VELARIA: The Blood Eclipse Prophecy

It started with a whisper. It was Faint and Fragile. Like the forest was exhaling her name into the cold night air. “Aria…” She paused mid-stride, the crunch of dry leaves beneath her boots swallowed by the silence that followed. The forest stood eerily still, as if even the wind was too afraid to stir. Above, Ravaryn’s skies loomed dark and bloated with clouds that had brooded all week without release. The townsfolk called it an omen, a bad moon rising, whispered warnings passed from elder to child in frightened tones, but Aria Valemire had never been one to fear what she didn’t understand but yet tonight, something was different. The Hollow Woods had always unsettled her. The trees were too twisted, too alive. Their limbs curled like ancient fingers, reaching and rasping at the stars. Filled with fears and the unimaginables, the forest's air became denser as one who would be foolish enough to go into it, entered into the the hearts of the forest. Tonight, though, it didn’t just feel eerie, it felt aware. As though the trees were breathing, as though the night had eyes. As though it knew her. She wasn’t supposed to be this far in. She had only meant to step inside the outer rim, gather herbs for Madame Lune’s fever draught, and leave before nightfall, yet the forest had lured her into the heart of the forest. It spoke her name like a lullaby soaked in warning, like a curse dressed as comfort. Something ancient. Familiar. Inevitable. And now she was lost. Crack. Aria spun, her heart in her throat. Her fingers flew to the hilt of the small dagger hidden beneath her wool-lined coat. The sound had come from behind her, too heavy to be a squirrel or a fox, but she wished it were one. It was too precise to be an accident. Her breath hitched. Every instinct and fibre in her screamed: Run, but something rooted her. Something deeper than fear, older than survival. The wind shifted. Cool and sharp as ice through her lungs. Then she heard it. The howl. It was low and deep, like the bones of the forest were singing. It rolled through the trees, bounced off its bark, echoed off stones, and threaded its way into the hollow of her spine. It was mournful, yes, but more than that, it was.......... calling. Not just to the woods. To her. The blood in her veins slowed. Her knees weakened. Something inside her stirred. Almost in a trance, she stepped forward. Another step. Then another. The trees ahead divided a bit to reveal a path that looked like it was bathed by the moon. For the first time in what felt like days, the clouds peeled back, and the full moon pushed through like an eye watching the world. There, standing at the heart of the clearing, was the wolf. Massive. Larger than any natural creature had a right to be. Its coat was ink-black, rippling like smoke over muscle. Its fur absorbed the light rather than reflecting it, but its eyes, not the usual, they were violet, no, they burned violet. Not the golden glare of a common wolf, or the deep black that'll see through your soul, and not the icy blue, that legends tales of. No, these eyes shimmered like a bruise blooming in the sky. Violet. Stormy. Ancient. Aria froze. The wolf didn’t growl. Didn’t bare its teeth. It only watched her. She didn’t move. Didn’t blink. She felt the hum beneath her skin, the thrum of something foreign, some strange magnetic pull. Her heart slammed against her ribs, and yet... she didn’t feel afraid. It took one step forward. Slow. Controlled. Then another. There was only but a bit of space between it and her. So close, she could see the way its breath fogged the night air and could feel its warmth on her skin. Still, she didn’t run. She should. She knew that, but this didn’t feel like predator and prey. This felt like…..... recognition. The wolf lowered its head slightly, not in aggression, in acknowledgement. Aria’s lips parted. “What........are you?” It tilted its head as if in response to her question and then, impossibly, it bowed. She blinked. Her heart skipped. Time hiccupped. Then, the wind screamed. Lightning cracked the sky apart in a jagged s***h of white. The air charged. The wolf’s head snapped up. Its body tensed, fur bristling. A growl rumbled from its chest, low and lethal but not directed at her. Something was behind her. She turned, but too late. Pain exploded across her shoulder like fire. Claws or teeth, she couldn’t tell. She screamed, stumbling forward, warmth spilling down her back. The world tilted. Her knees hit the ground. The trees spun. She blacked out, fell face forward towards the ground. Through blurred eyes, she saw the black wolf launch itself over her body, a snarl tearing from its throat. It collided with something snarling in return. A flash of fangs. The c***k of bone. A yelp. Growls tangled together like thunder. Aria tried to push herself up. Her arms buckled. Her blood pulsed hot and fast, and then, blackness took her. ------------------------------------------------- She woke with a gasp. Her lungs burned as though she’d been underwater. Her skin slick with sweat. The moon's radiance drifted in through her bedroom window, bathing everything in a quiet yet velvety shimmer. Her bedsheets tangled around her like restraints. Sitting up, she clutched her shoulder. Pain flared sharp and real beneath her palm. Her shirt was soaked. She yanked the fabric aside and froze. There, seared into her skin, was a mark. Not a wound. Not a scar. A symbol. A crescent. It shone, not brightly, but soft like as if it were an ember underneathher skin. Her mind reeled. Was it real? Was she still dreaming? Then there was a knock. “Are you awake, child?" Aria couldn’t speak. Could barely breathe. “Y-yes,” she finally managed. “Good,” came the reply. “The bitter roots can wait. Stay in bed. The storm is near.” Footsteps retreated. Aria stared at the mark on her skin, her thoughts tumbling like stones down a cliff. She remembered the wolf. The eyes. The howl. The pain. And the way the forest had whispered her name. The mark pulsed once beneath her touch, outside, the sky growled. The storm had just arrived.