1. Introductions and Epilogue

Tears From the Moon takes place a year or so before my other fic Center of the Sun. You do not have to read the other to understand this one, but I hope that you do. This is an AU fiction, and will contain violence, and adult themes.

-This is set in the futuristic England after World War III, when nations are still trying to recover, and it's very clear the New World Order is a failure. Instead of pioneering through the future—nations have reverted backward. Being different is a sin, and people are killed for less. Just like in Nazi Germany if you were not a 'Perfect' being, you were considered an outcast, and killed in the streets.

-In retaliation a group of outcasts are in the process of banding together for a rebellion, which takes place in Center of the Sun, but this story just elaborates on Jem's story. Without giving away too much, Jem's sickness wasn't something he was born with, nor an addiction. You will see where he gets it, and what it is.

I, in no way shape or form own any of the characters of this story, they all belong to Cassandra Clare. I am not a professional writer, and your reviews are like gold to me. They mean a lot, and I hope you write them! ^.^

Song of the Fic:

http:/www. youtube. com/watch?v=RZuj2v1_68k&feature=related

Tears From the Moon

Couldn't sleep so I went out walking

Thinking about you and hearing us talking

And all the things I should have said

Echo now, inside my head

I feel something falling from the sky

I'm so sad I made the angels cry

Tears from the moon

Fall down like rain

I reach for you

I reach in vain

Tears from the moon, tears from the moon...

It just ain't fair, this thing called loving

When ones still there and the other feels nothing

I would have done anything for you

I still love you, baby I adore you

All day I keep from falling apart

But at night when the sky gets dark

Tears from the moon

Fall down like rain

I reach for you

I reach in vain

Stop, stop haunting me

It should be easy

As easy as when you stopped wanting me

Tears from the moon

Fall down like rain

I reach for you

I reach in vain

Tears from the moon

Fall down like rain

But tears from the moon

Can't wash away the pain

Tears from the moon, tears from the moon...

~Tears from the Moon, by Conjure One


Wudang Mountains, China

Full moon rising; rising over misty mountains, where the wind would come in gusts to swirl the thin haze of clouds towards the heavens as if God's fingers brushed the horizon lovingly. She was His greatest creation, and when the gentle breeze, like laughter, would drift through the valleys along a silver river, He could be reminded again of why He loved this world so much.

Despite the destruction and turmoil His nations were in there was still some peace left in humanity. All of the Eastern countries had been untouched by war, and coexisted together with a bond that nations could envy. Where the future had been unkind to the Americas, and the United Kingdom fell divided; China reverted back to ways almost medieval, but still they survived. Food was grown again, on soil so rich that there had been very little need of market value for even the grain traded as much as gold in some countries, and with that it afforded even the smallest of farmers a life of luxury. However, still none lived above any other. All were painted equal in the eye of their

A sensitive plant in a garden grew, And the young winds fed it with silver dew,

And it opened its fan-like leaves to the light, And closed them beneath the kisses of night.

~Percy Bysshe Shelley, "The Sensitive Plant," 1820

"He is so beautiful, My Lady, a child of the moon." The nursemaid spoke to her Lady who held her infant son, while bare feet moved over polished marble floor in an estate that appeared to be more of the mountain then a home. Everything was built around the world that was there first, and even the floor broke in places to trees to continue their lives—untouched.

"He has his father's hands," The Lady smiled back. Her son, no more than a few hours, shared the coloring of the pale moon, and had come into the world silent. Even then Jian wished only to watch as he met his mother face to face for the first time with eyes the color of snow. In ancient times it had been an omen of goodwill, and this silent child had already been sworn to smile. His temperament would someday make him King should those times ever come again.

"Perhaps then he will be a healer too, M'lady, like his Father?" Jem had been so patient with his first feeding, waiting even then for his mother to rest, and dreaming blissfully of things he could not understand—things he would never remember.

"It would bring great honor if he would follow in his father's footsteps; just so long as they do not lead him far from me." She smiled, touching the brow of her beloved son, and thought of the husband who had gone to fight in a war that was not their own. She knew then and there she would never let Jian go.

James had been born English, but at the turn of the century his family had fled to China in hopes of starting over. "I just wish he could have been here to see the birth of our son." Her words were almost bitter, but cradling the infant she enjoyed the way the breeze swept through the open windows to cool her warm skin; it made her feel home again.

"He will return soon. You shall see." All of the staff held onto hope as if it were all that was left in the world, but it had been months since the man of the household had been heard from; even now they started to wonder. The war was almost over, and some soldiers were returning to their families. However, every night when the telephone rang they held their breath waiting for that one lone voice on the other end to confirm the fear that welled up inside them like a sickness.

The phone broke the silence causing both mother and child to jump at its impulsive tone while laughter followed through the room of the baby's first reflex. "Go get that, Misu, tell them first thing of the good news." With a smile the nursemaid went out into the hall taking all the noise with her as she closed the door, and there they were left alone forming a bond unable to ever be broken.

"Sweet child, painted by the moon. We have wanted you for so long." Her words were gentle with love abound, and sweetly then she kissed his brow while he still didn't make a sound. Her laughter painted her cheeks with a soft rose-colored blush while filling the void of silence, as her amusement with her son could not be contained. "They say that you can feel what I feel, do you little Jem feel as happy as I?"

The infant almost acted as if he would laugh looking up to the beauty that was his mother. He did feel her, and he loved her. Her long ebony hair outlined her soft, round, face, but it was thin slanted eyes that seemed hardly able to contain her smile. He loved her already, and nothing could take away this moment, not even if winter had returned to freeze them all in place. However, when the door would open once again all the warmth of the darling spring was stolen as the Nursemaid held the phone to her chest while her eyes misted with unshed tears.

The sorrow upon her brow could not have been a mistake, and the Lady felt her arms grow stiff as her heart stopped. Jem watched his mother shake her head, and whimpered with pains he could not understand as uncontrolled tears pelted his face.


The full moon hanging over the horizon suddenly didn't seem as willing to laugh, and her bright pale light dimmed as she too wept into the night.