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feral-moonsaber · 5 years

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Moonsong [Wandering Stars Pt 1]

Lady Anarah Lummeth brought the panflute to her lips as she walked barefoot through the large entertaining garden of her family's estate. The moon rose in full, visible through the slowly flowering trees that marked the central alcove. The estate was not as large as some; though incredibly old, the Lummeth’s line was not as prosperous as other families. They bartered in wine, magic, and secrets - commodities equally powerful and rare. Yet most of that wealth and power vanished when her dear father turned Felborne and Elisandre fell from grace. Now she fought tooth and nail to regain even a small amount of what had been.

The notes from her panflute turned sour and she took it from her lips. She fought, and fought and fought, because she'd been left the responsibility of the house, by the one person she was sworn to protect. She felt no ill will to her sister for her choice, but Anarah did not feel joy either at her name.

She stepped under the Moon Gate, hand touching the ancient stone in greeting. A long lost relic of their Highborne roots, layers and layers of runic wards had protected the sanctum within for millennia. Her touch flared magic through the stone and allowed her passage. The gate shimmered as her hand slipped from the stone.

Anarah shared almost all of her features with her elder sister, save the runes scarred into Sildre's dark skin, and Anarah's white feline eyes. They were so close in age, they were treated as twins. A paultry five years separated their births. She was the Heir's Protector, her Nightprowler (though -that- title was saved for their lost sister Lyewen) and she would do anything for her sister.

Even becoming the head of the family.

She stepped out from under the small ivy covered path into the sactumn proper. Moonlight lit the small space with an ethereal glow. The sactumn was about thirty feet across and round, barriered by hedges of starlit roses. A fine carpet of moss stretched from side to side, broken only by the white stone statue at the North end of the space. Standing several feet taller than Anarah was a perfect replica of her mother.

In front of the statue was a small altar and plaque. The plaque read

'Blessed be is our Mother Moon,

She who lights the way in the dark.’

Anarah crouched by the altar, lighting a candle at the East and West sides of the altar. The flames flickered and steadied, two beacons of light against the dark. The common story of her mother's death was that of withering. That her father cast her mother out of the fold for not taking the Fel and left her to die. That was the story Sildre had been told.

That was, however, not the whole truth.

She settled between the candles in front of an offering plate. The druidess bit her thumb, drawing blood. She drew a rune on the plate in broad strokes of red. The stone hummed as she finished the sigil of the Lummeth House.

“Blood to blood I call to thee,

Mother Moon, show thyself to me.

Blood to blood I summon thee,

Mother Moon, shine thy light upon me.”

Anarah thrust a dagger into the middle of the sigil, finding home in a hidden slot in the stone. The sigil flared to life, shining bright with moonlight. She stepped back, the moonlight beginning to coalesce in front of the statue. Panflute to her lips, she began to play a soft tune. Magic hung on the notes and the air felt heavy with it. Gathering this much energy in one place was always a risk, but Anarah was not who she was by chance.

The music steadied the magic, brought order to it, and the light solidified into a woman the mirror image of the statue. She was one solid color, except for the dark runes covering her white skin. Like Sildre, she too bore the weight of her magic upon her skin, and like very true Mother Moon before her.

Their mother did not die as the stories suggested. She and every other Matriarch before her became one with the Leylines upon their death. Though, she had not died. Not truly.

“My Crescent Moon…” said her mother, voice echoing and full of power. Anarah bowed deeply.

“Mother Moon, I thank you for gracing me with your presence this eve. I bring---” Power touched her chin, guiding her up until she looked at her mother's glowing face. It unnerved her, the sheer force of power humming against her skin. Her mother had always been a power magistrix, but this was… unheard of. Had she really gained so much power in the few short years she'd been gone? How had Anarah not noticed the other times she'd called upon her mother for guidance?

Her mother had never touched her before, she realized. Never felt the touch and power seeping into her veins and mind.

“My dear Crescent Moon, you need not be so formal. Now… tell me what has happened,” said her mother with a smile that did not quite reach her eyes. Anarah took a small step back, if only to disable the connection between them. Her mind cleared; she hadn't even noticed it was clouded.

“Our Wandering Star has gone dark, my Lady. Moreover the whole of Quel'thalas has gone dark. I cannot scry in, nor find the leylines connecting it to the rest of the world. It is though… it's vanished.

Yet we know that forces moved towards the home of the Sin'dorei, and more still move north via the sea. I fear she and the company she is keeping is in danger.”

Her mother was silent as she spoke, the only indication she was even real being subtle changes in her brow and lips. Once, Anarah could read her mother like a book; now it seemed the Leylines had changed beyond even that.

“... Yes,” said the Mother Moon after a moment, refocusing on Anarah. “I too have lost connection with our Wandering Star. I believe it is time we remind her of her place in the cosmos, Crescent Moon. You are to find her and bring her back into the fold. You have done a commendable job, but you are not the Heir.”

If she'd expected the words to sting, she was mildly surprised. They rolled off of her like water, and Anarah felt a weight lift from her shoulders. Her mother understood that much, at least.

“It is time our Black Moon reclaimed her birthright.”

Power thrummed in the air and Anarah shivered.

“Find her, and if she does not come willingly, make her. By any means necessary,” commanded her mother. A hand of power pressed against her face. Magic poured into her, setting her nerves on fire. It filled her up, up up until she felt like she would burst. She cried out in pain, and her mother let go.

“... I forget how fragile we are as flesh…” said the Mother Moon. She floated back and smiled again, not reaching her eyes. Anarah fell forward, body still humming with power. Stars it felt like she was burning.

“May the Moon guide and protect you, my Crescent Moon.”

Light flashed and Anarah found herself alone in the sanctum. The moon drifted behind the trees and left her in darkness before she could rise off the mossy ground. Her body ached with one purpose.

Find her sister.

Remind her of her duty.

Bring her home.

#sildre lummeth #anarah lummeth #the sunguard #wandering stars

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