Bloodbound Trials

The villagers always locked their doors before the crimson moon rose.

No one questioned the ritual anymore.

Children were taught from the moment they could speak that when the moon bled across the night sky, no one should wander beyond the village walls. Travelers who ignored the warning rarely returned, and those who did came back with haunted eyes and stories that no one dared repeat.

Ariana never believed those tales.

She had grown up hearing whispers of monsters, curses, and forgotten kingdoms, but she trusted what she could see, not what frightened people imagined in the dark.

Tonight, however, the air felt different.

An uneasy silence settled over the village of Black Hollow as the last rays of sunlight disappeared behind the mountains. Merchants abandoned their stalls earlier than usual. Mothers hurried their children indoors. Even the blacksmith extinguished the great furnace before sunset.

By the time the first crimson glow painted the heavens, every window had been shuttered.

Every window except Ariana's.

She stood beside it, watching the strange moon climb above the distant forest.

It looked larger than she remembered.

Darker.

Almost alive.

A soft knock interrupted her thoughts.

Her grandmother entered carrying a small wooden box wrapped in faded cloth.

"You are still awake."

Ariana smiled.

"I could not sleep."

The old woman placed the box on the table and slowly approached the window.

The moment she saw the crimson moon, all warmth vanished from her face.

She quietly pulled the curtains closed.

"Some things are better left unseen."

"You have said that every year."

"And every year I hope you will finally listen."

Ariana sat beside the fire.

"What are you so afraid of?"

Her grandmother remained silent for a long moment.

Then she looked toward the old wooden box.

"When I am gone, promise me you will never leave this village."

Ariana laughed softly.

"You speak as though danger is waiting just outside the gate."

"It is."

The certainty in the old woman's voice erased Ariana's smile.

Before she could respond, another knock echoed through the house.

Three slow taps.

Then silence.

Her grandmother froze.

"No one should be outside."

The knocking came again.

This time louder.

Ariana stood.

"I will see who it is."

The old woman grabbed her wrist with surprising strength.

"Do not open that door."

"But what if someone needs help?"

"Especially then."

The room became still.

The fire crackled quietly.

Outside, the wind carried the distant cry of a raven.

Then a voice called from beyond the door.

"Ariana."

She frowned.

The voice sounded familiar.

Very familiar.

It sounded exactly like her father's.

But that was impossible.

Her father had died when she was five years old.

She slowly stepped closer to the entrance.

"Ariana."

The voice came again.

Gentle.

Patient.

Almost pleading.

Her grandmother's grip tightened.

"That is not your father."

Ariana's heartbeat quickened.

"How do you know?"

"Because I buried him myself."

The words struck like ice.

The knocking stopped.

For several moments, nothing happened.

Then came the unmistakable sound of footsteps circling the house.

One by one.

Slowly.

As if someone outside were searching for another way in.

The lantern flames flickered.

A sudden gust burst through the chimney, filling the room with ash.

The wooden box on the table rattled violently.

Its lid sprang open.

Inside rested a silver pendant carved with the shape of a wolf surrounded by flames.

The instant Ariana looked at it, a sharp pain shot through her chest.

Images flooded her mind.

A battlefield beneath a blood red sky.

A palace consumed by fire.

A woman wearing a crimson crown whispering through tears.

"Protect my daughter."

The vision ended as suddenly as it began.

Ariana gasped for breath.

The pendant lifted from the box without anyone touching it.

It floated through the air and settled gently into her trembling hands.

At that exact moment, a deafening crash echoed outside.

The front gate splintered.

Heavy footsteps approached the house.

Her grandmother's face turned pale.

"They have found you."

Before Ariana could ask what she meant, the old woman hurried to a loose stone beneath the fireplace and pulled out an ancient iron key.

She forced it into Ariana's palm.

"There is a passage beneath the old chapel."

"What is happening?"

"You must leave now."

"I am not leaving without you."

"There is no time."

Another crash shook the walls.

Something struck the front door so hard that the wooden frame cracked.

Dust rained from the ceiling.

Her grandmother cupped Ariana's face with trembling hands.

"There is something I should have told you many years ago."

A tear rolled down her weathered cheek.

"You were never meant to grow up as an ordinary girl."

The final bolt snapped.

The front door burst inward.

A tall figure cloaked in black stepped through the smoke.

His face remained hidden beneath a hood.

Only his glowing crimson eyes could be seen.

He looked directly at Ariana.

Then, in a calm voice that chilled her to the bone, he spoke.

"Your Highness."

The pendant around Ariana's neck erupted with silver light.

And the entire house disappeared in a blinding flash.