As the sun began to rise, light slowly crept into the old mansion, brushing gently across the cradle where baby Lorenzo slept soundly. Outside, the garden rested in perfect peace — unaware of the heavy fate that slept in the tiny hands of the child.
Then suddenly, the soft flutter of wings broke the stillness of the morning air.
A shadow passed by the window — vibrant, glimmering, alive.
When the light returned, a parrot landed on the open window. Its feathers gleamed with gold, blue, green, and crimson — like a rainbow given wings. In its eyes shimmered the spark of wisdom, as though it carried memories from the heavens themselves.
Baby Lorenzo stirred, blinked once, then smiled faintly.
At the corner of the room, Aling Aurora — his nanny — paused from folding the blankets. The sound of wings made her turn abruptly, almost dropping what she held in shock.
Aling Aurora (softly, nervous):
"Holy saints!… what kind of bird is that?!"
The parrot stared back at her — calm, fearless, as if it knew her name.
Aling Aurora (taking a cautious step, hand on her chest):
"You're no ordinary parrot, are you!? Who are you? Were you sent by the children of darkness?"
The parrot winked, and then spoke — its voice cold yet gentle, like a whisper carried by the wind.
Abesamis (the parrot):
"I am Abesamis, messenger of the Aurelion. I bring no danger… only watchful eyes."
Aurora stumbled backward, eyes wide in disbelief.
Aling Aurora:
"You talk! Oh dear heavens, if anyone sees you — magic is forbidden here!"
Abesamis spread its radiant wings, catching the sunlight.
Abesamis:
"Be still, caretaker. I am here for the child. The last blood of the White Wolf must be protected — even the wind speaks of coming danger."
Baby Lorenzo cooed softly and reached out his tiny hand toward the light shimmering from Abesamis' feathers.
The parrot bowed slightly, and a single feather fell into the cradle — glowing faintly, like a sliver of moonlight.
In a flash, Abesamis flapped his wings and took off through the window — vanishing into the bright morning sky.
Aurora stood frozen, her hand clutching her chest, her heartbeat loud in her ears.
Aling Aurora (whispering to herself):
"Abesamis, huh… If you truly are a guardian, then may your purpose be as noble as you claim. Because if not… even a bird won't escape me."
She turned to the cradle.
Lorenzo was still asleep — the shining feather held tightly in his small palm, a faint smile on his lips.
Far across the forest, deep within the mountains known to creatures as the Land of Shadows, stood the camp of the Noctaryns — the wolves of darkness.
Beneath the burning sky and the scent of ashes, their leader towered — Ignacio, the Black Alpha, ruler of the children of darkness.
Once a noble warrior, now consumed by wrath and greed. Under his command, the remaining Aurelion captives had become slaves — forced to trudge through mud, to carry stones heavier than hope, and to serve beasts that were once their kin.
Every day was punishment.
Every night, a chorus of hunger and pain.
And yet, in the deepest corners of their hearts, a faint faith still flickered — that someday, light would return.
Scene: Inside a small hut
Inside a hut made of branches and leaves, two men sat in silence, listening to the chorus of crickets outside.
They were Juanico and Emmanuel — once loyal warriors of Don Lucien, now prisoners, living as slaves under the rule of the Noctaryn.
Juanico (in a low voice):
"How long will we live like this, Emmanuel? Every day they break us. Is there no end to this torment?"
Emmanuel (head bowed, voice weary):
"There is hope, my friend. Each night, I listen to the wind from the north. I still hear Don Lucien's voice… 'Never surrender. A savior will come.'"
Juanico (bitter laugh):
"A savior? Don Lucien's been dead for years, Emmanuel. How can there be salvation when even heaven has turned its back on us?"
Emmanuel (softly, a faint smile):
"Not all bloodlines fade, Juanico. As long as a drop of the White Wolf's blood remains… hope still lives."
Suddenly, a faint rustle — the sound of wings — broke the silence outside. The two men froze.
A shadow descended through the small window — a bird, vibrant and regal, like a rainbow cutting through the dark.
Juanico (nervous, eyes fixed):
"What creature is that? Could it be one of Ignacio's spies?"
Before he could move, the bird spoke.
Abesamis (gentle, wind-like voice):
"I bring no harm. I am Abesamis, messenger of the Aurelion. I am the voice of hope."
Emmanuel (standing quickly, startled):
"Abesamis…? Isn't that the bird of the Keepers of Light?"
Abesamis:
"The blood of the moon has awakened. The last child of the White Wolf still lives."
Juanico gasped, his disbelief clear.
Juanico:
"Alive? You mean… someone survived?"
Abesamis (nodding, hovering above the small fire):
"He is but an infant now, yet he will open the path toward light. His name… is Lorenzo — the last White Blood, son of Lucien."
When Abesamis spoke those words, the two Aurelion men turned to each other — a flicker of hope shining in eyes that had long forgotten how to dream.
Juanico:
"You heard that, Emmanuel? Lucien had another child… I only knew of Aliya, his daughter — but there's another heir?"
Emmanuel:
"You're right. If this is true, this could be the beginning of Ignacio's fall."
But before they could ask more, thunder cracked across the sky.
The earth trembled. Darkness swept the camp.
They looked back — the bird was gone, vanished like smoke into the wind.
From the distance, a deep howl echoed through the Noctaryn camp — a wolf's cry, filled with fury and warning.
Ignacio's voice (roaring):
"No one escapes me!… especially those who carry news to the Aurelion!"
Emmanuel's eyes widened. He turned slowly to Juanico.
Juanico (in a trembling whisper):
"He knows… Ignacio knows someone's been here."
The night fell silent once more, but deep within the forest, a pair of golden eyes gleamed — watching quietly, as if marking the beginning of something long awaited.
Narrator's Note:
With every turn of the moon, blood shall awaken once more. And as the darkness fades, the destiny of the wolves will be rewritten — beneath the light long yearned for by the Aurelion.