The emerald moon hung low and heavy in the darkened sky, painting the aged oaks of Eldermoor Wood in a sickly green hue. I slouched against the gnarled trunk of a sprawling oak, my quiver full of arrows and my longbow at the ready. My chestnut braids swayed gently in the cool breeze as I listened for any signs of movement.

I was the Green-Eyed Archer, feared by all who knew of me. Some say I could hit a flea at a hundred paces and never miss. Others claimed I made a pact with the devil himself for my unnatural abilities. But I knew the truth, and it was far more strange than any old wives' tale.

As I waited, a twig snapped deep in the woods. I tensed, my fingers tightening around the grip of my bow. A figure emerged from the shadows, tall and gaunt with skin as pale as snow. His eyes glowed an inhuman red in the dark.

"Archer," he rasped, his voice like dry leaves. "I have come for you."

"I've been expecting you," I replied, my voice steady. I nocked an arrow and pulled the string back to my cheek. "The prophecy said you would come to challenge me on the night of the green moon."

The creature laughed, a sound that sent chills down my spine. "Prophecy? Ha! I am no champion of fate, but a humble collector. And you, my dear, have a price on your head."

I narrowed my eyes, doubt creeping in. "What do you mean? I am no criminal."

"Aren't you?" he quirked a skeletal brow. "I think you'll find your memory is... unreliable. Shall we dance, Archer?"

With a sudden lunge, he drew a black scimitar from the shadows. I met him with an arrow to the chest, but he simply laughed as it disintegrated on impact. He struck back and I barely dodged, his blade whistling past my cheek.

We fought through the night, the sound of clashing steel and the occasional arrow ringing out. But somehow, I always ended up back where I started, confused and disoriented. Every time I thought I had him beat, he would vanish and I would find myself alone under the green moon.

Suddenly, a searing pain split through my skull. I collapsed to the ground, my bow slipping from my grasp. As I looked up, the creature loomed over me, his sword raised for the final blow. But just as it fell, a blinding light exploded, sending us both flying.

When my vision cleared, I was alone. The creature had vanished, but my bow lay broken at my feet. As I stumbled to my feet, I noticed a piece of parchment caught in a nearby branch. On it was written:

"The Green-Eyed Archer of Eldermoor Wood Shot an arrow at the rising moon But missed, and fell Into a dream from which she did not wake"