Shadows of the Ancients

Whispering secrets through the twisted limbs of the ancient forest, the wind carried voices from a time long gone. Under a twilight-damaged sky, Aria stood on the edge of a clearing where the past and present clashed. Every leaf, every stone, every echo of her footfall reminded her that the tradition of the Crescent Bloodline was not just carved in her skin—it was woven into the very fabric of this place. The shadows of the ancients were moving tonight and they had a message to send.

 Pushing further into the woods, Aria's heart raced like the constant drumbeat of battle. Unlike the trees in her own forest, these were older with thick, twisted trunks and leaves murmuring in an ancient language. Every step seemed to be weighted with the burden of millennia as if the ground itself recalled every sacrifice done in the cause of the Crescent Bloodline.