For all those of you just starting now, I recommend that you read the first of the Saga, 'The Black Moon Dragon'. this is the second story that I have written in this universe, and everything will make more sense if you read that first. if you are one of my loyal readers who has been waiting for this sequel, I give you 'The Ghost and Shadow Moons'. second installment to the Saga of the Moons. I hope you enjoy what I have written and I cannot wait to see how this story unfolds.

Now, onto the prologue...

The gigantic ship was cold. Frigid like ice. The sparse lamps down the hallway of the brig did nothing to make it much warmer or brighter. Shadows ghosted down the hall while the sound of crashing waves slammed the outside of the hull. The boat rocked on the uneven swell, making it hard for anything not secured down to stay in the one spot.

The terrified guard slowly inched down the darkened corridor of the pirate ship, a dirty canvas sack secured to his hip, a lantern in his left hand and a sword in the other. Armed as he was, he was terrified. With his heart pounding away inside his chest, he made his way over to the most secure cell at the bottom of the boat.

Even if the prisoner never made a move against his captors, the crew were terrified that he would snap at them and fall into a fit of rage. He never said anything, did as he was instructed, but they feared him like they would fear a volatile and untamed animal.

The guard came to the heavy iron door separating the prisoner from himself, and he shakily grabbed the keys from his belt. The lantern was placed on a hook so he could keep the sword in his hand as an item of reassurance.

With a loud creak, the door swung open to expose the ghostly area within. And there he was. A human figure crouched in the centre of the room, shackled and secured to the walls and floor with the thickest chains they had. Around his waist was an iron band, bolted to the floor with two short chains. His wrists and ankles were covered in spiked shackles and they too were secured to the floor with chains.

But the most terrifying restraint had to be the collar around his neck. Made of toughened leather and iron, and fitted with five padlocks and thick chains to the walls around him. Two chains spaned the space to the guard's immediate left and right on the wall that kept him closed off from the rest of the ship. Two more chains were attached to the walls on either side of the prisoner, and the final one, the thickest and strongest of all, was resting slack against the back wall.

All five chains kept him stranded in the middle of the disgusting cell. The prisoner himself had skin so white, that when they captured him, they thought he was a ghost. By the light of the lantern, his pale skin glowed with a deathly sheen to it, but the rise and fall of his scared and muscular chest reassured the guard that he was still very much alive.

The young man's long and ragged black hair hid his face from view, and almost obstructed the leather and iron muzzle securing his mouth shut. The item was actually unnecessary, but the crew sought to put it on him for their own safety.

Shakily, the guard stepped into the cell, his sword outstretched towards the figure. The prisoner made no move against him, or any move at all. As instructed, the guard walked behind him, under all the chains and reached out for the muzzle around his face. After some fumbling around in the dark, the offending garment fell free from his face. The jailer froze in horror as the captive made a sudden move, a large gulp of air like he had been stuffed in a room of stale and rotting air. The air of the cell was still not much better, but to him it must have been like the fresh air of a morning breeze. The guard relaxed as he realised that the semi naked man in front of him was just taking large breaths.

Next came the hard bit. The chain secured to the back wall had to be removed. The keys rattled against the metal of the lock and collar as he worked to undo it. Finally, the chain came free. One less chain securing him, one less restriction to whip his head around and break the other chains.

But the prisoner didn't move at all. The jailer stepped around the figure and stood in front of him, sword pointed right at his face, while his other hand fumbled for the drawstring of the dirty sack secured at his hip. The bag finally came free and fell on the floor with a thump, and not wanting to get any closer to those exposed teeth and fangs, he kicked the bag towards him.

Now, the ghostly humanoid figure moved. Unhindered by the heavy chain he was able to lower his head towards the offering, and with his teeth alone, he ripped the bag open. Offcuts of raw meat and fish were exposed to him, from the crew's last meal no doubt. Without complaint, or any word said, the prisoner began to devour the raw and bloodied meat. His fangs tore through the offered flesh like a hungry lion, and his powerful jaws splintered any bone attached to the meat. In under five minutes, every scrap had been eaten, and his lips licked clean of blood. The creature growled appreciatively at the offering.

Shaking like a leaf in front of the carnivore, the jailer stepped forward to grab the torn sack, as well as the muzzle. He froze as he caught sight of the prisoner's eyes. A glowing and eerie silver, even in the dim light.

In fear, the jailer stepped back with the muzzle in hand, and quickly moved behind him to secure it over his face again. He never wanted to see the horror that was his eyes, or the sickening glint of fangs too long to sit normally in a human's mouth.

Swiftly, the guard fitted the muzzle back on, and locked the chain to the collar again so he couldn't move. The prisoner still made no move or sound, and it was scaring him, so as soon as his job was done, the man bolted out of the room and shut the door with a slam and the click of a lock.

Back inside the high security cell, the humanoid figure growled to himself. He was cold, uncomfortable, sick, weak and still hungry. It was far too soon to make an escape, and he couldn't as long as all those chains kept him locked up on the floor.

He knew, deep in his heart that the time was coming, for he had a vision, a dream that told him the future. A full moon, a winged shadow across the sky, blue fire and screams, then… freedom. He would patiently wait for that time, for his winged rescuer he was sure would come for him. The one his dream called the Shadow in the Night, the Living Shadow of Darkness. It would come to set him free, and when it did, the Ghost of the Dead, and Shadow of Darkness would be reunited to wreak havoc on the world of those who would stand against them.