The temperature in the chamber shifted.
Not from the wind, or flame, but from something else. The kind of pressure that made the hairs on the back of one's neck rise.
A soft humming sound came from the stone walls. Then, suddenly, the great double doors at the end of the council hall flung open with a sudden crack of force and a pale silver mist slipped through the door.
A swirling gust of wind followed and there she was. Draped in shadow-colored robes embroidered with silver moons, Ninzu stepped inside. Her presence was unnerving not because she was monstrous, infact she was beautiful, but because she was otherworldly. Ageless. Her long dark hair fell in waves, and her eyes glowed violet, as if she could see everything.
Even your soul.
Ambassador Thane muttered a prayer under his breath.
Queen Maravelle's face tightened, clearly displeased by the unannounced entrance. "You were summoned, not crowned."
Ninzu turned to her. "And yet I arrived before your fear did."
The queen frowned.
"Ninzu," Thornak greeted, remaining standing. "Thank you for coming."
"I arrive late, but never too late." She said smoothly. her voice like smoke rolling across water. Her gaze falling on the Scorched cloth upon the table. "Blood called. I answered."
Her fingers hovered over it but not touching it. Then a low hum filled the room, faint but unmistakable. The cloth glowed beneath her hand, reacting to her presence as if recognizing her power. The glow of the burned symbols deepened-blood-red.
Ninzu's voice was barely above a whisper, yet everyone heard it. "This is part of a ritual, to find someone," she said. "Someone with a bloodline tied to a power sealed long ago. Someone who is hidden by magic."
The council shifted uneasily. She closed her eyes, drawing in a breath as though tasting the air around the Scorched cloth. Her lips parted slightly, and a second later, her eyes snapped open, now glowing faintly with threads of silver.
"Whoever performed it knew exactly who or what they were targeting."
"Who are they targeting?" Thornak asked.
"That, your majesty," Ninzu said, standing upright again, her fingers curling into a loose fist, "is the question."
"What does this sorcerer want." Thornak asked.
Ninzu turned sharply to him, her eyes suddenly turned white as though she was in a different place.
"He intends to bind rogue wolves and bend them to his will. He doesn't just give them orders. He binds their instincts. kills their fear, suppresses pain, fuels rage. I can tell you this, whoever did this has not finished, for he intends to do the opening ritual."
"Opening to what?" asked Lady Merel.
Ninzu's gaze met hers, sharp as a dagger. "A door. One that should never be opened."
"What is behind this door?" Thornak asked.
"The door is a vault both sanctuary and prison, created to house relics too powerful for mortal hands. It was bound by the will of the Moon Goddess and keyed only to the bloodline she had chosen. Only a rightful heir, awakened and guided by a guardian, could unlock its full potential. Any other attempt would risk catastrophe."
"What is in this... vault." Thornak asked.
"In the sealed vault lies the divine essence of the Moon Goddess herself, passed down through the royal bloodline. The Moonfire Core. A celestial crystal that holds the purest form of lunar magic. It was used by the Guardians to bless their warriors, shape the moonlit defenses of their kingdom, and keep the balance of power across the supernatural realms."
She walked forward towards the king.
"If the sorcerer gains access, they can corrupt this power into something twisted: chaotic, eternal night, and full control over lesser wolves and night-born creatures."
Thornak leaned forward. "Has this door been opened before?"
"Yes," she replied darkly. "And the last time it was opened, an entire kingdom fell."
Gasps rippled through the chamber.
"What kingdom?" Thornak asked.
Ninzu's eyes did not move from the smoldering cloth, her fingers still hovering just above it. "One that no longer exists on any map," she said quietly. "Its name, like its people, was erased from memory. Only ruins remain. Moonguard."
Gasps rippled.
"We all know what happened to the Moonguard," Queen Maravelle said coolly, fingers tapping the arm of her chair. "They ruled over werewolves and Lycans alike, until they were corrupted. Some turned to rogues and tore their own kingdom down."
Ninzu did not blink.
"Let me tell you a story," she said, her voice low , "is that Moonguard, those born of moonlight were bound to divine fire to rule. Their power did not come from ambition, but from balance. A sacred harmony with the Vault."
She turned her gaze to the queen, whose irritation rippled beneath a mask of control.
"But not all hearts are content with balance," Ninzu continued, her voice sharpening.
"A prince, royal-blooded and Moonguard-born, turned against his kin. Envy perhaps or ambition, I do not know. He was seduced by a sorcerer who promised more. They believed the Vault held power unshaped, unimaginable. And so they broke the sacred law. They performed forbidden rites, spilling blood, stealing a true name… and the Vault answered."
She let the silence settle like dust before continuing.
"But only the true heir can wield the Moonfire Core. When they forced it open, it flared once, and then… the flame died."
Her voice dropped to a hush.
"The Moonfire Core, the very breath of the Moonguard, went dark. Their strength vanished. The Guardians lost their tether to divinity. They were no longer gods among wolves. Just laying in wait to fall. The Lycans, their protectors abandoned them."
Queen Maravelle's reply came sharp and cold. "You speak of fairy tales."
Ninzu's gaze did not flicker. "Fairy tales you say? I have seen it. Fairy tales do not twist the winds or stir the bones of the land. What you call legend," she said, eyes glowing faintly with silver light, "I call history. History written in blood. And history... does not like to be ignored."
She let the silence stretch, heavy with meaning, then added in a voice barely above a whisper, "The last time your kind dismissed the warnings, a whole kingdom fell. If we repeat their arrogance, we may not survive what wakes next."