A/N: Rewrite 2.0 - Good Lord, my English sucked back then!
Now: more readable, less mistakes, less stupid sounding sentences ... It probably still has some typos, so inform me if you find some.

Summary: There are two sides to each story. Good always prevails, and since the victorious write the stories to be told the future generations, no one really asks for the other side of it. But what is it? Even Evil has its side of the story.

Listening while writing: Atlantis (The Lost Empire) soundtrack - 'specially The Crystal Chamber

CLAIMER: THIS STORY BELONGS TO ME AND ME ALONE (well, 'cept of grammar which belongs to my beta) ... PLEASE, DO NOT USE IT WITHOUT MY PERMISSION!


[Chapter 1]
The Silver Darkness

"History is written by the winners."

- Proverb

Darkness. Darkness of the night was wrapped around the forest land, and cold that it brought with it was that of the night. The only light that touched the moss-covered floor was the moonlight that made it through the treetops. Like the knife it cut the air and dropped its tempting silver on the ground. This was the time of evil, time of the Goddess, time of The Moon. Unnaturally big and shiny it announced danger and death, for it was full.

A silhouette of a young woman staggered from the dark. Her face wasn't visible, but her long hair was like the cushion of black velvet. The silent growling that was calling her closer was that evil from which her whole village was trembling.

She stopped and hid herself behind a tree trunk. She could hear the beast sniffing the air. It smelled her and she smelled it – the smell of a wet dog and that smell of blood.

The beast smelled her out. It snarled into her direction and she knew that she didn't have a choice. If she wanted to get closer to it she had to find her courage. She mustn't show fear; if she did her life would be over.

The snarling became louder when she took a few deep breaths. She stepped away from her hiding place and faced the powerful monster.

It had long limbs and a huge body. It was hard to believe that it looked like this on only one night of the month. Long wolf snout was full of sharp teeth which were snapping towards her, trying to reach her, but couldn't. Its left leg was stuck in the silver trap. When it pulled, it yelped and retreated.

Big glassy eyes would wake the fear inside the bravest warrior of the Sun. But she wasn't the one of the Sun, she was evil and she was like these beasts. She was a beast herself, but notthroughout the whole month. She was the daughter of The Moon … daughter of the evil.

The cold she gave off confused the cursed being. She held up her arms and showed her hands so the beast could make sure she didn't have any weapons for its destruction. She slowly stepped towards the furry thing and while doing so she held her eyes on its. The cold fog of its loud breathing wrapped around her like a cloud of smoke. The stink of the dog breath wasn't bothering her.

Then she saw something in its eyes … something she knew. Was it possible that this monster was originally from her village? Her look changed and the beast felt it. It barked out loud and snapped towards her.

She dropped her look to the ground. She knew that look of fear did more damage than no look at all. She subordinated and closed her hands.

The beast quieted down in time. This was what it was like when things got complicated. Every encounter with the werewolf had to be done like it was your first.

Gray fur was stained with blood. The beast was old. She didn't asked herself again from where she knew it … she mustn't. She kneeled next to the trap that gave her brother such pain. It was her brother – it was the son of the evil of the night. Son of the Goddess and cursed from the God.

She slowly reached towards the silver that was stained with cursed blood. She needed to stay calm and humble. Not showing any fear. Only one wrong thought and everything would end with death.

She screwed off the hinge and pulled with all of her strength to break apart the teeth that hurt the cursed one. After a moment or two it finally let go.

The injury was deep and sure to be very painful. Silver sipped into the blood fast and the beast would feel pain for few more full moons … She wasn't even sure if it will ever heal completely.

Snarling became louder once again. Now that the beast was free, her kneeling in front of it seemed like the sacrificial lamb offering.

Slowly she got up and started to retreat backwards. At this time all she could relay on was her hearing, because she was still facing the floor. She felt the ground shook when the werewolf stepped towards her. She backed off into the shadow of the tree, but she knew that sight wasn't the only thing guiding it. It was her smell.

The beast gave out a loud roar and jumped on her. That was always the problem with saving a werewolf – you cannot expect any mercy. She looked up and for a moment she saw the angry eyes, thirsty for blood. She leapt from the floor and grabbed the lowest branch of the tree. With all her might she pulled herself on to it.

The werewolf stopped a couple of feet away. It didn't expect such a fast retreat. Its next attack was already coming. It was at least seven feet tall and being this close to the ground she couldn't save herself, so she started climbing higher. It jumped and the branch underneath her broke.

Her brother spat it out and jumped again.

Treetop meant little security, but it was something. She turned around and climbed higher, when she felt the weight pulling her to the ground. She grabbed the branch and tried to shake of the cursed being that dug its teeth into the sole of her boot. The weight was much too heavy for her and she feet herself losing the grip on the branch.

She used the other foot to take off her boot. Suddenly the weight disappeared and the beast fell to the ground, wildly shaking the shoe. A minute later the mess in his mouth wasn't recognizable anymore.

She climbed down on the other side of the trunk and hid herself from the wolf's eyes. It was busy with the weird contraption that was her boot. She took off the other one and threw it at the confused werewolf.

The thing hit its head and bounced from it. It attacked the object without further delay. She used the moment to jump off her shelter.

She ran into the darkness of the night.

She stopped only when she reached the shore. The bay mirrored peacefulness and water was like a mirror for the Goddess, whose light gave the power to their curse. She set on the rock and started pulling the thorns out of her feet. We all must pay in blood and pain.

She was wondering if the gray wolf was going to remember her … She didn't remember it. She couldn't connect it to anyone from her village, but she recognized its eyes from somewhere – not the glassy ones but the ones behind them.

Her village worshiped God. It was good and it was the Sun that painted this country gold. The Moon was the one who carried silver, darkness and curse. And werewolves were her sons.

Daughter of The Moon – that what her father called her before he died. At thirteen, she was forced to enter the village, to mingle, to gain their trust. Her mind hadn't changed, though. She was of the Moon and because of that she needed to help her brothers.

Even her physical appearance was different. People from the village were bright skinned, they had bright eyes and they had fair hair. Her hair was black and she had dark red skin and big black eyes.

She took off her small backpack and fished her small vials and dried plant leaves out of it. That was her life – healing. Even from her young age she knew the eternal power of the plants. That was her excuse for leaving the village on the full moon. Some of the most powerful plants bloomed only in the moonlight of her full Mother.

She covered her wounds with liquid. There was sharp pain, and then nothing. She put away the glass vial, and took a good look at her foot for the last time. For a moment her eyes slipped to the other side of the black bay.

Her look stopped on the dark silhouette lying there. It was big … and it looked dead. Another werewolf. Even if it looked lifeless, she knew it wasn't. Werewolf change back to human after their death.

She jumped from the rock onto the stones that covered the shore. She stepped closer to water for a better view.

Yes, it was a werewolf and it was hurt. She once again felt the need to help her brother. She looked around, search for the fastest way to it. Her route would have to take her around the whole bay.

Unknowingly her look stopped on the silver orb above her.

The Moon … Goddess … bringer of evil.

She couldn't see anything else than the silver orb. Her senses shut down. With her eyes focused only on the moon she did a step forward – into the water. The liquid didn't touch her, instead her feet stopped right above the surface. The only disturbance to the water were small ripples that traveled away in a perfect circle.

She took another step and another.

The moon that pulled her across the bay guided her. Her mind was shut to the world.

When she reached the other side of the bay, she blinked for the first time. Shaking her head and then looking around, she tried to determine the cause of her blackout. But this wasn't her first time and she didn't think into it too much. She reached many impossible places this way, without any knowledge of the road to it.

Remembering what she was doing here, she ran towards the lying thing. It was in breathing in loud and deep gasps. She kneeled next to it and cautiously touched its fur. It was brown and its hair was thick. Young, she knew. It didn't respond to her touch; it just lied there, catching the air like it was going through its last breaths.

Then she saw it – the wound in his hip – the shot wound. Night Hunters, she thought. They were the people of the day. They served God and they weren't afraid of the night. They probably weren't that far away now.

She opened up the wound and looked into it. Deep gash in the meat was certainty one of extreme pain. She remembered the old saying for the second time that night: We all shall pay in blood and pain. She saw the shining, deep in the wound. Silver bullet. Since they discovered their weakness, that metal adorned every trap and every bullet.

The pain that it caused was terrible. She herself was allergic to silver. Every creature of the Goddess was. But her allergy was weak if she compared it to that of the werewolf.

When she reached inside the wound with her hand, the beast groaned. The meat she touched was tender.

"Shh," she quietly soothed it and put the other hand on the beast's fur as it was only a little puppy. "Steady."

After what felt like forever her hand reached the cold metal. She felt the burning pain on her skin, and ignored it.

Voices touched her hearing then and she looked up in the distance. They still seemed far away but their path was directed towards her. They probably followed the beast to finish their job.

She pulled the bullet out and dropped it into her pocket. This one won't hurt any more of her brothers. She took the vile with dark liquid inside and opened it. Nasty acid smell made her hold it as far away from her as possible. She then poured the whole continents of it into the wound of the beast.

The smoke started to rise out and beast roared out loud, jumped up, ready to kill.

She stepped back, knowing she was too slow.

The beast stopped right in the middle of the attack, as if it changed its mind. Staring at her with its brown eyes. She was shocked by this action, to say the least. Werewolves didn't act like this, werewolves didn't stop their attack. As it was able to determine she was its rescuer and decided to spare her.

The voices came closer and in the distance the light of torches could be seen. Both heads – one of the wolf and one of the human – turned in that direction, and then stared back at each other.

She didn't drop her eyes like her experience told her she should. She was being pulled forward – as if this wasn't a beast in front of her. The eyes, they were so understanding, thoughtful … human. Does it actually understand the situation we're in?

She pulled her head between her shoulders. She was outside in the middle of the night and she knew what will happen if the Night Hunters caught her.

Werewolf looked at her – confused – and then it … nodded?

On all fours it stampeded towards the light of torches and she barely stopped herself to scream after it.

The werewolf stopped a couple of feet from the crowd and loudly roared at it. There was the sound of shots, which obviously missed, and the beast jumped high in the air and landed more than ten feet away in the thick copse where the forest started. The crowd loudly followed it, not noticing the girl at all.

She stood there – confused – watching the spot where the group disappeared. She still couldn't figure out what just happened. A werewolf risked its own life for a life of someone else. In all her years of saving these creatures, not once had she thought about the possibility of it.

Frozen to the ground she stood there for a long time, listening. She heard distant shouting and roaring that was louder than the voices of the hunters.

Lost in thoughts she took off around the bay. She was tired and she needed rest.

Walking in the shadows of the trees, she let herself breathe more calmly once she saw her cabin. It was a small, one-room size. The two windows were decorated with pots of overgrown plants. She took the key from her pocked and unlocked the door that probably wouldn't stop the attack of an angry werewolf with the ambition of finding its way inside the cabin. It was a simple working place for an alchemist. She dropped her backpack and walked back outside.

She lowered herself to the bush that was blooming. Marveling at its white flowers, that were like ghostly figures in the dark, for a little while. Using a special brush she dusted its glowing pollen into a wooden bowl.

Moon flower that was blooming only at full moon had an extraordinary power. It could defeat the burning power of the silver. It was her life's goal. She wanted to save her brothers from this poison.

When she put the bowl on the table she turned to look at the mess her cabin was in. Bowls and glass bottles were everywhere, some of them on the floor some of them opened and never again closed … surgical tools was lying all around … her notes on the bottom of the mess were full of graphical pictures, numbers and recipes that were scribbled without any order.

From the mess she pulled one of the notes that took only half of the yellowed page. She found a charcoal under the table and crossed the moon flower off the list, but now she circled the one written below it the root of the high plant. She was fruitlessly searching for this plant for a while now. It had to grow in this forest – the village Lexicon of Known Flowers described it.

She shook her head off doubts and dropped the paper. Stumbled towards the bed, she took off her clothes and collapsed onto the pillow. Hardly having enough power to cover herself with the blanket from goat's skin, she fell asleep.

"You're not afraid of the dark, are you?"

- Riddick, Pitch Black

A/N: This story is already completed as you can see, so don't worry about that. I'm writing War of Wings still, but since sometimes I just want to rewrite something (and I'm forbidding myself to rewrite WOW until it's complete), so I went back to my first story. And, heaven knows it needs it. So far, only 1st chap is rewritten. More to come soon, do not worry.

REVIEW if you can find it in you!