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Read after Blood Moon 007
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The first part of a story from a book of local folklore, found in the back room of the Silent Pines Library.
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There was once a little boy with golden hair who lived in a valley where the sun was always shining.
The boy longed to play in the warm sunlight, but his father always told him that he must keep inside because it was too dangerous. The boy didn’t like to stay in the house, because it was dark and cold. His parents never lit the fire and they had long ago thrown out the candles.
“Why can’t I go out into the light, father?” he asked.
“Because where there’s light, there’s also shadow,” his father replied. The boy didn’t understand this, but he obeyed his father because he didn’t want to make him angry.
One day, the boy was playing with his favorite doll near an open window. He often did this so that he could look out into the sunny yard below. As he walked his dolly’s feet along the sunlit sill, however, a raven suddenly flew at him with flapping wings and harsh shrieks. Terrified, the boy dropped his dear toy and shut the window fast.
The bird stayed at the window for what felt like forever, pecking at the glass and beating its wings. The boy cowered out of sight behind his father’s armchair until all was quiet once more.
When he pressed his little face to the window pane, he could see his doll below in the yard. It was too far down for him to reach out and pull the toy back inside. He thought perhaps his mother and father might fetch the doll, but his father was always chiding him for not taking care of his things. And there was not a single feather to show that the raven had ever been there.
Quickly and quietly, the boy crept through the house and down to the front door. He knew that he oughtn’t go outside, but he would be fast. The doll was a special toy and very important to him. He couldn’t leave it out there and let it think it had been forgotten.
Without incident, the boy stepped blinking into the sun and crossed the yard to where the toy lay. As he knelt to pick it up, he heard a sound behind him.
When he whirled around, clutching the doll to his chest, he found himself face-to-face with another boy just his size. The other boy seemed equally as surprised to see him. In fact, the more the boy looked, the more he realized that the other boy was just alike him. Except for his hair; his hair was black as night.
“Hello,” said the golden-haired boy.
“Hello,” the dark-haired boy answered. “What are you doing here?”
“I came to save my dolly.” The golden boy held the toy up for his new friend to see. “Do you want to see her?”
The boy knew that he should be going back inside. But this other boy was the first child his own age that he had ever seen, and his little heart longed for a friend of flesh and blood rather than one of wood and cloth.
The dark-haired boy held out his hand.
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