FAZER LOGINSYLARI
They say the Moon chooses us. That when the stars align and your eighteenth year settles into your bones, you’ll feel it, this pull, this becoming. The shift isn’t just muscle and fur. It’s a revelation, proof that the Moon Goddess has seen you, claimed you, and called you worthy. But I am eighteen now....and the moon....it never came for me. ******************************** For the first time in my life, they dressed me in silk. Soft, silver silk like my eyes, embroidered with tiny moons and stars, symbols of hope, they said, of strength and of rebirth. The entire Crescent Fang court buzzed with excitement. They said prayers to the Moon Goddess, and wove spells into the hem of my robes, they hummed lullabies I never remembered anyone singing to me. It was absurd how hope could bloom in the ugliest soil, Tessa the young but now old maid who had always tucked scraps of bread under my bed when no one watched, and cleaned my bruises without being told. She brushed my hair that morning with trembling hands. “Maybe today, my child,” she whispered, planting a kiss on my forehead, “You’ll rise with a howl and make them regret everything.” I let out a faint smile, but deep down I felt it, this wasn't my day of redemption. Even the guards, those quiet watchers who never spoke when I was dragged down bloodied corridors offered small nods, some looked away quickly, ashamed to be caught caring, while others gave me fleeting glances, heavy with prayers they dared not voice. After all, I was the firstborn, the daughter of General Aldrich of the Crescent Fang and my shift day was meant to be sacred no matter how accursed I was claimed to be....that was the tradition, that was the rule. The arena glowed under the moon’s full gaze, and the stands were packed. Elders, nobles, and warriors. My brothers sat smugly at the front, cloaked in arrogance, their faces covered with smirks they did not bother hiding, and my father.... he sat like a carved statue of rage and pride, high above all, watching with me with keen eyes but a cold expression. The drums slowed and the crowd silenced, then a priestess chanted in Old Lunarian, calling forth the ancestral spirits. And then....nothing. I stood at the center of it all, the moonlight burning down on me like judgment incarnate. My bones ached, my blood tingled and my soul reached for anything, but no shift came. No fur, no claws, no howling wolf tearing through my skin and spine to claim her place. I close my eyes. I call. I beg, reaching to the in-depths of my soul. Nothing comes, no burn under my skin. No surge. No voice. Just deafening silence. And in that silence, I knew that the Moon had forgotten me. I didn’t cry or speak, I merely stood there, still and hollow, like I already knew this was going to happen but too afraid to admit it. The whispers began immediately. "She didn’t even twitch...." "She’s cursed, I told you...." "Moonless mutt." “Nothing? Not even a beta?” “Didn’t I say she was cursed?” “Why waste a ceremony on a ghost?” "What a shame to the Crescent blood line" "She's doom's incarnate" One voice broke through louder than the others. “She’s mocking us, she thinks it’s a joke,” my second brother, Riko snapped as he stood, his eyes gleaming with the same cruelty that had been poured to me all through my life. “Guards, beat her for her insolence.” But before the guard could move, a deeper voice silenced the crowd. “Enough.” My father’s voice, was sharp and low, so much so it made the wind still. He stood up slowly, regal in his silence. Then....he stripped. First his ceremonial coat, then the golden rings, then the heavy fur robe lined with warrior sigils. Piece by piece, he shed his pride until only his bare torso remained, it was carved with scars and victories of a lifetime. The hall grew tense and confused. I had an idea of what was coming, but I didn't expect it. Then without a word, he transformed mid-stride. His bones cracked and his muscles swelled, his skin stretched and tore until fur covered him, pitch black with streaks of white like lightning trapped in darkness. He was enormous, terrifying, and every inch the beast that had built an empire through war and then he lunged at me. I didn’t move. His claws struck first across my cheek and I staggered, blood spewing from my cheek already and for the very first time in my life, my father hit me. The next swipe landed on my ribs, then another to my back, slamming me to the ground. Pain erupted in waves, hot and relentless, blood soaked into the sacred sand of the arena. The crowd didn’t cheer, they didn’t boo either, they just watched in silence....terrified silence. I heard Tessa scream my name, I heard sobs from somewhere in the back. Even Riko and Daren no longer looked entertained, their smirk had died. Father snarled in rage, but not battle rage....no, something colder and deeper. He shifted back into his human form mid-attack, breathing heavily, then grabbed me by the hair. “You shame me,” he spat in my face, blood from his knuckles dripping onto my chest. “You bring disgrace to our bloodline, you should’ve never been born.” "I wanted to believe that you could at least be of use when you shift, but no you remain a great disappoinment and the worst mistake of my days". "You killed your mother, and rejected by the gods themselves ". He spat, hitting my chest with his fist, I spat out more blood but he was far from stopping. He cursed me in English, then switched to Lunarian, they were words I couldn’t understand, but their venom was unmistakable. I tasted iron in my mouth and my vision blurred, he then dragged me by the hair across the floor like I was carcass, and with a snarl, he threw me like garbage against the stone wall of the arena. My head struck the surface with a loud, sickening crack. And then... darkness. ~ SYLARI ~ The footsteps got louder. Boots on stone, hurried and many. I tightened my grip on the crystal shard until the edges cut deeper into my palm. Blood ran warm down my wrist but I didn’t let go. I stepped over one of the bodies and moved closer to the open door. My legs felt steady even though my heart was still racing. I wasn’t going to wait in the corner like before.The first fae appeared in the doorway. Tall, armored the same as the dead ones, his blade already out. He saw the room, saw me standing there covered in blood, and stopped short. Behind him, more poured in. Five. Then seven. They spread out, filling the space, their eyes locked on me. One of them, older with silver in his hair, raised a hand to hold the others back. He looked at the bodies on the floor, then at the severed wing still twitching near the bed. “Who did this?” he asked. His voice was calm, but I heard the edge in it. I didn’t answer, I just watched him. He took a step closer. “Y
~ SYLARI ~ The door slammed shut behind him. I sat up fast on the bed, my heart already pounding. The room was dark except for the moonlight coming through the tall window. I could make out his shape moving closer–tall, his wings folded against his back, his eyes catching the light. He stopped at the foot of the bed. I felt his stare on me, heavy and sure of itself. “You dared me,” he said, voice low. He sounded almost amused. I didn’t answer right away. My throat was tight, but I forced myself to breathe steady. I wasn’t going to let him see how much this scared me. Not after everything back home. I’d survived worse than some fae who thought he could take what he wanted. I slid off the bed and stood. The nightgown hung loose, already torn from earlier. I didn’t try to cover up. Showing weakness wouldn’t help. He stepped forward. I stepped back until my shoulders hit the wall. Cold stone against my skin. He reached for me. I ducked under his arm and shoved him h
SYLARII woke up with a heavy ache in my skull, my body still full of deep bruises and cuts from last night's beating.But they didn’t wait for me to heal, not even a day.Chains bit into my wrists, but I didn’t care, each clink was a countdown to freedom, as the guards led me through the winding stone corridor, past grand arches and sneering nobles, I held my head high.Because this was it, this was my way out.Crescent Fang was behind me now, its halls soaked in my blood, the constant bruises, and a lifetime of cruelty. My father’s fists, and my brothers’ faces as they shattered my body, the sickening eyes of old men deciding what my worth was, all of it, was now behind me.And nothing.... absolutely nothing....could be worse than that.So when they dragged me onto the auction platform, I didn’t shrink back I stepped forward and allowed the cold wind to hit my blistered skin, I'm free from hell.Gasps fluttered through the crowd like startled birds.I knew what they saw: the Crescen
SYLARIThey say the Moon chooses us.That when the stars align and your eighteenth year settles into your bones, you’ll feel it, this pull, this becoming. The shift isn’t just muscle and fur. It’s a revelation, proof that the Moon Goddess has seen you, claimed you, and called you worthy.But I am eighteen now....and the moon....it never came for me.********************************For the first time in my life, they dressed me in silk.Soft, silver silk like my eyes, embroidered with tiny moons and stars, symbols of hope, they said, of strength and of rebirth.The entire Crescent Fang court buzzed with excitement. They said prayers to the Moon Goddess, and wove spells into the hem of my robes, they hummed lullabies I never remembered anyone singing to me.It was absurd how hope could bloom in the ugliest soil, Tessa the young but now old maid who had always tucked scraps of bread under my bed when no one watched, and cleaned my bruises without being told. She brushed my hair that mor
SYLARIAnother day.At sixteen, my life had already rotted into a cycle of cruelty and silence. I had grown into my body, curves were now where angles once were, soft features shaped by a childhood of hard fists and sharp words.My beauty, as they called it, became another curse. In the palace halls, I was no longer just the mute disappointment of a father who wished I'd never been born, I was a thing to be used, a temptation, and a toy.I was slapped if I spoke, kicked if I hesitated, and beaten if I couldn’t keep up. My body was not just a battlefield, for fists, but for greedy eyes and lecherous hands. There was no sanctuary, not even in my sleep, or behind locked doors, there were rather no locked doors.“You’re growing up beautifully,” one of the nobles had once said, his fingers grazing my jaw like I was a prized mare he was appraising.“It's a shame that mouth of yours stays shut, I could teach you how to use it.”I hadn’t responded, I never did but my silence didn’t save me, i
SYLARI“You call that a swing?” Daren's voice barked from across the training pit.I gritted my teeth, my arm was already swollen, but I lifted the blade again.“Try again, Syl,” he mocked, “Or maybe your weak wrists can’t handle anything thicker than a broom.”The other warriors howled with laughter, one of them, Riko’s cousin, maybe, I couldn’t remember....picked up a stone and tossed it toward me and it hit my shoulder with a dull thud.“Oops,” he said with a sneer, “My hand slipped.”No one corrected him, of course not.“Don’t stop,” another chimed in.“Maybe if we hit her hard enough, her wolf will wake up and grow a spine.”“Move, curse-child.” Riko said hitting me across the same shoulder that had just been hit with a stone.I didn’t flinch, I had learned not to, because flinching gave them something to laugh about.Riko, the Alpha’s second-born, my immediate younger brother spat near my foot, “She doesn’t even blink, what a freak.”“I heard she sleeps with her eyes open,” one







