And it all started in the pale moonlight . . .

271 years have passed since the first time: the first time she saw through new eyes; the first time she heard clearly the true music of the forest; the first time she tasted blood merely from the scent of a fresh kill.
In 271 years the world of men has changed with the ebb and flow of time – wars have been fought, battles won, empires built and brought to ruin. Time has had its way with the human race, but not with her. Then again, she never once was a part of the human race.

Call her a Lycanthrope, a Therian; one thing is for certain:

Lunaera Sylvarii is not your average werewolf.
* * * * *


There was no telling in the beginning, no signs that she was anything but a normal child – not to her. Unbeknownst to the small girl born in the year 1724 was that her 13th birthday meant a lot more than the coming of age and into womanhood, but she wouldn’t know until that fateful night.
Her mother had still been alive then, a tall slender woman with auburn hair that seemed to shine no matter how little light shone on it. She had spent the morning braiding tiny flowers into Lunaera’s long, unruly ringlets whilst singing a haunting wordless lullaby. She had seemed very sad that day to Lunaera, it was strange for her mother to be quite silent and melancholy. The young girl presumed that it was the thought of her only daughter growing up which was causing this upset to her mother and knew that the next day everything would be back to normal again.
On the other hand her father, the great Mordicravius Morvadum, Lord of the Sylvarii Estate, had been full of merriment for the upcoming celebration. The great hall had been decorated on his orders and a banquet laid out on the great tables. He had musicians and jesters, all members of the Estate, providing entertainment all during the celebration. Lunaera could never remember any time in the past when he had given her so much attention or praise, and he had promised her a special ceremony at midnight – just herself, her mother and he.

In the half hour before midnight Lunaera could barely contain her excitement, her skin was tingling as if the very air was full of electricity. It was cool out, a slight breeze whispering in the night.
She had been led by her parents through a forested part of the estate she’d never been to before until they stopped in a clearing lit by the pale light of the moon. Her parents told her to stand in the middle of the clearing where the moonlight would shine upon her, which she did obediently; she felt she would burst with the electricity of the excitement filling her. Moments passed in which nothing happened, she stood there alone in the centre wondering what was supposed to take place, her excitement slowly fading. The clearing had darkened, filling with shadows - a lone cloud streaking across the silent moon.
It occurred when the moonlight once more bathed her form. A pain that seemed to burst from deep within, as if from her very soul. A colossal pain that wracked her body in waves forcing her to her hands and knees screaming demonically into the night. The pain burrowed into her mind blindingly almost rendering her unconscious.
But being unconscious would have been a blessing.
She felt each bone in her body breaking and reshaping, breaking and reshaping, each time the bones reforming and become more elongated and unnatural. Every ligament in her body was ripped apart and sewn into a new form as she writhed on all fours, each new wave forcing her to take excruciating stretches as her body forced itself into a new shape. Her body was on fire, and then the waves of pain gradually began to shorten and recede as quickly as they had started. Lunaera’s body felt heavier and clumsier but the newfound energy that coursed through her was incredible. As the fire burning through her dissipated she could feel the strength of her new muscles and the agility that her new form would give her. Feeling more alive than ever before she stood, tall and proud, and howled towards the bright moon in the twilit sky.
Lunaera turned to face her parents and wasn’t shocked to see that they too had taken on forms like her newfound one. Her father came towards her smiling with arms held open, and, in the moment that he embraced her, whispered into her ear, “Be not afraid my glorious daughter, but be proud for you are pure born – you are Lycan!”