The Trial of the Red Moon
The Wolf Realm did not know silence.
Even in stillness, it breathed—through the rustling of ancient pine canopies, through the low growl of rivers carving their way through stone, through the unseen movements of spirits bound to fang and fur. The realm had existed long before names, before kingdoms, before the first human learned how to fear the dark.
And tonight, the realm watched one of its own be judged.
Two moons ruled the sky.
The Silver Moon, pale and eternal, symbol of lineage and order.
And the Red Moon, swollen and burning, omen of judgment, exile, and blood.
When both moons were full, no lie could survive.
Sio Jun stood at the heart of the Stone Circle, her bare feet pressed against obsidian rock colder than ice. The surface was etched with ancient runes—names of wolves who had lived, ruled, and died long before her bloodline ever existed.
Moonsteel chains wrapped tightly around her wrists.
They glowed faintly, reacting to her presence.
Rejecting her.
She felt it immediately—the slow burn beneath her skin, the way the metal resisted her pulse, as though her blood itself offended the realm. Moonsteel never harmed true wolves.
But Sio Jun was not fully one.
Around her stood the Council of Fangs—twelve elders chosen not by strength alone, but by ancestry so pure their bloodlines were said to trace back to the First Howl. Each elder wore ceremonial fur cloaks taken from beasts that no longer walked the world. Bone charms clinked softly at their necks, carved with sigils meant to ward off corruption.
Their eyes glowed faintly.
Not with hatred.
With judgment.
High above them all, carved into the mountainside, rose the Throne of Fangs. Jagged ivory and black stone twisted together like the spine of a dead god. Seated upon it was Elder Kaelthorn, the Red Alpha.
His fur was ash-gray, streaked with black scars earned in wars older than memory. One of his ears was torn. His presence pressed down on the Stone Circle like a storm waiting to break.
He had ruled for longer than Sio Jun had been alive.
Longer than her father had lived.
When Kaelthorn stood, the wind itself seemed to pause.
"The moons have risen," he declared, his voice rolling across the valley like distant thunder. "The realm has awakened. Let the Trial of the Red Moon begin."
A howl rose from the gathered wolves.
Not wild.
Not celebratory.
Ritualistic.
The sound crawled beneath Sio Jun's skin, stirring something primal inside her chest.
She closed her eyes briefly.
Steady, she told herself.
She had known this night would come.
From the moment she was born beneath a sky split by silver and red.
Kaelthorn's crimson gaze fixed on her.
"Sio Jun," he said. "Daughter of a wolf who betrayed tradition… and a human who never belonged."
The words struck harder than claws.
"You stand accused," he continued, "of existing as an abomination between realms. Of carrying blood that weakens the pack and threatens the balance of the Wolf Realm."
A low murmur rippled through the circle.
"Do you deny this charge?"
Sio Jun lifted her head.
Her eyes—one carrying the sharp glow of the wolf, the other softer, human—met Kaelthorn's without flinching.
"I deny that my blood makes me a threat," she said. "I deny that loyalty is measured by purity."
Several elders stiffened.
Kaelthorn's lips curled—not quite a snarl, but close.
"You speak boldly for one bound in chains."
"I speak truthfully," Sio Jun replied. "Even bound."
Silence followed.
Then Kaelthorn raised his staff, the crystal embedded at its tip pulsing red.
"The Red Moon does not care for words," he said. "Only truth."
He struck the stone once.
The ground trembled"Begin the first trial."
The chains fell away.
Instantly, the wolf inside Sio Jun surged forward like a tidal wave.
Her heartbeat thundered. Her senses exploded—every sound sharpened, every scent layered and overwhelming. Her fingers curled as claws pushed beneath her nails. Her spine burned as her body fought between forms.
The Red Moon pulsed brighter.
From the shadows emerged the Blood Guardians.
Three of them.
Massive. Towering. Their forms were forged from crimson energy and bone, eyes glowing with hunger. Each step they took cracked the obsidian beneath their weight.
"The Trial of Blood," an elder announced. "Face the rage within you. Fail, and be consumed by it."
The guardians attacked without warning.
Sio Jun barely had time to react.
She twisted aside as claws tore through the air where her head had been. Another slammed into her side, sending her skidding across the circle. Pain flared white-hot, ribs screaming in protest.
Fight, the wolf snarled inside her. Kill.
She rolled to her feet, breath ragged, blood warm in her mouth.
One guardian lunged again.
She struck—hard.
Her fist connected with its skull, shattering bone.
But the creature reformed instantly, laughing without a mouth.
They were endless.
They were her rage given shape.
Sio Jun staggered as another blow landed, driving her to one knee. The wolf inside her roared, demanding release, demanding dominance.
She could feel it—how easy it would be to surrender.
To let the beast take control.
To prove them right.
"No," she whispered, forcing herself upright. "I am more than this."
She closed her eyes.
Breathed.
She remembered her mother's hands—soft, trembling, human—braiding her hair beneath moonlight.
Power without control is just another cage.
The wolf resisted.
Snarled.
But it listened.
When the guardians attacked again, Sio Jun did not meet them with fury. She moved with precision—redirecting strikes, using their momentum against them, forcing them to collide, to exhaust themselves.
Time blurred.
Pain accumulated.
But she did not lose herself.
At last, the guardians faltered.
Then shattered—dissolving into crimson mist that evaporated beneath the moons.
A stunned silence fell.
"She… controlled it," one elder murmured.
Kaelthorn's gaze hardened.
"Second trial," he said.
The Stone Circle split open.
Dark water rose from beneath, forming the Vision Pool—a mirror to the soul.
"The Trial of Truth," the elders intoned together. "Face what you are."
Sio Jun stepped forward.
The pool shimmered.
Her reflection twisted.
She saw herself transformed—feral, monstrous, neither wolf nor human. Villages burned behind her. Wolves lay broken at her feet. Blood stained her claws.
The reflection smiled.
This is your destiny.
Her chest tightened.
"You don't belong anywhere," the vision whispered. "Not among wolves. Not among humans."
Tears burned her eyes.
But she did not look away.
"I belong to myself," she said. "And I choose who I become."
The pool cracked.
Shattered.
Darkness vanished.
Silence returned.
Even Kaelthorn hesitated now.
"You have passed the trials," he said at last. "But the Red Moon still demands judgment."
The sky darkened further.
The Red Moon flared—bleeding light across the realm.
"Sio Jun, child of two moons," Kaelthorn declared, "you will not be executed."
Relief surged—
Then froze.
"You will be banished."
The word struck like a death sentence spoken slowly.
"Stripped of pack. Stripped of name. Stripped of protection. You will walk beyond our borders alone. If you return—"
He raised his staff.
"—you will be hunted."
Gasps echoed through the elders.
Sio Jun stood still.
Not trembling.
Not begging.
She bowed once—not in submission, but acknowledgment.
"I will survive," she said quietly. "With or without you."
Kaelthorn turned away.
The Stone Circle parted.
The path to exile opened—dark, narrow, unforgiving.
As Sio Jun stepped into the forest, the Red Moon dimmed slightly.
And somewhere beyond the realms—
Fate began to move.