SHADOWS OF THE FULL MOON

The morning sun cast soft, golden rays upon Eldoria and pierced through the thick canopies of the forests. Drake strode through the busy marketplace, his tread heavy but sure. The smell of fresh lumber, pine needles, and moist earth filled the air as he made for the woodcutters' stall. His dark brown hair, tousled from his day's work, clung slightly to his forehead. Looming beside the town folk, he was a lean muscled figure that spoke of long hours of chopping wood and tempering muscles. As he approached the market stalls, Drake's amber eyes scanned the crowd as the usual chaos of city life befell his gaze. Unlike peaceful, rustic Thornebrook, Eldoria was vibrant, almost too vibrant. Noise, chatter, and wealth danced in the air like some kind of veil to remind him of what his village could never attain. He clenched his jaw and carried on, mind focused on trading lumber for supplies. "Fresh cut pine, sir?" yelled the vendor as Drake approached, laying down his bundle of neatly stacked logs. The vendor was an older man, round of body with a crooked smile that seemed to size him up quickly enough before he extended a firm handshake. "Perfect quality, I see." Drake gave a slight nod. "Trade for supplies," he grunted, sliding a list of items across the table. "Enough for the villagers back in Thornebrook." While the merchant began to add the merchandise together, a raucous noise from afar seized Drake's attention. The clatter of hooves against cobblestones and the blare of trumpets tore the air, as the king's royal cortège crossed by the marketplace, a gilded carriage shimmering under the noonday sun. Guards marched in formation, spears glinting like sharp silver teeth. Drake exhaled and ignored the procession as much as possible, though such views of Eldoria's richness seemed to raise his silent anger. He faced the vendor again, focused on his purchase when, suddenly, one figure popped up at the corner of his sight. A tall, impossibly graceful woman sat astride a black stallion, her long, golden blond hair cascading over her shoulders like a waterfall of gold. Her eyes-gray as piercing slate-swept over the marketplace with regal indifference until they locked on his. For a heartbeat, the world around Drake seemed to still, and their gazes held, frozen in that strange, connecting moment. It was her. Princess Elara. In one swift movement, Elara's gaze faltered, her chin rising a fraction higher as she looked away, pretending not to have seen him at all. But Drake couldn't disregard the flicker of surprise in her eyes. He snorted under his breath and turned back to his transaction. Another royal treating the common folk like dirt, he grumbled, pocketing his supplies, while the reminder of just how little her family cared for villages like Thornebrook darkened his thoughts. --- The moment Elara arrived back at Eldoria Castle, she dismounted her horse. Her mind was filled with images of that man in the marketplace. Something about him unsettled her. It felt as though his presence was still all around her long after he was out of sight. She shook off such thoughts and went towards the great dining hall. Dinner was always a formal affair, on the long banquet table with its topping of silverware and insignias from royalty, shining under the soft glow of chandeliers. King Alaric sat at the head, his queen, Margaret, beside him, and Geoff, her knight and intended, proximal to her, his muscular form taking up much space alongside her slender frame. "Elara," Geoff said quietly, his hand brushing hers, "You appear preoccupied. Something weighs upon your mind?" She blinked, her thoughts snapped back to the present. "Nothing of importance," she lied well. She offered him a polite smile, though her mind continued to stray back to the tall, muscular stranger from the marketplace. Geoffs expression said he didnt believe her, but he said nothing more as they continued their meal. Yet even as the evening wore on, Elara couldnt help but stare out the grand windows, lost to her thoughts. The man in amber eyes, fierce and unreadable haunted her. Who was he? And why had she felt such an intense pull toward him, if just for a second? --- Later, with the full moon low in the sky, glowing with a light most ethereal, the village of Thornebrook bathed in silvery light. The wind caroused through the trees as Drake trained under the watchful eye of his uncle Alcott. "Steady, boy," Alcott grunted, holding a wooden staff in a defensive stance. Drake swung his blade, aiming for precision rather than power. His body had begun to ripple with the strength of his wolf form, though he kept his human features intact, save for his sharpening teeth and the occasional glint of amber light in his eyes. "How much longer do you think it'll be until I can keep control?" Drake growled out through gritted teeth. Alcott blocked his next strike with ease. "You're close. But control comes from within. Stop thinking of the beast as something separate from you." Drake stopped and panted. His mind betrayed him, of course, for it went right back to Elara: the princess. She was everything he despised about Eldoria- entitled, blind to the misery her family created at the fringes of their kingdom. Yet. the image of her eyes would not dislodge themselves from his mind, stirring in ways he did not understand. "I don't have time for distractions, Uncle," Drake said, shaking his head to clear the thoughts of her. "There's too much at stake for me to be thinking about some spoiled princess." Alcott raised an eyebrow. "A princess, you say? Hmph. Well, if you're already thinking about her, that's your first mistake." Drake grunted, tightening his grip on his sword. "She's nothing to me." Yet, even as the words came out of his mouth, he knew he lied. Something had shifted in that instantaneous moment in the market. And it disturbed him more than he cared to admit. - - The following morning, Princess Elara arose well before the sun to tack up her horse, Zephyr, for an early morning ride. Geoff rode next to her, his protective nature getting in the way of the alone time she liked. Geoffrey," she said softly as they rode along the path in the forest, "I enjoy your company, but I would like to ride alone today. I must think." Geoff vacillated but then nodded. "Very well, Your Highness. I'll ride ahead. Just be careful. Elara smiled a little, in appreciation of his understanding. She needed time to think. She needed time to sort out the confusing emotions stirred up by the stranger. Yet before she could find the peace she sought, a message came for Geoff, delivered by a breathless courier. "Elara," Geoff said gravely, scanning the parchment, "there's trouble in the eastern kingdom. I need to leave immediately." "Go," she said, her voice strong. "I will be back to the keep within a little time." Geoff tarried a moment longer, then kicked his horse and took off down the road to disappear over the horizon. It was then a sudden, violent rustling of bushes drew her gaze. It was too quick, too deliberate. Before she could move, shadows emerged from the forest—Black Stone Knights, their armor black as the night, their eyes shining with malevolent intent. Scarce had her guards time to draw their swords than they were cut down one after another by a host of brutal attacks. With every blow, it became a greater battle for Elara to keep her fear at bay. She kicked Zephyr into a run, but it served no good purpose; in an instant, the knights overran her. A knight seized her and dragged her from the horse. She fell upon the ground with a thud, the air knocked out of her. "Looks like the princess is ours now," the man sneered. The last thing she saw before the darkness claimed her was the sneer of the Black Stone Knight that dragged her into the shadows. Drake would soon hear the howls in the distance. And although he knew not yet what fate had intertwined with his, the night would bring more than just the challenge of his transformation; it would bring a choice that might well be their salvation-or their doom.