In another world
The halls of House Vaelthorne were vast and regal, adorned with emerald banners embroidered with a black wolf entwined in vines—the symbol of their noble lineage. Moonlight spilled through the arched windows, casting a soft silver glow across the polished stone floors.
In the heart of this grand estate, within the warmth of the Lady's Chambers, a young boy lay tucked beneath silken blankets, his dark hair messy from play, his obsidian eyes wide with curiosity.
His mother sat beside him, her delicate fingers running through his hair with a touch so gentle, it felt like moonlight itself.
"Tell me a story, Mother," young Alistair murmured, nestling closer to her warmth.
Lady Seraphina Vaelthorne, the graceful yet formidable matriarch of their house, smiled as she gazed upon her son. Her silver-blonde hair shimmered in the candlelight, and her blue eyes—so much like Celestia's—held a warmth that only he knew.
She pulled him closer, wrapping her arms around his small frame. Her embrace was his sanctuary.
"A story, is it?" she mused, her voice carrying the soft cadence of a lullaby. "Then let me tell you the tale of our world, Eldoria… and the gods who shape it."
Alistair's eyes sparkled with excitement.
"Will you tell me about Artemis?"
Seraphina chuckled. "Of course, my love. But first, you must understand the world she watches over."
And so, she began.
---
The Gods of Eldoria
"Our world, Eldoria, is a vast and wondrous place," Seraphina said, brushing a stray lock of hair from Alistair's face. "It is filled with kingdoms and empires, each ruled by nobles, warriors, and mages, striving for power and purpose."
She raised her hand, and a soft green glow flickered from her fingertips. Vines of emerald light coiled in the air, weaving images as she spoke.
"There are many races—humans, elves, dwarves, vampires, and even the mighty dragons. But above all, there are the Constellations—the gods and divine beings who grant their blessings to the worthy."
Alistair's small fingers traced the glowing vines, mesmerized. "Are all gods the same?"
Seraphina shook her head. "No, little one. The gods are as different as the stars in the sky."
She gestured, and the green vines shifted, forming three great pantheons.
"There are the Celestial Gods, who watch over the world and bring order, wisdom, and justice."
The vines shaped into Odin, Zeus, and Ra, their divine presence radiating strength.
"There are the Abyssal Constellations, ancient beings of chaos, destruction, and forbidden power."
The vines darkened, forming the ominous silhouettes of The Ever-Hungering Maw, The Abyssal Monarch, and Nyx, the Goddess of Eternal Darkness.
Alistair shivered. "They look scary…"
Seraphina pressed a kiss to his forehead. "Because power without love is terrifying, my son."
She let the images fade before conjuring one last vision—a silver crescent moon.
"And then, there are the Primordial Deities—those who stand between light and darkness, neither bound by order nor chaos. They are the watchers of fate, the guardians of balance."
Alistair's gaze locked onto the crescent moon. He didn't need to ask.
He already knew who it belonged to.
"Artemis."
Seraphina smiled, pleased by his understanding.
---
"Artemis, the Moon Huntress, is the one who blessed our family," she explained, her voice soft with reverence. "She is the goddess of the wilds, nature, the hunt, and the moon itself."
"She must be very strong," Alistair murmured.
"She is," Seraphina agreed. "But her strength is not just in battle. She watches over the lost, the hunted, and those who protect instead of conquer. That is why she chose House Vaelthorne."
She traced her finger over his small palm, where a faint silver mark—a crescent moon—rested against his skin.
"This is the Mark of Artemis," she whispered. "It is why our bloodline is gifted with Nature Magic, why we can command the flora and move like shadows in the woods. It is why the wolves of the wild do not fear us."
Alistair curled his fingers into a fist. "Does that mean I'll be strong one day?"
Seraphina's lips curved into a knowing smile.
"Strength is not just about power, my love," she said, cupping his cheek. "It is about understanding what you wish to protect."
Alistair tilted his head. "What do you protect, Mother?"
She leaned down, pressing her forehead against his.
"You."
His small fingers clutched the fabric of her gown, warmth blooming in his chest.
Seraphina kissed his forehead, smoothing his hair with a tenderness no one else would ever show him.
"One day, you will be strong," she whispered. "You will command the battlefield like your father. You will wield nature's might like the greatest of mages. And when that day comes…"
She cupped his chin, her gaze unwavering.
"…Promise me, Alistair. Promise me that no matter how powerful you become, you will never forget what truly matters."
Alistair hesitated.
"And what is that?"
Her smile softened.
"Love."
Alistair didn't understand it then.
Didn't realize that this moment—this lesson—would one day be the very thing that shattered him.
For now, he only knew one thing.
"I promise, Mother."
Seraphina smiled, stroking his hair as his eyes grew heavy with sleep.
She held him close, whispering one last thing before he drifted away into dreams.
"Sleep well, my little wolf."
And in that moment—under the watchful moonlight of Artemis—Alistair Vaelthorne felt truly safe.
For the first, and last, time in his life.
---