Disclaimer: I don't own Daughter's of the Moon.
Prologue
Nefandus, 1996.
'Because,' the blonde woman snarled, 'I said so!'
But… thought the young girl, still cowering in the corner. Her mother turned and glared. She didn't speak. Mother never spoke. Aunt Clarissa turned eyebrows raised.
The girl's skin began to get all prickly. She looked around the dark, dank dungeon that housed her. She suddenly couldn't breathe. Was Aunty punishing her?
The next thing she knew, she was lying flat on the stone floor. Aunty was leaning over her smiling. No, she was beaming. "You see, Lydia? The Atrox knew one of your children would have your skill! It knew this was important…"
Mother began to cry. "Aunt?" the girl asked, very confused. She tossed her grey hair around her shoulders.
"You have just secured the dark side's fate, little one," Aunt Clarissa cackled like a mad woman. "You just insured our victory!"
As she sat on her dungeon floor, long after her aunt and mother left, Ilksha Ferine wondered if that was good or bad.
