When the moon binds itself to blood, the world will burn.
The Moon Goddess stirred from her rest, awakened by a whisper that burned through the air like fire.
"What is happening?" she wondered, rising slowly from the bamboo mat where she lay. For centuries, she had been known for her unmatched power—her visions, her ability to see beyond time itself. Never had she been shaken like this.
She sat upright, legs crossed, palms stretched outward, and closed her eyes in deep concentration.
The air shifted.
A presence surrounded her.
Dark. Heavy. Ancient.
Before she could react, her body gave way, and she collapsed into unconsciousness.
Two days passed.
When her eyes finally opened, she was met with a circle of anxious faces—moon worshippers gathered around her bed. Fear and relief were etched clearly into their expressions. Murmurs filled the room.
She tried to rise, but her strength failed her. One of the worshippers steadied her as she took a slow, heavy breath.
Then her daughter stepped forward, her first and only child.
"Everyone out," she commanded. "Only the elders stay."
The room emptied in silence.
All eyes returned to the Moon Goddess.
She inhaled deeply before she spoke.
"A great fall is coming."
Her voice trembled.
"The witches, the wolves, and the nightbloods will rise into a war of blood. A war so violent that none will escape it."
Gasps filled the room.
Fear followed.
Then she continued.
"There is only one way to stop it."
Hope flickered in their eyes.
"A female virgin wolf must be sacrificed to the vampires."
Silence. Heavy. Crushing.
The oldest elder finally spoke.
"If that is the only path to survival, then it shall be done."
No one argued.
After a long moment, Melissa spoke, calm, deliberate.
"She will be chosen from the most wretched and non-reputable family," she said. "So no war will rise from her death."
And just like that…
The fate of a girl was sealed.
*****************************
The elders gathered in secret, seated in a wide circle as silence pressed heavily on them. Each of them searched their minds for another solution, anything other than sacrificing one of their own to their rivals. Yet no answer came. The villagers knew about the impending war but only the moon goddess and few elders knew how to stop it.
With no other option left, they decided to search for families who were not well known, those with no reputation or standing in the village. Families whose loss would not cause an uproar. Weeks passed as they searched tirelessly, but no suitable candidate was found.
Meanwhile, the signs of an approaching war had already begun to appear, strange things began to happen, wolves became so reckless and patrolled at night, The full moon usually appeared once a month, but now it appeared three times within the same month, which made it difficult to control the bloodshed among their kind. The air grew tense, patrols increased, and whispers of bloodshed filled the village. Still, the elders came up empty-handed.
They searched for even longer, desperation creeping into their hearts, until they finally came across a poor family of two children, a girl and her younger brother.
It had always been tradition that by the age of eighteen, a werewolf would have wolfed out, proving their strength and place among their kind. Any werewolf who failed to do so was considered weak, incomplete, or cursed. Now, this family was the only one that fit the requirements: no reputation, no influence, and no high rank within the village.
This village had been feared for many years, as countless stories were told about the powerful heiress, Vanya, who had once lived among them. Vanya had sacrificed herself to stop a war much like the one threatening them now. She was born poor and wretched but was the only one to stand up against the frequent murders that occurred during her time. She was known for her immense power and unwavering bravery, and she died defending the village from destruction.
Since her death, Vanya had been worshipped by everyone, elders and villagers alike. Legends claimed that even the moon goddess herself honored Vanya's sacrifice. Her name was spoken with reverence, her story passed down through generations as both a warning and a source of hope. Parents and guardians used her story as a means of motivation and encouragement to their children and also a means of warning.
After a long and careful period of observation, the elders finally came to a decision. Among all the families in the village, only one met every requirement of the selection process. They turned their attention to a small, overlooked household that had long existed on the edges of the village. Within that family, their eldest daughter, Ayla, stood out—not because of strength or reputation, but because of her quiet presence and unremarkable life.
From then on, Ayla became the center of their watchful eyes. Elders and guards alike were assigned to keep track of her movements, blending into the crowds and observing from a distance. She was followed through narrow paths, watched during her daily chores, and silently noted whenever she stepped beyond the familiar grounds of her home. Care was taken to ensure she never wandered too far or spoke to anyone who might draw attention to her.
Though Ayla sensed the change, she could not explain it. She noticed the lingering gazes, the repeated faces in places she frequented, and the sudden restrictions placed around her movements. Doors that once stood open were now guarded, and paths she had taken freely were subtly blocked. Still, no one spoke to her directly, and no reason was given.
At first, she thought it was just the order from the moon Goddess to protect everyone but she didn't know it was something more.
Unaware of the true purpose behind the watch, Ayla continued her days under an unseen restraint, never knowing how closely her life was being measured and controlled by those who held power in the village.