This series of chapters will introduce and describe the characters and life in the Full Moon Sanctuary.

The Sanctuary is a community founded by Moray McCoire and Harumi Mochizuki. Initially, it was a retreat surrounded by nature, with the only existing building being the Full Moon Inn. It was, and still is, a place where one can seek for comfort and security, far from the bustling cities and nestled in the heart of the mountains, Loch Madadh-Allaidh, the Moonmaiden River, and the sea.

From a lovely, cozy Inn, the place has developed into a full community, its inhabitants being in the vast majority werewolves, as it is a sanctuary for people with lycanthropy. Here, no one suffers with discrimination, or has trouble looking for a job and taking care of their families. The community takes care of their own, providing the necessary resources for a peaceful and decent life, although this requires everyone to work and fulfil their duties and tasks in the most prestigious way.


I cannot begin this adventure without thanking my friends, @Colin McCoire, @Jun Mayumi Mochizuki and @AngelFyre McCubbin. They have been here since the beginning, the true founders of the Full Moon Sanctuary, for all the pieces of their stories they kindly shared with me.

The sand felt rough, wet, and cold beneath her bare feet. The chilly, salty wind cut through her sensitive skin, kissing and painting it with a soft pink blush and blowing the white messy strands of her long, untamed hair. The long, multiple layered black skirts of her dress protected her legs from the autumn unmerciful weather, and she tightened the woollen shawl around her shoulders, embracing all the warmth it could give her. Not that she would completely complain about the cold, it was a sensation she was used too and welcomed, as she tried to clean her head from all the invading thoughts that kept knocking at her mind's door.

The woman's teal, blue eyes, watched as the waves were having their usual irregular dance, following no other rhythm but their own and the one Mother Nature gave them. Twisting, curving and breaking as the wild waters moved around themselves, spreading their all reaching arms across the sand that complacently waited for them at each turn. Receiving them in a conversation only the elements could completely understand. Sometimes perceived as old friends embracing each other, sometimes as enemies fighting against each other and sometimes as lovers, becoming one, as they curved around one another ending on a release with whispering and crashing sounds that could make our own soul sing alongside them.

Nithya was no mermaid, or kin to any other merfolk, but sometimes she felt like if she had born from the sea. There was no other place that made her feel so at home and so much connected to her essence as when she was at the edge of the untamed waves. Whenever she closed her eyes, she always felt like if she was part of that whole. It felt far more like a blessing, the wordless mumble of free, wild waters, than the entangled knot of images that came as part of her real nature. That, sometimes, made her believe that her mind, one day, would become completely and irrevocably lost. Maybe that was her real fate after all, that her mind would end up being erratic as the nature that called so persistently for her soul.

Standing tall at her left side, was the high cliff. A natural sculpture roughly chiseled by the harsh winds and the crashing of angry salty waters. The cuts were deep and sharp, like if giant blades had been unmercifully and carelessly thrown at the slope. Framed by slabs of stone, there was a small opening, large enough for an adult to enter by crouching. It was not advisable for those unfamiliar with the tides to enter, but the middle-aged seer had grown up there and knew that sea almost as well as the palms of her hands. Knowing that the waters were receding and would remain low for a few hours, Nithya felt safe enough to enter what was her favourite place to meditate, away from prying eyes or possible unwanted interruptions.

Holding her heavy skirts so that the fabric wouldn't snag and tear on any of the sharp rocks, Nithya crouched down and entered inside the cave naturally carved on the cliff's side. Once inside, the place was not as narrow as its entrance. The space would open enough for her to stand, though it was dark, the only source of light being the small hole on the rocky wall she had left behind. But the woman knew where her feet were taking her. Two minutes walking through the straight stone corridor and she would finally arrive the small cave formed inside that cliff's belly.

The area was enough to accommodate around ten people but no more. The cave walls were caressed by drops of water that fell along the edges of the carved stone, forming small puddles in the rocky and uneven ground. There was the 'drip...drip...' sound that echoed through the hollow space, a rhythm that helped her relax and enter the state of ecstasy necessary for her ability, or curse, to awaken.

Nithya, used her porcelain long fingers, to take her wand from the leather pouch strapped to her waist pointing it at the ground at her feet, and in her softly husky voice she whispered, "Molliare." The rocky, dusty floor immediately softened and so she could sit far more comfortably, meditation was far from the concept of punishment, even if she saw it as such at times. With another spell that fell as gently from her purple painted lips as the last one, the cave softly lit with a blue light, immersing her on an ethereal and otherworldly atmosphere. Creating her own piece and fraction of the world were she safely could meet the depths of her true self.

Sitting with her legs crossed, covered by the layers of black fabric, the woman made the effort to stay as relaxed as possible, little by little, lifting the weigh that accumulated on her by her simple and mere existence in this world. Sometimes it would take more time to fall into the depths of her gift, sometimes it revealed itself as poisonous, another days it would show her a piece of salvation. But many, in most of the times, it would present her with riddles and puzzles of what could or not be. Sometimes she wished she could renounce this ability, usually when it turned her into a curse bringer.

She would never forget the day her vision had brought her the sight of blood and innocence lost. Too many lives fragmented and broken. A mirror that shattered into million pieces and would never be able to be whole again. A broken promise, words carried away by the wind, emptying the world in their path. A lingering sensation that old things would remain, and debts would never be paid.

A sound of air being deeply inhaled, as if someone had been drowning and suddenly was able to breathe again in despair, echoed through the cave. Her eyes focused and unfocused as a veil covered her mortal's vision, and took possession of her entire existence. It always felt as if her mind had left her physical presence in this world and flew to another unnamed place. There was a young presence, someone lost, scared and angry. So much anger in their heart. But she couldn't see their face. Despair gnawed at her from the inside in such a raw way that it opened wounds in her flesh. And there was blood. Pools of dark red liquid at her feet that filled little by little with the drops falling from her hands. But her hands weren't her own. In place of thin, slender fingers, there was a large, clawing hand full with scars and stories that weren't hers to tell. There was an impending question, a blade suspended in mid-air above her head. If she were to look up, she would see its sharp tip, a constant silent threat, "take life, or I'll take yours."

Nithya opened her blue ocean eyes, the fog from her vision dissipating. Her hands felt cold and wet, she could feel her essence fighting to adapt to what were her own feelings, her own thoughts, dissociating from what she had seen and bringing her conscious back to the present and what were her real surroundings. She focused once more on the steady sound of dripping, produced by the drops of water falling into their small pools on the ground circling her. And slowly, Nithya was pulled and fell back into her own body.

There was that presence again...that young soul that seemed to claw and rip itself apart from inside out. Who were they? Why was this vision the most constant presence that her gift always provided her? These were the questions Nithya couldn't find the answer too. No matter how many times she had seen them, she would be left with the sensation that there was a thread that linked them to something important but it was never clearly revealed to her. In the beginning, this would leave her to deal with her own frustrations, all ending in blame and guilt. Over time, she has learned to not force what was not to be unveiled, but one thing she was sure, last time she had seen that presence, the blade has fallen on a place too close from home, so there was one thing she could not ignore...that was one thing that could not stay behind and forgotten inside that cave...

Characters in this chapter:

“I’m still not sure why Moray would pick you out of so many others to do this job.” Kieran mumbled his words around the cigarette that he balanced between his lips, as he carried the two heavy bags full with what would be the payment for their next business exchangement. Despite the weight of his baggage, he walked in his usual nonchalant way, as he followed the bright pink haired girl with whom, much against his will, he kept being paired to do this kind of job for the Sanctuary.

“Any problem with that Vale?” She asked him without even deeming to look behind her shoulders as she kept her pace alongside the thin course of water that cut through the village street. “No, not at all.” He answered, his tone already promising the sarcasm that would be confirmed next, "Discretion is not at all required.”

Twila snorted audibly, not even pretending it had affected her the slightest, “I’m sure you’ll compensate with your last century’s opinions.” A sly smile slowly appeared on her lips as she kept heading towards the Security Quarters carrying her own satchel full with precious contents that would secure their community another month of Wolfsbane Potions.

“You have to admit that you can’t blend with the crowd. I’m sure your ego wouldn’t even support that.” He replied in a voice that was visibly becoming tired from the effort of keeping a fast pace dragging alongside such weight. “Keep talking old man, and you won’t even arrive at our buyer.” Twila replied as she glanced over her shoulder, winking provocatively at him as her hand reached towards the handle of the tall and thick iron double doors of the tall and large building that served as the Sanctuary security facility.

Upon entering, they found a small waiting room that smelled like parchment, wood and fresh coffee. There were at least three guards inside minding their own business and talking between each other. At the right side of the room, there was a set of dark green armchairs displayed around a black marble coffee table next to a lit fireplace. There was a large candle lit chandelier hanging from the ceiling illuminating the place in a cozy warm light, and shelves full with books and scrolls decorated and framed the left wall. There were no windows, that was a characteristic that encompassed the whole security building. No one could see what was outside, no one would know what happened inside, that was the protocol. Opposite the entrance doors there was a dark wood counter behind which worked a tall woman with broad shoulders and long, wavy blonde hair. The bear animagus greeted them both with a friendly smile that defied her intimidating aura. It was a contrast that, inexplicably, always left Twila unsettled. She was sure if she ever saw a real bear making such an expression she would feel the exact same way, was simply not natural.

“I was waiting for you.” Kaila welcomed them, not wasting time before gesturing for them to follow her. She opened the door behind the counter and waited for Twila and Kieran to enter the room. In the eyes of common people, the room would be understood as a small working space. There was a sturdy desk in the middle, where several documents and files were displayed waiting to be organized and archived. The walls were framed with dusty shelves and cabinets where endless records were displayed and saved for future references or research. “Hope you’ll find what you need.” Kaila told them with a nod, closing the door and leaving them both locked inside.

Twila shrugged as the door closed behind the burly woman, “She always makes me feel like she’s going to twist my neck at any minute.” She murmured with a sigh of relief. “She’s a lovely woman.” Kieran replied in an emotionless tone while putting his cigarette down at an ashtray that was on top of the desk, and moved behind it walking towards an antique mahogany sideboard. Above it, adorning the wall, was a large mirror whose frame was carved from bronze in a vintage design.

“Better keep moving, I have a lot of things to do yet.” Twila said, her voice gaining enthusiasm as she spoke. Kieran glanced at her over the broad shoulder of his worn leather jacket, raised an eyebrow in silent disapproval, but chose not to say the words that came to mind. Instead, he took his wand out of his inner pocket and pointed it at the large mirror on the wall. “Quarzicum” He muttered, and before their eyes, the mirror's glass dissolved into millions of tiny grains of sand that fell like rain onto the surface of the sideboard.

Instead of a mirror reflecting the image of the small office, there was now a passageway leading to a tunnel, large enough for one person to pass through at a time. Kieran didn’t wait for Twila to go first, and without hesitation he climbed onto the old piece of furniture and made his way through the entrance that had been revealed by his spell.

Twila followed him into the tunnel, but before continuing her way through the narrow space, she took out her wand and with a slight wave cast her spell, "Reparo". In what looked like a back forward motion, the grains of sand flew from the wooden surface and floor to meet their rightful place encaged between the bronze frame and transfigured back into a glass mirror, leaving no trace behind from the spell that had broken it and put it back together into one piece.

They continued their walk through the corridor, one that now looking back, seemed like it had no exit, until they reached the other side of it. Kieran pushed the hidden door on the stone wall and soon they were entering the room from where they would finally be able to leave the Sanctuary grounds. There was a hearth with piled logs waiting to be consumed with fire at the front wall. Before it, there was a brown leather sofa, slightly turned and worn by the passage of time. On a coffee table in front of the old seat was a porcelain tea set as if waiting to welcome visitors. The rug beneath it was used and dusty, far from the old days where it could have been seen as a touch of color and comfort to the almost empty and soulless room.

“Not even sure why the trouble of having this room looking like this,” Twila said as her teal eyes lingered on the old pieces of furniture, as she moved to the fireplace, “It looks miserable.” She declared, taking a small pouch from inside her jacket containing the glittery powder well known for travelling in the wizarding world, Floo Powder. Twila entered the fireplace that was large enough to let her stay standing inside and took a small portion of the powder into the palm of her hand, the words “McCoire Apothecary” left her mouth just moments before green flames engulfed her entirely, and left an empty space behind.

In a blink of an eye Twila found herself stepping away from the fireplace now belonging to Mrs. Alora and Mr. Angus McCoire’s store. located in one of the many commercial streets in magical Scotland, but in this case in a small town next to Inverness. A few moments later, Kieran appeared behind her carrying the heavy bags with him and so both of them had arrived at the back office that was by now as familiar to them as any space at the werewolf community.

The office was decorated with dark cherry furniture, the rugs and curtains a mustard yellow with green details. Plants, books and countless parchments were spread through the place. Twila didn’t take much time looking around this time, as she was now more than used to the place, but the first time she had gone there a smile had spread across her face immediately as the room embraced her with a feeling of happiness and cozyness, reflection of the nature of the people that worked and lived there. That was a home, full with stories and personality, not only a place for business.

But business was the reason they were there, and Kieran seemed as focused as always in getting it done as quickly as possible. He crossed past Twila and gave the old woman, who they found working at her usual spot, behind the beautiful victorian desk, his most charismatic smile. “Mrs. McCoire, a pleasure to see you ma’am, as always.” He told her with a polite nod.

“You’re five minutes too soon from what was agreed.” She told them as a way of greeting. Her expression was serious, as if she was indeed upset with the fact that they got there a little sooner then what was previously arranged, but her brown witty eyes had on them a slight glow of mirth that by now they could spot almost immediately, “The tea is not ready yet to receive my clients.” She finished giving them a clever smile that was one of her most characteristic traits.

She turned her attention to the papers she was working on, one last time, before organizing them into a pile, rising from her chair, and walking toward Twila and Kieran, carrying with her the keys to open the cabinet at the other side of the room. “Hope everything is going fine at the Sanctuary?" She asked as a way of starting a conversation. “As smooth as always Mrs. McCoire.” Kieran replied with a short smile that could not be read as anything but. He had always had that ability, one that Twila kind of admired and could not bring herself to replicate, of keeping things unreadable through his demeanour or chosen tone of voice. Sometimes, she found herself wondering what kind of life he had before the Sanctuary, to make him as hard as stone.

“Ha! I’ll almost believe that this time young Kieran.” Alora replied with a soft, short laugh as she opened the cabinet using the key. From inside of it, she took a medium wooden box that she then reached towards the werewolf man, “Here it is.” She said, “Tell my nephew I need to speak with him. I would send a letter, but I prefer to have an excuse to see him and get him out of that cave he has been hiding…” Alora gave Kieran a knowing look, “...For far too long!” She added, her expression showing clearly her disapproval about Moray’s choices of staying at the Sanctuary instead of coming himself to visit his family.

Twila did her best to hide the smile that tugged at her lips, she covered her mouth subtly with her hand and coughed but the glint in her teal eyes wouldn’t let her effort be sufficient to help her cause. Alora raised an eyebrow at her, letting the young woman know she was fully aware of her reaction. But before they could exchange more words about that subject, Kieran broke the interaction between them by letting the heavy bags fall on top of Mrs. McCoire desk. “And here is payment.” He told her, “Hope everything is to your liking.”

“It always is.” The old woman said in return, her expression turning thoughtful for a moment, as if she had lost herself in her own mind for a few seconds, before “Will you stay for a cup of tea?” She asked with a calming stance. Twila was already wearing a bright, large smile, ready to accept the invitation but Kieran’s curt voice was heard first, “Another time, perhaps.” He said with a courteous nod. Twila sighed, her shoulders falling forward as she rolled her eyes at him and mouthed, “Bummer.”

“Very well.” Alora said in her graceful way, “It’s always a pleasure to see you both. Don’t forget to tell Moray that he needs to come visit.”

And with that, Twila and Kieran came back to the Sanctuary, following the same path they took to arrive at the McCoire’s store and carrying with them another portion of sloth brains that would guarantee the safety of their people for the next coming month.