Daughter of the Moon

I. Hecate's Wheel

Thud!

A silver arrowhead sunk deep into a wooden target with incredible precision. The archer, a young woman clad in Amazonian armor, set her bow down to retrieve the arrows she had shot during her training. Her long brown hair cascaded down her back in a French braid like a string of liquid hazelnut, her intense golden eyes squinted in concentration as she effortlessly plucked the arrows from the wooden figure.

Anastasia Maleo was no ordinary woman. She did not care for her children, she did not stay at home to do chores. She trained daily with her sisters Allera and Alexandria, for they were Luna Warriors, destined for greatness.

You see, Luna Warriors were said to be daughters of the Moon Goddesses. It is believed that they come in sets of threes, born three years apart, and appear as if they could be triplets. They are of Chief bloodlines, still biological to their parents, yet are regarded almost as if they are demigoddesses.

But Anastasia was different from her sisters in that she was a Daughter of Artemis, even rarer than Luna Warriors. There had only been one other—before the War of the Races. Not much was known of her, and even the prophecies gave little detail except that she was the savior of the Moon race. She was the living form of all three Lunar Goddesses: Selene, Artemis, and Hecate. It was known that she had no mate, and it was believed that Anastasia would share that same fate.

The day of Anastasia's birth was one of wonder and woe, as the Seers knew this could only mean one thing: a war was to be expected within the century.

Anastasia sat on the bench beside the archery station, stuffing her arrows into her golden quiver. Anastasia loved to train, and while she was no ordinary girl, she wished for once, she could live an ordinary life. She looked down at the Marking on her arm, just below her inner elbow.

She was Marked with Hecate's Wheel, a triskelion that represented the three Moon Goddesses: Selene, of the Moon and sky; Artemis, of the hunt and Earth; and Hecate, of witchcraft and underworld. The mark was on her arm when she was born, and grew with her as she became a young woman.

Anastasia sighed. Being an ordinary girl would mean pursuing a career of her choice, finding a husband, having a family. It would mean choices, not destiny. Sure, everyone was faced with fate in regards to their destined lover, but Anastasia was promised war and bloodshed.

The three villages of the Polis of the Moon each held relation to their respective Goddess, but Anastasia felt a pull from all three women of the Moon. Like her sisters, she was of Selene; part of her pack with a natural inclination to the sciences and cunning as a fox. She was of Artemis; her Daughter, destined for the Hunt and to save her people. She was of Hecate; they say Anastasia's soul is old, the only to be of both Earth and the Underworld, unmet in strength or agility for she was of magic.

To her family and her village, she was all of that, but she was also the young woman they had all helped to raise and grow to love. She was intelligent, kind, and selfless, always helping with the children or in the kitchens or on her fathers Council.

Allera was the youngest of the three, only 17. She was in her final year of schooling, but trained everyday after school until dinner and all day Saturday. She was passionate of the sciences, and unless she was called to battle or to shadow one of her sisters, she was free to study with the village doctors. She was carefree, always smiling, and untouched by the evil that haunted Anastasia and Alexandria.

Alexandria was the oldest of the three, the first to be named a Luna Warrior in over three decades. For this she held pride; though she knew her younger sister was far stronger and destined for more, she had no hatred towards her. She only wanted to help her grow and to be by her side throughout her destiny. Over the years she had grown cold, for she was the only one who could truly remember their mother. She had to wait for six years for her mother to die, all the while knowing it would happen. But Alexandria was only cold because she had to be; the only love she had was for her sisters and her father.