ALPHA'S MOON (kiari the lost bloodline)

The full moon hung like a silver medallion over Moonhaven, bathing the Kiari stronghold in ethereal light. The village thrived under Lysander Kiari's stewardship, nestled between the Shadowpeak Mountains and the Whispering Woods. Stone cottages draped in moonflower vines seemed to glow with an otherworldly aura, while streets paved with luminous river stones shimmered like a pathway to the stars. At the village heart stood the Moonstone Altar, where Lysander knelt beside his eight-year-old daughter Malia as her silver hair shows a clear sign that she inherited the kiari's bloodline. His broad, scarred hands gently guided her small fingers over the altar's carvings. "Feel the pulse, little moon?" he whispered, his voice resonating like distant thunder, yet softened when addressing his child. Trying so hard to allow his child to have a normal childhood like any other child but still being aware of who she is. Malia's eyes sparkled with fascination as she explored the intricate patterns. "It tingles, Papa! Like fireflies in my veins!" Her silver-white hair cascaded down her back like a river of moonlight, and her wide-set, luminous eyes shone with wonder. Elara, Malia's mother, watched with warm amber eyes, her slender yet strong frame radiating quiet strength. She wore simple hunter's leathers, a bow slung across her back, and her gaze never left her daughter's face as she felt how happy and peaceful her daughter was as if her joy was infectious. "The power chooses its time, Lysander. Let her be a child a while longer.” The village bells shattered the peace of three sharp, discordant clangs that sent a shiver down Malia's spine. Lysander's warmth vanished, replaced by the stern posture of the Kiari Warlord already aware that something is not right. "Elara! The western ridge!" He pointed to the torchlight snaking down the mountainside, hundreds of points moving with military precision. Chaos erupted as villagers screamed and cottages burst into flames. Arrows rained down, finding targets with sickening thuds. Lysander shoved Malia into Elara's arms. "The caves! Go NOW!" He kissed Malia's forehead, his calloused thumb brushing the faint crescent birthmark at her hairline, he wished that he had more time with her but he needs to be a warlord at the moment and nothing is more important to him than his daughter's safety as he says "Remember who you are." Elara sprinted toward the Whispering Woods, Malia clinging to her back but her gaze never left her father's figure until she could no longer catch a glimpse of him. A young Bloodclaw soldier, Edward, blocked their path. "H-halt! By order of the Alpha King!" Elara pleaded, "Let us pass!" Edward hesitated, his gaze locked with Malia's tear-filled silver eyes. He saw no threat, only innocence and terror mirroring his own. Behind him, the roar of battle intensified. Lysander stood alone, his moonsteel blade cutting down the enemy with deadly precision. Edward lunged at the approaching captain, tackling his legs. "RUN, LADY ELARA!" As they fled, Malia saw her father standing tall, his blade a whirlwind of silver light. Elara collapsed against a moss-covered monolith deep in the forest, an arrow piercing her shoulder, a wound she got as she was escaping while protecting her daughter. The forest seemed to hold its breath, the moonlight filtering through the leaves like shards of broken glass. "Mama?" Malia whispered, her small hands pressing uselessly against the wound. Elara's voice was barely audible. "Find... your aunt Anya... in Haven's Crag... You are... Kiari... last light..." Her eyes fluttered as tears stroll down her cheeks as she pities her daughter and begs the moon in her heart to always protect her daughter from all harm, as her hand fell limp. Malia's world shattered as she curled against her mother's still body. The forest seemed to whisper with an eerie silence, the only sound she heard was the distant clash of steel and the crackling of flames. Caspian, Malia's uncle, emerged from the shadows, his face etched with grief. He gathered Malia gently, his voice cracking as he looked at Elara's lifeless body. "By the moons... Elara..." As they fled, disaster struck again. Bloodclaws ambushed them, and Caspian shoved the girls into a thicket. "Stay hidden!" He charged, fighting with desperate fury. Malia watched, numb, as he fell, his eyes finding hers in the thicket as she secretly sheds tears. After a while the area becomes silent again as Malia crows out of her hiding place as she sits beside Caspian who also sacrifices himself for her as Anya his wife and Irene his daughter approaches. Irene's scream tore through the night, her small face contorted with grief and rage. "You!" she spat, tears streaming down her face. "They died for you! Papa! Uncle Lysander! Aunt Elara! All for you!" Anya pulled her close, her own tears flowing freely. "Hush, child! Hush! It was his choice. Your father chose hope." Anya looks at Malia and remembers the kindness her father showed them when they had nothing fighting for scraps even though they were not related, she stretches out her hands towards Malia and says come on let's go. As Anya led the girls toward Haven's Crag, Irene's grief hardened into something cold and sharp in her eyes, remaining cold intent to kill the people that destroyed her family. The whispers of the woods seemed to carry a new word, breathed on the wind like a curse: Revenge. Malia clutched the small moonstone amulet, her father's last gift. The legacy of Kiari weighs more heavily than before as Malia begins to understand that she is now all alone in a world with a lot of possibilities that she is yet to fully understand.