The cave reeked of death and decay, thick with the metallic tang of fresh blood. Scattered like broken toys across the damp earth lay the corpses of Kamzoths, wretched bat-spawn from old night legends and kin to dread Camazotz: leathery wings torn apart, jagged teeth catching the faint torchlight, black ichor pooling beneath them.

  Lily wiped a streak of grime from her cheek, her breaths coming in heavy gasps. Scratches crisscrossed her arms, shallow but stinging, and her leathers were splattered with dirt and gore. A strange cold thrill had raced through her veins the moment she'd driven her own sword into the crawling beast. She'd shoved the feeling down fast, telling herself it was just adrenaline.

  Beside her, Samuel stabbed the last remaining creature still flapping weakly, trying to escape. His own face was lined with exhaustion, a fresh cut above his brow trickling blood.

  “Not bad for your first real hunt with me,” he grunted with pride, then clapped a hand on her shoulder. “You’ve hardly finished growing, yet you held your ground. Didn’t flinch once, not even when those wings came slashing at your face.”

  Lily straightened, forced a confident grin through the fatigue. "I told you I was ready. Kamzoths? Pffft. Please. They are just like oversized bats to me. You’ll see next time, I'll take on something actually bigger than this."

  Samuel looked amused, sheathing his blade. "We'll see about that, Lily-bug. For now, let's call this a win and get out before—"

  Click-click-click!

  The sword, still half-sheathed trembled in its scabbard, the hilt vibrating as though alive, sensing something the humans couldn’t yet see.

  Lily’s grin faded. “Dad?”

  Tightened his grip on the sword as he scanned the dark tunnel ahead. “There’s something else in here.”

  In one smooth motion he drew the blade again, steel singing free. Stepped in front of his daughter, gently but firmly pushing her behind him with his free arm so she was shielded by his back.

  “Stay close. Keep your eyes open.”

  That was when the cave shook as a low rumble thrummed from the hollow below, cracks spiderwebbing across the walls, and the ground trembled under their feet. Dust rained from the ceiling. From the depths emerged a nightmare.

  The Amaroq: armored scales glistening like forged iron, its serpent body long as a village road, slithered forward with terrifying speed. The cave became too small, too suffocating, as it surged toward them.

  Samuel's face paled. "Back! Go back! We can't take this thing!"

  They bolted back from where they came in, hearts pounding, the beast's hiss chasing them like a curse. They ran as fast as they could but it was faster. Its massive jaws snapped forward, clamping around Samuel's leg and yanking him off his feet. He slammed into the ground, sword clattering away.

  "Daaad!" Lily screamed as she skidded to a halt.

  The creature dragged him deeper, its coils thrashing.

  Samuel twisted in pain, but his eyes fixed on hers.

  "Run, Lily! Save yourself! Gooo!"

  The Amaroq's maw closed tighter, pulling him into the gloom. Lily lunged but the tail, plated in scales older than empires, whipped and slammed into her chest.

  The world spun, pain exploding through her ribs. She crashed against the cave wall, vision blurring…

  and everything went black.

  ...

  When Lily woke, the cave was silent.

  Too silent.

  Her head throbbed, body aching as she pushed herself up on trembling arms. The torch had guttered out, leaving only faint moonlight filtering from the entrance. Samuel's sword lay abandoned, smeared with blood. No body. No sign of him.

  "Dad?"

  Her whisper bounced back, mocking her.

  He was gone. Might have been eaten, devoured by that monster. The thought hurt more than her injuries. Tears burned her eyes, then spilled like relentless rain down her cheeks.

  "No... nooo… Dad… you can't be..." She clawed at the ground, sobs wracking her small frame.

  Her grief curled into rage, and then something came outward like a dark tide flooding from her body.

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  How dare it take him?

  The words seared through her mind as if someone else were coldly narrating them, as if the fury itself had grown a voice inside her skull.

  My only family. The only person who never ran from what I am.

  Find that snake.

  KILL IT!

  Tear it open. Rip it to pieces. Leave nothing. NOTHING.

  The anger swelled, consuming her.

  Samuel’s sword, still lying in the dirt a few paces away, began to convulse again. Its blade rattled against the stone floor, metal singing softly against rock. The tremor ran up the scabbard, then stilled… only to twitch again a second later, more violent this time, as though protesting what she was becoming.

  Lily’s vision tinted red. Veins pulsed with unnatural cold beneath her skin. Shadows gathered around her, no longer passive wisps but living ink crawling up her arms, her legs, her throat, seeping into every pore. Her bones cracked and realigned with wet, grinding pops. Claws punched through her fingertips, black and curved. Her entire frame stretched, growing impossibly larger; muscles swelling, limbs elongating until she loomed taller than any mortal should, a towering silhouette of shadow creature.

  She wasn’t Lily anymore, not the fifteen-year-old girl who’d joked about bigger hunts, not the one who’d grinned at her dad’s teasing. She was something primal, monstrous, born of fury and loss.

  The sword gave one final, desperate rattle… then fell silent.

  With a guttural snarl that echoed off the cave walls like breaking stone, the shadow-wreathed beast spun back racing on all fours deeper toward the huge serpent’s sleeping ground, hungering for vengeance.

  ...

  Elsewhere, under the same moon, a royal caravan wound through the trees. Lanterns swayed from the wagons, casting flickering light on armored guards and richly embroidered banners.

  One of the men, a grizzled captain, reined in his horse beside the lead carriage.

  "Your Highness," he said with deference, "the hour grows late. We should camp here for the night. The road ahead is treacherous in the dark."

  A young prince replied from within the carriage, he spoke calmly. “Very well. Make camp but ensure we’re ready to break at first light. We ride early tomorrow. I won’t tolerate delays.”

  The captain bowed his head. “As you command, Your Highness.”

  The men dismounted, setting up tents and fires with efficiency.

  Laughter floated faintly as they shared rations, the forest's hush broken only by the crackle of flames.

  But then, a distressed rumble shattered the peace, like thunder rolling through the undergrowth.

  "What in the gods' name—" the captain started.

  The Amaroq exploded from the forest trees, its massive form barreling past like a fleeing storm. One eye was a ruined socket, wounded, gore streaming down its iron scales, its movements frantic, desperate. It wasn't hunting, it was escaping.

  "Form up!" the captain bellowed. "Protect the crown prince!"

  The soldiers attacked for defense, spears braced, shields locking into a wall. The beast veered, intercepted, and chaos erupted. Coils lashed out, smashing through ranks like a battering ram. Men screamed as bones fractured, bodies hurled aside. Spears skidded harmlessly off armored hide; swords shattered against its fangs.

  The prince got out from his carriage, sword drawn, and his hands steady despite the fear knotting his gut.

  "Stand down! I'll fight!"

  But his men wouldn't yield. One by one, they fell, crushed under it, torn by jaws, their loyalty buying him moments. The captain went last, shoving the prince behind an overturned wagon with a final, bloodied gasp:

  "Live, sire!"

  Alone now, the prince crouched in the wreckage, sword trembling in his grip. Inexperienced, untested, he faced the colossal serpent as it turned its single eye on him. Coils reared, ready to strike him.

  This is my end, he thought, heart thundering. Felt weak and unworthy.

  But the forest split with a roar.

  A shadow creature descended like night incarnate, form wreathed in twisting darkness, claws gleaming, eyes burning like rubies. It slammed into the fleeing serpent in a whirlwind of savagery.

  The colossal reptile recoiled in raw terror, recognizing its earlier tormentor. Desperate jaws snapped and tail lashed, but strikes passed through her like mist. Waves of deathly chill rolled outward, frosting nearby trees and brittling the ground beneath. She tore into armored scales, ripping iron-hard plates in wet, screaming shreds; dark blood gushed, steaming and freezing into crimson icicles mid-air.

  Even after the beast buckled, collapsing, body going limp, she didn't stop. Claws slashed relentlessly, tearing over and over in blind, consuming rage. The serpent was long dead, yet she buried both hands in its throat and wrenched sideways with furious, unrelenting strength. The massive head tore free in a spray of gore and bone, hitting the ground with a heavy thud, jaws still gaping, tongue black and thick.

  She stood victorious on the ruined neck, claws dripping. Blood crusted dark and frozen on her arms. The forest fell silent except for the crackle of frost spreading from where she stood.

  She lifted the severed head high in one clawed hand. A primal roar tore from her throat with a deafening, shattering declaration that scattered birds and beasts alike into the night.

  The prince huddled in the shade of the overturned wagon, almost petrified by the horror he had just endured. Two mythical creatures, rarer than dragons and unknown even to his kingdom’s scholars, had torn into each other with primal fury right before him. The shock of it made him shift involuntarily; a rock crunched under his boot.

  The dark creature's head snapped toward him, red eyes piercing the gloom and locking onto his. For a moment, they held each other's gaze: ancient predator and terrified boy.

  Yet in that locked stare, his raw fear warped into something profound and shadowed. He saw not just monstrous rage, but a flicker beneath it; an aching loneliness, the kind that devours from the inside out. It mirrored something buried deep in his own self, the isolation of a crown he never asked for, the pressure of being forever watched yet never truly seen.

  Admiration took him first, then something darker: a fierce, possessive pull, fear-laced desire that whispered she was like him; broken, powerful, alone.

  I must have her.

  The creature reared back, claws raised to strike.

  But then…

  Bushes thrashed in the frost-laced trees that something heavy stumbled closer. A pained groan, then one hoarse, half-choked cry of a name called out through the place.

  Her head snapped toward the sound’s direction. Claws hovered… wavered… then slowly lowered.

  With a frustrated snarl, she turned and melted into the misty woods, vanishing into the night.

  The young prince had been spared.

  Not by luck, he thought. Destiny. He was meant to meet her.

  Years would pass.

  Promises would break.

  A crown would rise.

  But that night, the shadow had saved a boy... and doomed them both.

  Okayyy folks!! Let’s BREATHE (????)? ??

  This is just a snippet of what’s coming on the storyline.

  Now, let’s return to the very beginning.

  Every storm has an origin, and every legend has a history to tell.

  I’ll start with Lily’s mother. Her desperate song tamed something she never expected and somehow it became the start of the whole damn story.

  (?>?
  Chapter 1: Moon Lullaby

  starts NOW.

  Go for the next chapter!

  The lullaby is calling. ???

  See you in the moonlight.