The Loss Of Selene
An ominous sky darkening to the colours of a blood moon.
Thousands of thunderous footsteps chaotically hitting the ground like an unscripted and violent dance, fills everyone's ears as the battle rages on.
Trees shattering, hurling their reddened splinters in retaliation at nearby victims, as bodies were thrown around like ragdolls.
The now shaking forest, trying its best to hide all the desperate sounds of screams, growls and death filling the thickening air from the outside world. The surrounding lakes aiding it's forest by swallowing the remaining echoes.
Selene looked at all her people, the people she was made to protect. Searching for the familiarity of the kindness she once instilled in their faces and hearts, but found no such thing in the creatures still breathing. None of the faces she looked apon were recognizable, covered with the now drying red war paint masking every inch of their features. They all looked the same. Vampires looked like wolves. Wolves looked like witches. Witches looked like vampires. Only the panthers lay there loosing her love as the life drained from their eyes. The sour, metallic taste of their jealousy is all that is left, smothering her tongue. What had gone wrong? Her heart ached as she watched the body count of this bloody battle increase with every passing second.
The stench of blood rising from every body that dropped lifelessly to the now saturated ground.
A faint cry floating below the sounds of the battle, somewhere behind her, catching her off guard. She turns, determined to find its source.
The sole purpose of this war was to irradicate the panther shifters. A royal, matriarch of pure bloods. The Moon Goddess's direct descendants and warriors.
And that is exactly what they did.
In a time of great peace and unity, where all supernaturals considered each other closely as family, there was a stir of unspoken jealousy amongst them. The nations of werewolves, vampires and witches alike didn't think that it was fair that the panthers were gifted with so much power. Forgetting, that with power came great responsibilities.
450 years ago this war took place. All covens, clans and packs took their stand against the powerful panthers and came out triumphant.
But at what cost? No thought was given to the consequences of their actions.
It was the bloodiest war in all the supernatural history, with an even more disaterous and bloody aftermath.
This was the war that saw the last of Selene, the Moon Goddess.
A life that saw vampires mistrusting and hating the wolves. Wolves at constant battle with witches. Witches cursing vampires. Total chaos, heartache of unlawful mating bonds, punishments and hatred on a whole new level.
This new life of hatred gave birth to hunters and rogues, who would hunt down anyone who still had faith in the Moon Goddess. Evil with a single purpose...
Thousands of thunderous footsteps chaotically hitting the ground like an unscripted and violent dance, fills everyone's ears as the battle rages on.
Trees shattering, hurling their reddened splinters in retaliation at nearby victims, as bodies were thrown around like ragdolls.
The now shaking forest, trying its best to hide all the desperate sounds of screams, growls and death filling the thickening air from the outside world. The surrounding lakes aiding it's forest by swallowing the remaining echoes.
Selene looked at all her people, the people she was made to protect. Searching for the familiarity of the kindness she once instilled in their faces and hearts, but found no such thing in the creatures still breathing. None of the faces she looked apon were recognizable, covered with the now drying red war paint masking every inch of their features. They all looked the same. Vampires looked like wolves. Wolves looked like witches. Witches looked like vampires. Only the panthers lay there loosing her love as the life drained from their eyes. The sour, metallic taste of their jealousy is all that is left, smothering her tongue. What had gone wrong? Her heart ached as she watched the body count of this bloody battle increase with every passing second.
The stench of blood rising from every body that dropped lifelessly to the now saturated ground.
A faint cry floating below the sounds of the battle, somewhere behind her, catching her off guard. She turns, determined to find its source.
The sole purpose of this war was to irradicate the panther shifters. A royal, matriarch of pure bloods. The Moon Goddess's direct descendants and warriors.
And that is exactly what they did.
In a time of great peace and unity, where all supernaturals considered each other closely as family, there was a stir of unspoken jealousy amongst them. The nations of werewolves, vampires and witches alike didn't think that it was fair that the panthers were gifted with so much power. Forgetting, that with power came great responsibilities.
450 years ago this war took place. All covens, clans and packs took their stand against the powerful panthers and came out triumphant.
But at what cost? No thought was given to the consequences of their actions.
It was the bloodiest war in all the supernatural history, with an even more disaterous and bloody aftermath.
This was the war that saw the last of Selene, the Moon Goddess.
A life that saw vampires mistrusting and hating the wolves. Wolves at constant battle with witches. Witches cursing vampires. Total chaos, heartache of unlawful mating bonds, punishments and hatred on a whole new level.
This new life of hatred gave birth to hunters and rogues, who would hunt down anyone who still had faith in the Moon Goddess. Evil with a single purpose...
