Calixto looked at Talon in confusion. He was taunting him with a smirk, knowing that he got played by his own doing. He kept on repeating what he said in his head before a long-forgotten memory flashed in front of his eyes.
It was the first full moon of autumn. He had asked—more like demanded that they walked outside, complaining that he was being cooped up in the library.
The image of that night slowly takes shape in his head. How funny it was that once the brain knew what memory was, it slowly built an image from memory for him to remember.
But then, he wondered how he could forget.
The moon that night was shyly hiding behind the clump of clouds hanging low in the night sky. The night breeze was cool in the sky as they walked off the pathway, behind the tall trees outside the castle walls, away from any probing eyes.