Novel & Cerita Lunar Fanart

​The air in the Lunar Sanctum was growing thin, the oxygen-scrubbers whining as Vesper’s Origin-Armor began to bleed the room’s energy. Leo Vane stood paralyzed between the Lunar Anchor and the energy-wall that held his siblings captive. His iridescent amber arm was sparking, the frequency of the moon’s "Kill-Switch" already beginning to vibrate in his marrow.

“Looks like your ‘nonsense’ had a name.” I lean closer, tracing the faded inscription beneath the illustration. The letters are warped, smudged with age, but one word stands out, repeated twice in the text, once beneath the drawing, once near the margin. “Lunarae,” I whisper. Jake straightens. “What does it mean?” “I… don’t know. There’s no direct translation. Lunar is the obvious part.” For a moment, neither of us speaks. The hum of the machines fills the space between us.

Aria's POV The image on the screen made my breath catch. It was the strange mark on Luna's arm, and it was more precise than ever. The lines curved in the same deliberate pattern–sharp where they needed to be, and soft where they bled into another. Even the tiny break I noticed on Luna's arm along the lower arc was there. It was more like a direct picture taken from Luna's arm. But that wasn't all. Beneath the image was a name written in a script that looked ceremonial even in its modern font.

I said slowly. "The Moon Goddess's chosen vessel, a wolf born once in several generations who carries a direct connection to the Goddess herself." I paused and shook my head slightly. "I always thought they were pack mythology. Stories told to pups at bedtime, nothing more." "They are not stories," Mira said, touching the open page of the old book with one finger. "The last recorded carrier of the Luna bloodline disappeared sixty years ago. Most packs believe she was assassinated, but the truth is more complicated than that. She did not die.

“I’ve seen this picture somewhere else, only…” Both women leaned over his shoulder to see what had him so interested. It was a night scene with a sphinx in the background and two lovers entwined by a fire. Just the sort of thing that would have caught Mathin’s eye, Andrea thought, amused. The only thing was, instead of three moons in the night sky there was... “One moon.” Andrea sucked in a breath. “Where did you see this picture, Mathin?” He regarded her solemnly. “In Fallon’s library, on Earth.”

he announced with a warm smile. Luna's face lit up with joy. "Certainly, Dad, let's go, I'm so excited about it." Luna and Robert found themselves standing at the center of a hushed and expectant crowd. All eyes were fixed on Luna, filled with enthusiasm and admiration. The scene was nothing short of magical. In the spotlight was a breathtaking cake, a creation of artistic wonder. It featured ten layers adorned with stars and a moon theme, with a color palette of soothing blues, pristine whites, and shimmering silvers. The cake itself was a masterpiece, a reflection of Luna's celestial elegance.

Lyra barely had time to set the coffee aside before she had an armful of squirming child and faint scent of washable markers. “Hey, pup,” Lyra said, kissing the top of her head. “Redecorating again?” “Art,” Luna corrected, scandalized. “This is important.” “I stand corrected,” Lyra said gravely. “Show me the important art.” Luna wriggled down, grabbed her hand with sticky fingers, and dragged her toward the mural. “This is the bad man,” she said, pointing proudly at the long-mouthed stick figure. “He tried to take me. But Rhea and Mr. Jace said no. And Daddy bit him.”

I asked him, forcing a smile. "Yes, that's right, dear, you will." "So, what is the plan for this month?" I asked them, trying to lighten the mood somewhat. "Well, it is nearly the end of the month, so therefore, the end of the year. We traditionally have a bonfire, as the moon for December is called the cold moon, along with the oak moon and the long night's moon. We typically try to burn at least some oak during the bonfire, but it's mostly staving off the long and cold night with the fire. This year, though, I would like to make it a bit of a pre New Year's party for the pack."

while standing to take a view at the nursery again, staring at the empty cribs which Fabian had built for them himself, l felt his hands were better made for battle than wood. My eyes moved to the mural. Luna, the moon goddess, holding two children, one with silver eyes, the other red. I didn’t paint it. No one in this house did.

‘The goddess bestows her gift of light to whom she favours…’ I hastily made my way to my former table and spread the scroll wide. The pictures on the parchment were of a female with a crescent of the moon on her head like a halo. It was the art representation of the moon goddess. Lunaria. Her hands were alight with glow and she was surrounded by werewolves who bowed before her. My eyes greedily ate up the words. ‘At the winter of solstice, Goddess Lunaria puts the deeds and nobility of her children on the scale of purity, to see who is fated to be the next child of light.’