Chapter 102: A Mistake
Jacob (Mist)~
I had lived for centuries. Time moved differently for me, like the steady pull of the moon on the tides—constant, inevitable, unchanging. And yet, in all those years, I had never been shaken, never been tempted, never questioned the choices I had made.
Until now.
I still remember the beginning as if it were yesterday. I remember the moment I first opened my eyes beneath the pale light of my mother, the Moon Goddess. I was her first born, the eldest among many, and with that came a purpose unlike any other.
Once, she was revered. Humans worshipped her, looked to her for guidance, and bathed in her celestial glow with prayers on their lips. But as time passed, their devotion waned. One by one, they turned away, seeking other gods, other paths, and for some—no gods at all. My mother did not curse them for their abandonment. She did not rage or smite them as some deities might have. Instead, she turned her love toward those who still believed, those who still lifted their heads to the night sky and whispered her name with reverence.
And among those faithful were the beings she had created at my sister’s plea—werewolves.
Mara, my sister, (Natalie) had always loved humanity more than I ever could. She saw their frailty, their fleeting lives, and instead of pitying them, she adored them. And in other to save a group of them, It was she who convinced our mother to create something new, something that blended the strength of beasts with the hearts of men. And so, werewolves were born.
But they were incomplete. They were powerful, yes, but without direction, without control. They were beings of instinct and impulse, driven by hunger, rage, and the pull of the moon. My mother turned to me then, entrusting me with a duty that would define my existence.
She gave me power—more than I had ever imagined. She placed within me the ability to shape the very consciousness of lost souls.
It was I who gave the wolves inside the humans their voice.
I shaped them into something more than primal creatures. I made them a conscience, a guiding force, a balance to the chaos of human emotions. They became more than just beasts—they became protectors, guardians, warriors of the night. Together, my mother and I created what should have been the perfect species, a true harmony of man and beast.