Cold, bitter winds whistled across the bleak landscape, ripping at treetops and whipping the dry leaves before them into maddening spirals. The moon, a bloody crescent, sagged low in the night sky, its pale light casting an unnatural glow over the sleeping earth. From afar came the howling of a wolf, a sharp, piercing sound as if something on the other side was being called.
Elias stood at the edge of the cliff, staring upwards at the moon above. It was the blood moon night, the night when the ancient prophecy was to come alive. He could feel it in his bones, a heavy pressure pressed upon his chest, not letting him breathe. His breath came out in shallow bursts, and his heart was running a marathon in his chest as if it knew what was waiting.
For years, he had heard the stories: legends of a curse passed down his bloodline-of a transformation that would come with the rising of the blood moon. He had always thought they were mere fairy tales, stories concocted to scare children. But now, standing on the precipice of destiny, he knew better.
The curse was real. And he was the one chosen to bear it.
Elias's fists clenched at his sides, and his muscles flexed as if to spring. Moonlight seemed to ripple across his skin, letting out the weird energy inside him. It was as if the earth was alive, screaming at him, asking him to give in to the blood inside him. He felt it, this strange, wild energy beating on the edges of his brain, trying to get loose.
A change had to come. That mark had appeared on his wrist when he was a child-a weird, twisting symbol that had seemed no more than a birthmark then. But now, it was glowing faintly, pulsating to a rhythmic beat that seemed to synchronize with his heartbeat. The mark, much like the moon above, was a sign. A warning.
He wasn't alone.
A figure emerged from the darkness out there, stepping to the cliffside beside him. Elias didn't need to turn and knew just who it was: his brother, Rowan, stood behind him, the same heavy, dark energy radiating off of him that was slowly consuming Elias.
Tonight's the night," Rowan said in a low tone, steady with quiet resolve. "The blood moon is upon us.
Elias nodded, silent. He didn't know how to answer. No words could frame what happened; no explanations could be adequate to ease the gut-twisting fear inside. This wasn't just a physical metamorphosis but something deeper and hardwired. A part of him always knew this night was destined. But he was never going to be ready for that-which nobody was, of course.
The howls of wolves were louder, closer now, it seemed, as if feeling the change that was soon to come. Elias tensed his body, heightening his senses, the world around him alive to his notice. Every sound sounded keener, more defined, it seemed. He could hear the rustle of wind through the trees, the distant ripple of water running through a brook, and-most disturbingly-the pounding of his own heart.
A soft, glowing light began to seep from his chest, spreading out in intricate patterns that twisted like the symbols of some ancient language. The mark on his wrist burned, growing hotter by the second it seemed. Elias let out a hiss, his knees buckling slightly as the energy surged through him.
Stepping forward, Rowan steadied him as Elias faltered, his presence firm as Elias struggled to contain himself. "The moon is rising," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "It's time."
Suddenly, a searing pain knifed through Elias's body, and he gasped, his bones aching as though something deep inside was waking, stretching, growing. His skin tingled with heat, and his senses blew wide. The world around him pulsed with life, every color more vivid, every sound more distinct. His teeth ached as his canines elongated, sharp and predatory. His fingers twisted, nails growing into claws scraping against the stone beneath him.
The transformation was happening. And there was no stopping it.
Elias went down to his knees, huffing wildly as his body buckled under the strain of his change. Skin burst open, muscles ripped, but the beast within him tugged for freedom. He could feel it now, this desperate urge to run, hunt-to allow these animalistic instincts running riot inside him to finally take hold of him.
"Hold on, Elias," Rowan said in an eerily calm tone. "You can do this."
But he was not so sure he could. The pain raged, unendurable; his body shrieked in agony, pleading for release. His mind reeled, his brain pitted in a fierce battle against the tide of bestial instincts that threatened to engulf him. He wanted to be in control, yet the beast was too strong inside him. And it was hungry.
He dug his claws into the earth beneath him, his fists clenched as the transformation reached its zenith. Muscles stretched, growing, reshaping; he felt his spine extend, his legs extend, his body elongating into something no longer human. The world twisted in his vision, a mad kaleidoscope of light and shadow; then his vision clarified. The pain was gone, replaced by a sense of power and clarity that was overwhelming.
His senses flared: the feel of the earth beneath, wind rushing through fur, the pulse of life around him. He could hear the heartbeat of every living creature in the forest, the quick frantic rhythms of the smaller animals, the slow steady pulse of the trees themselves. And above it all, he could feel the moon, its pull drawing him deeper into the transformation.
It was then that he heard it-the sound of movement, the soft rustling of footsteps behind him. He turned, his eyes aglow with that eerie yellow light, and saw across from him a silhouette of Rowan standing there, watching him with an unreadable expression.
"You have done it," Rowan said with softness. "Embraced it."
Elias-no longer Elias, not as he once had been-felt the power surge inside his body, overwhelming, intoxicating. Gone were the confusion and fear that had occupied his mind; the beast was no longer something to fear but a part of him he could handle. His thoughts were no longer of his own but those of the wolf's. He could feel its hunger, its need to hunt. It was wild, untamed, and free.
But with this great power came a tiring burden.
"You have a choice," Rowan said, stepping forward. "The blood moon has risen. The curse is now yours to bear, but it is not all-powerful. You can use it to protect, to hunt, or you can let it consume you. You have the power to shape your destiny, Elias. But remember, the price is steep.
Elias straightened up to his full height, his body complete now in beastly form. He could feel the power in him, a rush of strength surging through his veins; the world felt small beneath his feet, as if he could crush it with but a step. Still, a warning in Rowan's voice came to his mind, that this power did not come without its price.
Elias turned from his brother with a growl. The urge to run, to hunt, filled him. The moon was full, the beast as well. No choice existed for him anymore.