Daughter of the Lost Clan

The night I thought was the most beautiful I had ever seen, chasing fireflies suddenly became one I couldn't ever forget, even though the heavens were to collapse. I went after their pale lights as they floated over the fields, flickering like tiny stars that lit up the field. My mother's laughter followed me through the grass, music to my ears as I heard the chirping of crickets and how the lights danced around while fireflies communicated with themselves. My mother reached out and caught one of the glowing specks in her palms. “The goddess blessed us tonight,” she whispered, her eyes soft and kind. “It means prosperity and peace.” Peace. I remember that word. How fragile and gentle it felt even before I knew what it meant. Then came the scream. It resonated through the night, sharp, eerie, and close enough to silence the crickets. My mother froze in horror. The light between her fingers dimmed significantly and died. Soon after, another scream followed, then another, until the fields were full of them. A chorus of pain and agony. I turned towards the village, towards the bright orange that began to rise above the rooftops. “Mama?” I called out in fear. “Lysandra… run.” Her voice trembled, with a subtle fear and urgency. Before I could even move, the ground shuddered with heavy paws, and breaths I could hear from a distance. From between the trees, two wolves emerged, massive and silver-eyed, their furs coated with blood, and the unnerving stench it carried. Despite how they looked, they moved with purpose and intent, their steps deliberate and their stares careful. My mother quickly stepped in front of me, hands glowing faintly. “Go back,” she said, her voice shaky now. “Go!” One of the wolves lunged. I didn't even have time to scream before another shape crashed into it, blur of dark fur and iron. My father. He hit the wolf with an iron axe that cracked its skull and drove it into the dirt. Blood sprayed across the grass. “Take her!” He barked, voice rough with command and urgency. “To the altar! Quickly!” My mother grabbed me by the arm with hesitation, pulling me through the smoke that had started to engulf the valley. The air hung tight in my throat and the scent of burning wood made it harder to breathe. Behind us, the clash of claws and snarls felt closer than they were. I looked back once, just once and saw my father fall beneath a wave of teeth. My mother didn't let me stop as tears had already settled in her eyes . By the time we reached the temple, our world was nothing but fire that seemed endless. The once-white stones of the altar now glowed red in the reflection of flames. My mother shoved me toward a hollow beneath the structure, a narrow gap barely large enough for me to crawl through. “Hide your light,” she whispered, brushing the tears from my face I barely noticed with trembling hands. “Hide it, and live on. Do you understand?” I didn't. No, I didn't want to. But I nodded, because her voice broke on the last word. She pushed me inside, the stone walls scraped my arms as I slid into the darkness. I could hear her outside, whispering prayers under her breath. Then… the temple doors burst open. Through the cracks in the altar, I saw them— wolves. There were so many that I couldn't count. They moved like a swarm, feasting on everything they laid their eyes on and cutting down anyone who stood in their path. I caught glimpses of body parts in their mouths and heard bodies hitting the cold earth with a loud thud as the cries of healers begged for mercy. Magic lit the air in fleeting bursts, silver light clashing against fangs until one by one, the lights went out. My mother's voice rose in defiance, and then ended in a scream. I bit my hand to keep me from crying out, the taste of blood, like iron filled my mouth. Smoke crept through the hollow, thick and blinding. But it was not nearly as stifling as having to hide my voice as I heard my mother fall. I could see someone that stood apart from them, someone I could feel with every bone and skin that was the leader. Tall, armoured, his eyes filled with destruction. His sword dripped with the blood of healers under the moon. When he turned, his face caught the light, calm and proud and I marked it into my memories. When the last body fell, he lifted his blade and called to his men. “For the glory of Runeblood!” They cheered, voices like thunder and marching that seemed like an earthquake. And just like that, they left. I stayed hidden throughout the night, too afraid that they might still be lurking around.gain, until only the sound of crackling woods remained. When I managed to crawl out, the whole temple was gone. Just ruins and smoke. Years of history kept in place by my people, all burnt to the ground in dirt. The air was heavy with the smell of charred people. My bare feet crunched on something soft and brittle. Ash. I walked through what was left of the village. The river that once reflected the moon and glittered now ran dark. Houses lay in burned heaps. The healer's banners were trampled into the mud. I found my mother's necklace, a small crescent moon carved from bone lying among the rubble. I held it so tightly that it pierved my skin and I bled. Under the fading moonlight, I made a promise to myself. To remember. To survive. To make them pay no matter what. The years that followed taught me things I never knew before— hunger, suffering, and then silence. I learned to bury my power beneath calloused hands, to trade healing for food and shelter. All I could think of all these times were the Runeblood, whose rule was law and order spread among the southern lands. It was a dreadful surprise when I learnt that the Lunaris clan, my clan was believed to have been attacked by some foreign rogue pack. I gnashed my teeth in agony as lies took solid foundation in the hearts of the people and the truth seemed to be a story that only existed in my mind. But still, I survived. The moon became my only witness, its pale light, the same shade as my power, the same power my mother charged me to protect. How much longer could I keep it up?