⚜ Prolouge ⚜
Thousands of years ago, the Moon goddess created werewolves by dividing her power into three equal halves resulting in the Brown, Black and White wolves. All the wolves lived in the Moon God Continent, each of one kind in their own pack and home.
She loved her children all the same and did not discriminate between any of them. So, each kind had their own strengths and their own weaknesses.
From her valour and strength the Black wolves were born. With mane as dark as charred coal and with orbs which shone of molten gold, the Black furry wolves were the other definition for brute strength and power. Brave hearts and Fearless warriors, the Black wolves were hailed as such. It is said that darkness is their ally and none could defeat a Black wolf in the night. Thus came the name, Nightfall Pride pack.
The Brown wolves born out of her astuteness and sharpness were blessed with heightened senses than the other wolves. They possessed the ability to become one with the nature. None could spot a brown wolf in the woods, not even a vampire could,or so the legends say. With emerald eyes which reminded one of mother nature and the serene woods, the Brown wolves resembled the dawn, a new beginning and a beautiful ending. Thus came the name, The Dawn Pack.
While the Black and Brown wolves are created out of thoughtfulness and planning, the White wolves were created out of a whim, from a wisp of anger and love entwined. Under the moon which draped a blood red veil, the Moon Goddess created White wolves at the time she lost her other half. Created out the Moon Goddess's emotional havoc, the White wolves were the epitome of destruction driven by love. Driven by love, White wolves can be a nightmare for their enemies. And, the same love which acts as their strength can also be the bane of their existence. Born under the Blood Moon, there is no suitable name for the White wolves other than the Blood Moon pack.
All the wolves lived in peace and harmony until one fateful day. It was the day which had changed the history of the Moon God Continent, one which was mourned till date. It was the tenth year of the moon and for the first time the wolves tasted fear, in the form of a handsome and a lunatic wizard.
His magic was a curse while he was an ill omen, his silent arrival announced by the grotesque cries of the ravens which he proudly called as a ballad honoring his arrival.
‘The song of Death.’ the wizard had named the ravens cries thus and it couldn't have been named better.
A single wave of his hand was what destroyed the towering majestic structures of their home, those which once stood tall and proud, now in mud and dust. The words that slipped from his full lips killed man, woman and child, none spared to tell the frightening tale.
The Black wolves were annihilated in the night and the blood of the Brown wolves painted the woods red. Frightened by his powers and scared for their lives, the Black and Brown wolves left the Moon God Continent with all those who were alive to a world call Earth.
Now, it was only the White wolves who were left behind, like an exquisite dish laid out by the gourmet to feast upon. Though deserted by allies in the last moment, the White wolves never had the thought of leaving their home. It took the great elder of the Blood Moon Pack, the then royal highness of the White Wolves sacrifice his life to kill the wizard.
No battle is smooth, and only a few hundreds of the initial thousands were left in the pack.
The Wizard had not fallen in vain.
Before his final fall into the abyss of death, he whispered ‘From this day, the White wolf you were so proud of will fall into an eternal slumber. No man, woman or child having the Blood Moon Pack bloodline will ever be to awaken his wolf. Oh! And, no love can break this curse, only a painful death can!’
How can death break a curse? It is only an end to the torment of the soul!
It was as clear as day that the wizard did not want the white wolves to regain their glory, he wanted them to suffer for all the eternity.
He had cursed the Blood Moon Pack.
He had cursed the White wolves, tearing off them from their wolf, a part of their soul will now lay unknown in the deepest recess of their minds.
Thus, the cursed White wolves stayed back in the Moon God Continent while the Black and Brown wolves flourished on the earth.
...
Hundreds and thousands of years passed from the fateful battle, the White wolves now becoming a forgotten existence to all the werewolves on earth.
Until one fateful day, the day when history began to repeat itself.
