moon-frosts

[moon-frosts]

Trial of Synergy: Frost and Moonlight

The Sacred Flame burned quietly today, its glow reflecting in Charlotte’s dark eyes as she stood beside Lumi. The grove was silent except for the distant rush of wind between trees, as if the forest itself held its breath.

Mother Leno’s voice echoed in her mind: “True unity is not a promise spoken, but a power proven.”

Their trial was set before them—a labyrinth of ice mirrors conjured by the elders. Each turn twisted reality, reflecting illusions of past fears, desires, and doubts. To succeed, bonded pairs had to reach the heart of the labyrinth together, neither losing themselves to the reflections nor abandoning each other’s side.

Charlotte tightened her grip on Lumi’s thick fur. His breath misted in the cold air, ears flicking with impatience. He hated illusions, she knew. They reminded him of the spirits that mocked him as a creature of endings.

“It’s okay,” she whispered, pressing her forehead to his. “We’ll do this together.”

They stepped into the labyrinth. Immediately, the world fractured into countless reflections of them—Charlotte and Lumi walking side by side, Charlotte alone reaching for shadows, Lumi snarling at ghostly wolves, Charlotte sobbing as Rue faded into mist.

“Lumi…” Her voice trembled. “Ignore them. They’re not real.”

But Lumi growled low, his mane bristling. In each mirror he saw himself not as a proud guardian but as a monstrous, mindless beast of frost and ruin. His hackles raised higher, the cold deepening around them until Charlotte’s breath froze mid-air.

“They think you’re a monster,” the illusions whispered. “You are nothing but destruction. She cannot tame you. She fears you.”

“No!” Charlotte cried, pressing her palms to his chest, feeling the thunderous tremble of his rage beneath her fingers. “Lumi, look at me. LOOK AT ME.”

His blue eyes flicked to hers, wild with pain.

“You are not just frost and claws and death. You are Lumi. My Lumi. Powder snow. Gentle. Fierce. You are… home.”

The reflections around them flickered. Lumi’s snarl faded into a low whine, and he pressed his forehead against her shoulder, eyes closing.

The illusions shifted, showing her now: Charlotte kneeling in the snow, Rue’s warm smile melting away into empty darkness. “He will leave. Love fades. You will stand alone.”

Charlotte’s chest tightened, tears gathering at her lashes. Her knees threatened to buckle under the memories of her mother’s departure, her father’s grief, the loneliness that had always followed her like a second shadow.

Then she felt it—Lumi’s tail curling around her waist, his massive body pressing against hers like a living shield.

She looked up at him. He didn’t speak, but his presence whispered louder than words:

“You are not alone.”

Together, they stepped forward. The mirrors cracked, splintering into dust that drifted like falling snow. The illusions screamed and vanished into the cold.

When they reached the labyrinth’s heart, the Sacred Flame awaited them. Its silver-blue light bathed them in warmth. Charlotte pressed her face into Lumi’s fur and sobbed softly, feeling his deep rumble of pride and relief.

“We are stronger together,” she whispered.

Lumi licked the tears from her cheek, his frostbitten tongue leaving trails of numbing cold that somehow comforted her more than any warmth.

And in that moment, they both understood: this was not just a bond of contract or ritual. This was love. A love not born of blood, nor destined to end with parting, but one forged in trials, tempered in frost, and sealed under the silent gaze of the moon.

[moon-frosts]

Moonlight and Lumi

The dawn was pale and silent, the forest blanketed in soft mist. Charlotte sat beneath an ancient pine, her knees drawn to her chest, watching her breath cloud into the cold morning air. Beside her lay Lumi, his massive body curled like a drifting snowbank, fur shimmering with every faint glimmer of sunrise.

Their bond was still new. The ritual flames had barely cooled within her soul, and though their spirits were intertwined, trust was not born in a single night.

“Wake up, Lumi,” Charlotte murmured softly, brushing her fingers through his cold fur. “Let’s begin.”

His eyes opened slowly, glowing with quiet intelligence and something else—something guarded. He rose with silent grace, frost gathering where his paws touched the grass.

She stood and took a step back, heart fluttering. Today, she would teach him their first shared spell. Moonveil Frost—a shield of pale snowlight woven with her mana, meant to protect rather than harm. The spell was delicate and easily broken if her focus wavered. But she wanted him to know it. To know her.

“Watch me,” she whispered, raising her hand. The chill in the air thickened around her palm, forming a thin, shimmering veil of frost. It flickered, unstable, and she winced as it cracked and dissolved into the ground.

Lumi tilted his head, ears twitching. Then, without warning, he lunged forward, his crimson claws digging into the earth as he circled her, tail whipping the mist into whirling spirals. She stumbled back in surprise, heart hammering.

“Lumi—what are you—”

He growled low, not in threat but in challenge, and snapped his jaws towards her gently. Frost bloomed from his breath, brushing her cheek with an icy sting. She realised then: he was testing her focus.

“Fine,” she said under her breath, teeth chattering as her magic rose again. She formed the frost shield once more, and this time, Lumi lunged fully. His giant body slammed against her barrier, forcing her knees to buckle. The veil splintered but did not shatter.

She screamed from the effort but pushed back, her mana surging brighter and brighter until the frost around them burst into glowing flakes, illuminating the grove in pale moonlight despite the dawn.

Lumi stopped. His muzzle pressed against the shield, his cold breath fogging its surface. Then, slowly, he bowed his head.

Charlotte fell to her knees, tears hot against her frozen cheeks. She laughed, breathless, as he approached and pressed his forehead to hers.

“You’re cruel,” she whispered with a shaky smile. “But… thank you.”

His tail flicked once, sending a drift of powder snow over her shoulders like a silent embrace. In that moment, she realised he wasn’t just a creature of frost and endings. He was her mirror, her challenger, her silent protector.

They sat together as the sun rose higher, frost melting into glittering dew around them. No words were needed. Their souls had begun to stitch together, thread by thread, into something no contract alone could forge.

[moon-frosts]

The Summoning of Fenrir

The moon was at its highest peak, veiled in silver frost, as Charlotte stepped into the Sacred Grove. The scent of pine and ice flowers filled her lungs, grounding her trembling heart. She clutched the pendant of her mother at her throat, feeling its cold pulse against her skin. Tonight, she would forge her familiar contract.

Her breath misted in the moonlight as she approached the Sacred Flame, its blue-white glow flickering with an ancient magic older than any forest or star. Around her, the boughs of Sylvaris trees whispered, the wind carrying secrets of the spirits watching above.

She knelt before the fire, the memory of her trial still raw within her chest—her endurance against the frost, the whispers of her mother’s departure, her fear of Rue leaving her too. They haunted her steps, but tonight, she faced them all.

Slowly, she pulled a shard of ice from her satchel—a piece of frozen moonlit water from her birth river. It shimmered with the same dark glow as her hair under the moon. Holding it tightly, she pressed it to her lips, whispering,

“I stand beneath the moon, as my mother once did, as her mother before her. I offer this fragment of myself, my sorrow, my hope, my fear, and my love. Let my familiar be born not from my strength alone, but from all that I am—even my broken pieces.”

She cast the ice shard into the Sacred Flame. The fire roared in response, turning from pale blue to violent silver-white. The heat and chill merged, forcing Charlotte to shield her eyes as a fierce wind circled her, carrying voices only her spirit could hear.

“Love will betray you,” they hissed. “Your mother left. Rue will leave. You are destined to walk alone.”

“No…” she whispered, tears streaming down her cheeks and freezing against her skin. “Even if they leave, I will still love them. Even if love fades, I will protect it.”

The flames surged higher, and from within the heart of the fire, a colossal silhouette emerged. Its fur rippled like liquid snow, a mane of silver mist billowing behind it. Its piercing red eyes glowed with the clarity of a red moon, and its crimson claws burned like molten ruby against the frost.

Fenrir.

The wolf stepped forward, larger than any hound she had seen, yet its gaze held no malice—only an ancient sadness and strength she recognised within herself.

“I hear your call, Keeper of Moonlit Frost,” Fenrir spoke, its voice echoing in her soul like distant thunder. “Will you accept what I am? I am destruction, I am storm. I am the spirit of endings. Yet within endings, new beginnings are born.”

Charlotte placed her hand against Fenrir’s muzzle, the cold of his fur biting into her bones, yet soothing the trembling of her heart.

Her lips curved into a trembling smile. “Then… let your name be Lumi,” she whispered softly, voice thick with tears. “Snow, for all you are. Gentle, fleeting, fierce, eternal. Walk with me, Lumi. Share my burdens and my joys. I grant you shelter within my spirit, and in return, guide me with your truth. Together, we will endure until the moon forgets to rise.”

The Sacred Flame pulsed once, sealing their bond in a burst of frozen stardust. The grove fell silent, the only sound her breath mingling with Lumi’s low growl of acceptance.

That night, Charlotte did not walk back alone. The Keeper of Moonlit Frost had found her shadow—a familiar born not of her strength, but of her deepest vulnerability.

And with Lumi by her side, even the frost whispered its surrender.

[moon-frosts]

It’s been exactly one year since Charlotte met the group that would come to mean everything to her—Eugene, Aciano, Genie, Adam, Liam, Kalani, Nico, Zidane, Kathya, and of course, Calla. To celebrate their first anniversary as friends, Calla—always the vibrant spark of the group—organized a surprise long weekend at a dreamy, secluded villa by the hills. As their van pulled up to the gate and Charlotte stepped out with her bag slung over her shoulder, a strange sense of déjà vu washed over her. “Is it the villa? I think it is…” she murmured to herself, her eyes fixed on the ivy-draped balcony as something unplaceable stirred in her chest.

As everyone scrambled into the villa, laughter and excited chatter bounced off the walls. Calla, the mastermind of the trip, stood in the center of the foyer like a proud host. “Charlotte, yours is upstairs—second door on the left!” she called out, handing her the room key with a wink.

Charlotte climbed the stairs, her suitcase thumping gently behind her. When she opened the door to her room, her heart gave a soft flutter. The walls were a rosy pink, instantly wrapping her in a sense of comfort. A cozy bed sat by the corner with a round cat plush nestled among the pillows. On the rug sat a Kirby plush, arms wide open like he was welcoming her in.

A smile tugged at her lips. Someone had taken the time to make this space feel like her. There were twin monitors on a desk with a cute heart-back chair, and a shelf with cacti and books that looked like they’d been picked with care.

Calla really went all out, she thought, warmth blooming in her chest.

She set her suitcase on the bed and unzipped it, pulling out the three things she never traveled without: her camera, her phone, and her journal. Her fingers brushed the familiar leather cover of the journal before she set it gently on the bedside table. The camera, still warm from earlier snapshots, was placed on the desk, ready to capture every second of this weekend. And her phone, well—half her memories with this group lived inside it already.

This villa, this room, this moment—it was already becoming another one worth remembering.

(Growl) Uh, oh.

Charlotte’s stomach let out a dramatic rumble just as she stepped into the sunlit dining area. Golden beams danced across the wooden table where a warm, hearty lunch was already set. She helped herself to a sunny-side-up egg on toast, a few greens, sausages, miso soup, strawberries, and a much-needed cup of coffee. Bliss.

Just beyond the glass doors, laughter echoed from the pool area. Peeking through, she spotted three familiar figures already having the time of their lives. Nico was chilling like royalty on a giant pink flamingo floatie, Adam was dual-wielding water guns like a man on a mission, and poor Eugene—soaked and flailing—had clearly become the designated target. Charlotte snorted mid-sip. Some things never change.

Still, no swimming just yet. The villa weekend was only beginning, and chaos needed structure.

She stood up and clapped her hands like a commander in pastel pajamas. “Alright, troops! Before we all descend into pool madness, let’s get chores out of the way!”

She scribbled the list down on the whiteboard stuck to the fridge:

Villa Chores (Day 1)

🥣 Do the dishes: Genie & Zidane

🧹 Sweeping and mopping the floor: Kathya & Liam

🛒 Grocery shopping for dinner: Aciano, Kalani & Charlotte

🧺 Laundry duty: Calla (because she planned everything and deserves a quiet indoor task!)

🎵 Music DJ: Nico (you break it, you DJ it!)

“There! Fair and fabulous,” Charlotte announced proudly. “Now let’s eat, survive our chores, and reconvene for the pool party tonight.”

After finishing her part of the chores—grocery bags unpacked and kitchen restocked—Charlotte wiped the sweat from her brow dramatically and flopped onto the nearest bar stool. A heroic act, truly. But then… her eyes flicked to the fridge. Maybe, just maybe...

She opened it slowly, and bam! There it was.

The one thing she hadn’t dared to hope for: a big bowl of vanilla ice cream, drizzled with rich chocolate sauce and sprinkled with bits of chocolate flakes. Her eyes sparkled.

She spotted a tiny note beside the bowl.

“For Charlotte. Thought you might crave this. — Genie”

She clutched her chest like it was a scene from a telenovela. “Genie, you beautiful wizard of sweetness.”

Without hesitation, she grabbed a spoon and took the first blissful bite. Everything in the world felt right again.

Whoa, that was such a good treat! Heart and tummy both full, Charlotte wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and let out a soft, satisfied sigh. “Alright,” she murmured to herself, “fuel up, now fun up.”

She wandered out of the kitchen, following the sounds of chatter and the soft clink of cards against the table. There they were—Zidane, Eugene, and Aciano—huddled around a deck, mid-laugh, a small pile of snack wrappers beside them and one very competitive sparkle in their eyes.

“Room for one more?” Charlotte grinned, arms folded.

Zidane raised an eyebrow dramatically. “Only if you’re ready to lose.”

Charlotte smirked, pulling up a chair. “Oh, I’m not here to play fair. I’ve got ice cream power now.”

“Alright, ice cream girl,” Eugene chuckled, dealing her in. “Let’s see if you’re lucky or just full.”

Aciano slid her a few tokens. “Winner gets dibs on the biggest floatie later.”

“Deal,” she said, already scheming her first hand. Let the games begin.

(To be continued. Ngantuk min)

[moon-frosts]

Warmth Beneath the Frost.

I never thought love would feel like this—like holding a flame in the middle of a blizzard, so fragile, yet fiercely burning. I had always known I was different. Born under a moon veiled in ice, the daughter of a spirit mother and a human father, I grew up with the cold whispering to me. I was a Frostborn—Charlotte Élivanne. The Keeper of Moonlit Frost.

My mother left when I was still young, returning to the spirit realm, leaving behind only a pendant and silence. My father raised me with human hands and a guarded heart. I never blamed him. He loved fiercely but feared deeper. Perhaps he feared I would leave too, like she did.

So when I brought Rue home for the first time, I felt that chill return—not from the weather, but from the look in my father’s eyes.

Rue… Rue was unlike anyone I had met.

He was gentle, quiet in the way that pain makes a person speak softer, as though his voice might break if used too loudly. I’d met him in the gardens—those quiet places in our refuge where the wind hummed through silver leaves and the streams whispered lullabies. He was sitting alone, looking like he belonged to the shadows, yet the sunlight refused to leave him alone.

I was drawn to him immediately. Not because he was beautiful—though he was, in a sharp, haunted way—but because he looked like someone who had survived too many winters without warmth.

He told me once, in a whisper barely louder than the breeze, that he’d lost his family. That humans, afraid of Elves like him, had burned everything he knew. The way he said it—like he was the one at fault—broke something in me. I reached for his hand then, and I never let go.

But love… love asks for more than just affection. It asks for bravery. And today, bravery looked like Rue sitting stiffly across from my father, a steaming cup of tea trembling in his hands.

I sat beside him, my fingers curled protectively around his. My father hadn’t spoken a word since Rue arrived, his eyes as hard as the mountain stone behind our home. I knew that look. I knew the fear behind it. Not of Rue specifically—but of what loving someone like Rue could cost me.

“So,” my father finally said, voice rough like gravel. “You’re Rue.”

Rue looked up. I could feel the hesitation in his bones, the way his shoulders tensed, bracing for judgment.

“He’s kind,” I said before he could speak. “He’s brave. He’s not dangerous, Dad. He’s just… trying to live. Like me.”

My father’s gaze flicked to our joined hands. I knew he saw the truth in them.

Rue shifted, his voice raw when he finally spoke. “I won’t hurt her. Even if I don’t know how to promise that without fear.” He paused, his eyes flicking to me. “I’ve failed before. I lost everything once. But I won’t let that happen again. Not with her.”

I felt my heart lurch. There was pain in his honesty, but there was hope too. And for someone who had survived so much, hope was sacred.

My father leaned back, studied Rue for a moment longer, then exhaled. “You drink tea like it’s poison,” he muttered, and a ghost of a smirk curled on his lips.

Rue blinked, startled. Then he laughed—just a little, and it made my chest ache with something warm and good.

They talked more after that. Awkward at first, but slowly easing into something… familiar. My father, in his gruff way, asked about Rue’s past. Rue told him, carefully, piece by piece. And when he didn’t have the words, I squeezed his hand to remind him he didn’t have to face it alone.

By the time twilight painted the skies in violet and gold, the silence between them was no longer hostile—it was cautious, but open. When my father offered him another cup of tea, I knew we had taken the first step.

There is still fear, of course. There always will be. The frost in me remembers my mother’s leaving. The doubt in Rue remembers fire and ash.

But love… love is what remains when we choose each other anyway.

And I chose him.

[moon-frosts]

ᅠᅠ ᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠ

ᅠᅠ ᅠᅠᅠ◦◦,`°.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽.°`,◦◦

ᅠᅠ ᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠ

Daughter of the Moonlit Veil

In the forgotten tundras beyond the reach of mortals, there existed a rift between realms—a place where the moon never set, and the snow whispered secrets of the past. It was here, under the pale glow of an eternal night, that Charlotte Élivanne was born.

Her mother, Ilyara, was a Frostborn spirit—a being of celestial ice, guardian of the frozen veil that separated the spirit world from the mortal one. To the Frostborn, love was a fleeting thing, a concept bound by time, something they could never truly grasp. But Ilyara was different. She had watched the mortal world for centuries, fascinated by their warmth, their fleeting joys and sorrows. And in one fateful moment, she fell in love with a human man.

His name was Edric Élivanne, a wandering scholar who ventured into the ice fields in search of forgotten knowledge. Against all reason, Ilyara revealed herself to him. And from their love, Charlotte was born—a child of two worlds, belonging to neither.

Her birth was an anomaly. The Frostborn spirits saw her as a disruption—a being who should not exist, a crack in the balance of the celestial cold. A spirit bound by mortal blood was unheard of. She was never meant to be.

The elders of the Frostborn decreed that she could not stay. Ilyara, torn between love and duty, was forced to make a choice: erase Charlotte from existence or be exiled forever.

She refused to destroy her daughter.

So, on a night when the moon was at its highest, Ilyara fled with Charlotte in her arms. She carried her child across the frozen rift, stepping into the mortal world for the first time. But the Frostborn would not let her go so easily.

They came for her.

Edric could do nothing but watch as the sky split open and the ice spirits descended like a storm. Ilyara fought them off, desperate to protect Charlotte, but she was torn away, sealed behind the veil forever. Charlotte, too young to understand, was left behind in the snow, with only her father to care for her.

Years passed. Charlotte grew, but the ice never left her. She did not age like humans did. She did not feel the cold. And at night, when she closed her eyes, she heard whispers in the wind—a voice calling to her from beyond the veil.

Was it her mother? Was it something else?

One night, the whispers became too strong to ignore. A vision of a place she had never seen filled her mind—Sylvaris.

Without knowing why, Charlotte set out on a journey, guided only by an unseen force. Perhaps she would find answers. Perhaps she would find the truth of what she was.

Or perhaps… something was waiting for her to return.

[moon-frosts]

ᅠᅠ ᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠ

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

ᅠᅠ ᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠ

Frostborn Abilities:

1. Moonlit Frost

Her presence carries an aura of chilling serenity, causing frost to form subtly in the air around her. The colder the night, the stronger her aura becomes.

2. Silverveil Slumber

By touching someone’s forehead, she can ease pain and lull them into a deep, dreamless sleep, perfect for those suffering from exhaustion, nightmares, or distress.

3. Glacial Reprieve (Subtle Healing)

Instead of traditional healing, her frost numbs pain, slows bleeding, and prevents infection by sealing wounds in a thin layer of shimmering ice. It doesn’t heal instantly but stabilizes the injured.

4. Luminous Chill

In darkness, her ice emits a soft, silvery glow, acting as a guiding light or a way to mark safe paths.

5. Frostborne Whispers

She can commune with frozen elements, sensing past echoes trapped in ice or snow, making her able to retrieve lost memories from frozen places.

6. Moonshadow Step

Under the moonlight, she moves almost silently, her steps blending into the frost and shadows, making her difficult to track.

7. Celestial Fracture (Defensive Ability)

When in danger, a burst of sharp, reflective ice erupts around her like shattered moonlight, deflecting attacks for a brief moment.

8. Sacred Ice Purification (Limited Cure Ability)

Her frost can cleanse minor poisons and infections by freezing and breaking down impurities, though it is not effective against all ailments.

9. Breath of the Eternal Winter

Her exhaled breath in cold temperatures forms runes of frost, sometimes revealing hidden truths or warning of dangers unseen.

10. Lunar Bond (Passive)

Her abilities are strongest during full moons and become faint under the noonday sun.

[moon-frosts]

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣤⢤⡀⢀⡤⣤⡀

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠏⠀⠀ ⠁⠀⠀ ⠹⡀

⠀⠀⠀⠀⡴⠚⠶⣇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⡷⠛⠶⡀

⠀⠀⣀⣸⠀⢰⢀⡼⠷⣄⠀⠀⣀⡴⠿⡄⡴⠀⣽⣀⡀

⢀⡾⠀⠋⠉⡍⡿⡀⠁⡇⢻⡾⠁⡁⠇⡿⡈⠏⡉⡆⢸⡀

⡇⠹⣤⣳⣭⣾⠶⠿⠿⠿⠛⠛⠻⠿⠿⠶⣿⣬⣴⣡⠞ ⡇

⠈⣻⠛⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀　　　⠈⠛⣟⠁

[moon-frosts]

݂ ᅠᅠ ᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠ

݂ 𓍢ִ ݁ ⪧♡︎⪦ ׁ ֪ ׁ ۪ ⋆ ׁ ݂ ֔ 𝇋♡︎𝇌 ۪ ⳰⳱ 𓂋 ׅ ⁺

Disclaimer

I hereby declare that i'm not the real Chanelle Moon and not officially affiliated with the artist herself. this page is made strictly for roleplayer purpose only.

All the things that are posted in this page belong and are copyrighted to the rightful owner, i don't own anything.

Side notes

This account will be running as Multiverse with both as Gen and OC under name Charlotte Élivanne, as the writer already in her legal age, the explicit content may be posted irregularly, so minor do not interact.