The legend of the Luminescent Buck begins not with a creature of flesh and blood, but with a resonance. A harmonic disturbance detected deep within the Obsidian Peaks, a range perpetually shrouded in a violet mist. This wasn’t merely geological activity; it was a disruption of temporal currents, a bleed-through from what the scholars of Aethelgard termed ‘The Echoing Void.’
For centuries, the peaks emitted a low hum, felt rather than heard, a sensation of profound unease. Then, one cycle of the Crimson Moon, a single buck materialized – not fully formed, but as a coalescing point of light and shadow. Its coat shimmered with an internal luminescence, a shifting palette of blues, greens, and violets, mimicking the swirling mists above. The initial observers, a band of nomadic astrologers led by the eccentric Master Theron, documented this event with frantic precision, attempting to predict its behaviour. Their notes, filled with diagrams of celestial alignments and frantic calculations, suggest the buck’s luminescence pulsed in synchronicity with the movements of three previously unobserved constellations – Lyra’s Whisper, Draco’s Sigh, and Corvus’s Reflection.
It is theorized that the buck’s existence is sustained by this temporal bleed, drawing energy from moments of heightened emotional resonance – particularly regret, longing, and the bittersweet recognition of lost potential.
The Luminescent Buck’s behaviour is… perplexing. It doesn't appear to follow conventional animal instincts. It doesn't graze, doesn't flee from danger, and displays a disconcerting fascination with reflective surfaces – particularly mirrors and polished stone. Furthermore, it has a peculiar habit of ‘collecting’ objects – small, seemingly insignificant items like pebbles, feathers, and fragments of broken glass. These are arranged in intricate patterns around its resting place, often forming complex geometric shapes.
Observations have revealed a startling aversion to direct sunlight. It will actively seek out shaded areas, often disappearing into the deepest recesses of the Obsidian Peaks. It's also been noted that the intensity of its luminescence fluctuates depending on ambient sounds – particularly melancholic melodies played on wind instruments. Theron’s notes detail a specific sequence of notes - a minor pentatonic scale played backwards - that seems to ‘anchor’ the buck, preventing its luminescence from dissipating entirely.
Some scholars believe the buck is not simply *living*, but *remembering* - a repository of lost memories from the Echoing Void, projected through its luminescent form.
The Luminescent Buck’s existence is not eternal. Every seventy-two cycles of the Crimson Moon, its luminescence begins to dim, gradually fading until it vanishes entirely. This ‘dimming’ is accompanied by a period of heightened emotional instability in the surrounding region – increased storms, unsettling dreams, and a palpable sense of loss. Theron and his team meticulously tracked this cycle, believing they could ultimately control it, perhaps even reverse it. Their final, desperate attempt involved constructing a device designed to amplify the Crimson Moon’s energy, but the results were catastrophic – a localized temporal fracture that nearly ripped a hole in the fabric of reality.
Despite this failure, the cycle continues. And with each dimming, a new, younger buck is born – a paler, less vibrant echo of its predecessors, carrying with it the weight of forgotten histories and the unsettling promise of a return.