship, noticing the golden haired pirate from before speaking to the dark haired man. He was taller than the golden haired pirate, taller than most of the crew; he watched them work from a wheel at the back of the ship. Around his mouth and jaw, short hairs pushed through his skin. There was even hair across his chest too, peeking through his willowy shirt. She couldn’t look away from him. The dark haired pirate nodded as his friend spoke into his ear, and then spoke back. It looked as if his crew had seen a rough journey, they were all a bit burnt from the sun; but the dark haired man was still striking somehow. Not magically beautiful in the way sirens were, but certainly not ugly in the way pirates were meant to be.
While she clung to the side of the ship, they had drifted into the port, and Caspia was surrounded by the smell of humans and dead fish. After the dark haired pirate had given a speech, the golden haired pirate addressed the crew,
“Your captain wishes you to be on your very best behaviour. You’d do best to remember that.” The dark haired pirate was their captain.
Then, the Captain spoke, “Men, we are on a mission, and I will see none of our usual antics until our mission is complete. Is this understood?”
In front of the ledge from which she watched, a boot stepped, then another. Caspia had never been so close to a human; she thought if she got a bit closer she could almost touch the pirate without him noticing. What am I thinking? What would Mira think? She had been foolish staying above for this long, and soon the procession of the Moondust would begin. She stole a final glance of the dark haired Captain, and slowly sank underneath the water.
She looked around her at the underneath of all the ships in the port, wondering where their sailors had come from; and why they docked at the Great Crescent. Without another thought, Caspia began racing towards her sister at the dropoff.
She shot past the beach of bones, racing through the southern waters surrounded by tiny bubbles. She caught herself not far from the drop offs edge, spotting her sister in the distance. Caspia was grateful for what she had in the sea, on the reef. She was grateful for Mira, for the powers of a siren, for their friends back at the Aquadora; for all of it. A simple and beautiful life, resigned to the great blue sea; and treated to a night on land once every full moon.
