The village changed with the seasons. The heat of summer had given way to the cooler winds of autumn. The leaves had turned shades of red and orange, casting a warm glow over the village. The air smelled of earth and wood smoke, and the fields, once filled with tall grass, were now being harvested in preparation for the colder months ahead. The villagers worked diligently, their faces marked with both determination and underlying worry. The Blood Moon was a time of dread, when the Wesen were at their most dangerous, and everyone could feel it in the air. There was a tension, an anticipation of something dark on the horizon.
Nicolas felt it too. He could sense the shift in the atmosphere, the way the sky seemed to darken earlier each evening, the way the winds howled through the trees as if warning of the danger to come. His thoughts often drifted back to Renrou. The changes in his friend were undeniable, but Nicolas didn't know how to help him. The thought that perhaps Renrou wasn't entirely in control of himself gnawed at him. There was something more at play, something Nicolas feared he wouldn't be able to stop.
As the eve of the Blood Moon approached, the village grew quieter. The usual hustle of the marketplace slowed, and people spent more time in their homes, preparing for what was to come.
Nicolas found himself standing outside, staring up at the sky, where the first sliver of the Blood Moon had just begun to appear. His heart pounded in his chest, his mind filled with a hundred thoughts. He was ready—at least, he hoped he was. But there was a part of him that feared what was coming, not just from the Wesen, but from Renrou.
Renrou stood beside him, his eyes fixed on the moon as well, his face impassive. But Nicolas knew him well enough to see the tension in his shoulders, the way his fists clenched at his sides. There was a darkness in Renrou that hadn't been there before, something that was growing stronger with each passing day.
"Tomorrow," Renrou said quietly, his voice barely audible over the wind, "everything changes."
Nicolas didn't respond. He didn't need to. He could feel it too. Tomorrow, under the Blood Moon, their lives would change forever.
Inside his home, Garen sat by the fire, his face shadowed by the flickering flames. He knew the Blood Moon would bring challenges, as it always had. But this time, something felt different. He glanced at the door, where his son and Nicolas stood outside. There was a storm brewing, one he wasn't sure they were ready for.
And so, the village waited, the air thick with anticipation, as the Blood Moon slowly rose in the sky, heralding the beginning of something none of them could predict.
As the Blood Moon crept higher in the sky, its crimson hue cast an eerie glow over the village of Vennet. The night, once peaceful, now felt heavy with an oppressive atmosphere. The cold autumn winds swept through the streets, carrying the scent of drying leaves and wood smoke, but also something darker—a hint of decay, a foreboding sign of what was to come. The sky above, once dotted with stars, was swallowed by swirling clouds that seemed to part only for the sinister red moon. Its light bathed everything in an otherworldly, blood-tinged glow, turning the once warm autumn landscape into a scene from a nightmare.
Nicolas and Renrou stood outside, bathed in the light of the Blood Moon, their breaths visible in the cold night air. The silence between them was suffocating, broken only by the wind rustling the trees and the distant hoot of an owl. Nicolas glanced at Renrou, sensing something was wrong. Renrou's face was still impassive, his eyes locked on the moon, but his jaw was clenched tightly, and there was a tension in his stance that made Nicolas uneasy.
After what felt like an eternity, they turned and headed back inside, where Garen sat by the fire, his face illuminated by the flickering flames. The warmth of the hearth did little to chase away the coldness that had seeped into the night. Garen's eyes followed them as they entered, his expression one of quiet concern. He sat on a worn wooden stool, his hands clasped together in front of him, deep in thought. The room was small and sparse, but the fire cast long shadows across the walls, making the space feel even more confined.
Time seemed to drag painfully slow. making Garen restless. The weight of the Blood Moon pressed on him, filling him with an unease he hadn't felt in years. He stood abruptly, his stool creaking beneath him, and without saying much, he moved toward the door. "Stay inside," he told Nicolas and Renrou, his voice firm but laced with tension. "I'll be back soon."
Nicolas wanted to ask where he was going, but the look in Garen's eyes told him not to. He simply nodded, watching as Garen slipped out the door into the night.
Outside, Garen walked the familiar paths of the village, his boots crunching over dried leaves as the cold wind bit at his face. The village was unusually still. Even the animals seemed to sense the danger in the air, retreating into their shelters. Garen could feel the eyes of the other villagers peering out from their homes, watching him as he walked past. The village was holding its breath, waiting for the night to pass like it had every other year under the Blood Moon.
But as he passed the couple of houses, a piercing scream cut through the night like a blade. It echoed through the streets, chilling Garen to his core. The scream was sharp, full of terror, and it came from inside the his home. Without thinking, Garen rushed toward the sound, his heart pounding in his chest.
Back in Garen's house, Nicolas froze. He had heard the scream too, and it filled him with a cold dread. He turned to Renrou, because the sound came from his friend. Renrou was standing still, his gaze fixed on the ground, his body trembling. "Renrou?" Nicolas asked cautiously, but there was no response.