Chapter 7- The Broken Moon Part 1

That night, we made camp in the lee of a blackened ridge, where the wind howled like a restless spirit dragging its grief across the stones.

The fire we built struggled against the cold, its flames flickering weakly - a fragile bloom of light in a world consumed by shadow. Sparks rose only to be snatched away by the wind, vanishing before they reached the dark above. Danny huddled close, rubbing his hands together for warmth, his breath rising in pale wisps. The emptiness on the other side of the fire - where Flahera would have sat, wrapped in her cloak and spinning stories to keep the night at bay - felt like a wound.

"She used to tell stories," I said quietly, surprising even myself with the sound of my voice. "When the nights grew long. About the Six Stones - their creation."

Danny looked up, the firelight catching in his eyes. "You mean those relics you mentioned before?"

I nodded, my gaze fixed on the flames. "She said the stones were carved from the body of the first god. Six fragments of existence: Earth, Water, Sun, Moon, Life, and Death. Each one bound to a kingdom - each one a breath of the world itself." I reached out, tracing a circle in the dirt with my glove. "When they are whole, the world breathes. When one is taken..." I lifted my hand to the barren wasteland around us, to the dead trees and the colorless sky. "...this happens."

Danny was silent for a long moment. The fire painted his face in gold and shadow. "Do you think they're still out there?" he asked softly. "All six?"

"They have to be," I whispered. "Or the world would already be gone."

The fire popped, sending a shower of sparks into the dark. We both watched them fade before the night swallowed them whole.

Somewhere beyond the ridge, a sound drifted through the cold - long and low, neither animal nor human. It was mournful, the kind of sound that felt like the land itself was remembering it had once been alive.

Danny's eyes didn't leave the darkness. "You ever wonder what happens if all six come together again?"

I hesitated, the question hanging between us like smoke. The wind shifted, carrying the faint scent of snow - or maybe ash.

"Flahera said it depends who calls them," I murmured. "A god reborn... or a god destroyed."

The fire guttered, dimming for a heartbeat, and the shadows seemed to lean closer.

And in that fragile, flickering light, I found myself wondering which one of us the world would call destroyer.

---

Later, when he slept, I felt it.

It came first as a ripple - a subtle shift in the air, as if the world itself had drawn a breath and forgotten to let it go. The hairs on my arms lifted. The fire shuddered, its light shrinking to a nervous glow. Beneath the earth, something stirred - not movement, exactly, but presence. A pulse, faint but alive.

Then the ground trembled once. Just once. Enough to make the embers jump and scatter red across the dirt. My pendant flared cold against my skin - so cold it burned.

He's close.

The thought wasn't mine, but it slid into my head as easily as breath. The voice followed - soft as silk, sharp as a blade.

"You can't hide forever, little moon. I see every shadow you cast."

His words brushed against my mind like a whisper meant for someone standing just behind me. Every instinct screamed to run, to draw my blade, to do something - but the voice was not of flesh or distance. It was already inside.

I swallowed hard, forcing my breath to steady. The temptation to answer - to scream into the dark and prove I wasn't afraid - clawed at my throat. But that was how he worked. He wanted me to speak. To open the door.

Instead, I closed my eyes and began to whisper an old ward - one the Queen herself had taught me. A prayer of moonlight, spoken in the language of silver flame. My voice was barely audible over the wind, but the moment the last syllable left my lips, the fire steadied. The pulse faded.

And the world exhaled again.

When Danny stirred beside the fire, I was already lying still, my eyes half-closed, pretending to sleep. The pendant at my throat had gone cold once more - not lifeless, but waiting.

In the distance, thunder rolled low across the mountains, though the sky above was clear.

The Warlock knew I was coming.

---

By dawn, the wind had changed.

It carried with it the scent of ash and rain - the smell of something long dead, yet not gone. It clung to the back of my throat, heavy with memory. The world felt as if it had been burned and left to cool too quickly, the air brittle with the weight of what had been lost.

We rode beneath a sky torn between gold and gray, caught in that uneasy hour when the sun had not yet claimed the day and the night refused to surrender. The light bled across the horizon in uneven strokes, like an old wound struggling to heal. Each mile we traveled drew us closer to the ruins... and deeper into that unseen pull behind my ribs - a tether tightening with every breath, every heartbeat.

The silence between us had grown companionable, though not comforting. Danny's horse clopped steadily behind mine, the rhythm slow, deliberate, as if even the animals felt the fatigue of the road. The world itself seemed tired - every stone, every shadow sagging under the weight of something ancient and unfinished.

So was I.

But when we crested the ridge, I saw it - pale and fractured above the clouds. The moon hung low, bleeding faint light through the mist, its surface broken and veined with shadow. A scar in the sky.

I slowed my horse, staring at it as the wind shifted, carrying the faintest hum - almost too low to hear, but alive. The sound of power stirring. Of memory returning.

Whatever awaited beyond that ridge would not be kind.

And whatever I found there... I knew it would change everything.

-

We ride east until the forests turn to wasteland.

The air grows still the farther we go, the birds vanishing first, then even the insects. The road-if you could call it that-is a line of broken stone veins running beneath a sky the color of bruised steel. Every hoofbeat from Midnight sounds too loud, echoing through the emptiness like a heartbeat in a tomb.

Danny rides behind me, silent. He hasn't asked where we're going again. He just watches.

I can feel it-his unease, his thoughts. He still doesn't understand what it means to ride toward a place that no longer breathes.

By the time the first black pillars of stone rise into view, the sun has begun to sink behind a horizon thick with gray. The ruins of my childhood home lie ahead-what remains of the Witchlands, once vibrant with song and firelight, now a skeleton of memory and ash.

Midnight slows without my command. Even she feels it. I dismount, boots crunching on scorched soil. The scent of burned sage still lingers here after all these years. The ground glows faintly in places where magic once lived-like dying embers refusing to fade.

Danny slides off the saddle, glancing around. "What happened here?"

I run my fingers along the cracked wall, tracing symbols half-buried by time. The past lingers here-in the stone, in the soot, in the ghosts of fire that took everything from me.

"Death," I murmur. "No one remembers how it began. Some say a siege. Others whisper of a child's curse that summoned the enemy."

My eyes drift toward the horizon. "It ended the same either way. Fire. Screams. Silence."

He studies me, something gentler in his gaze than I expect. "You were here."

I nod once. "Fourteen winters ago."

His breath leaves him slowly as he looks around the ruins. "And you came back."

"I didn't have a choice." My voice sounds steadier than I feel. "When souls cry out like that, it means something's been disturbed. The witches once guarded a relic here-the Veilstone. It was said to hold the boundary between the living and the dead. When it shattered, the veil fell with it..."

The rest won't come. The words taste like ash.

We move together through what was once a street. Shards of pottery crunch beneath our boots, toys of long-dead children half-buried in dust. As we pass, I hear it-a whisper, faint and bodiless. Too soft to understand.

Danny stops when he sees what's left of the castle. The central tower has collapsed inward, half-swallowed by vines and rubble. He says softly, "You lived there?"

"For a time," I say. "Before the flames."

We step through the broken archway. Inside, the shadows cling thick and cold. My pulse slows, matching the rhythm of the place, as though the ruins themselves are breathing through me. The pull grows stronger the deeper we go-like a hand tugging at my chest.

At the far end of what once was the throne hall lies a raised altar of black stone. It is cracked down the middle. I kneel before it and whisper, "Enots fo sluos emo cot ym dnah."

Light flares between my fingers, forming a small, broken stone-smooth and gray, marked by faint white veins. When I hold it up, the air hums faintly in recognition. The altar answers with a glow of its own-six hollow sockets carved into its surface. Only five shimmer faintly.

One is empty.

My stomach tightens. "The Veilstone," I whisper. "It's gone."

Danny kneels beside me. "So that's what caused all this?"

I shake my head. "This?" I gesture to the ruins. "No. That was only the beginning. The stones are the foundation of our world. Six aspects of existence: Earth, Water, Sun, Moon, Life, and Death. Each kingdom guards one. Together, they keep balance."

"And if they're disturbed?"

"Then balance dies," I say, turning to him. "The earth cracks, rivers turn to dust, the sun burns the sky, and the moon loses its light. Without the stones, there is nothing. And if one is already gone..." I let the rest hang heavy between us.

Danny's face darkens. "We can find it. There has to be a way."

Something inside me twists-hope, maybe. I crush it quickly. "You think it's that simple? These stones aren't just artifacts, Danny. They're alive. They choose who can wield them, and they punish those who defy them."

He stands, defiant despite the fear in his eyes. "Then we'll make them listen."

That spark-his stubbornness-cuts through the ruin's stillness like a flare. For a moment, I almost smile. Almost.

Then the whisper returns.

Louder this time.

You cannot save them, Luna. You failed once. You'll fail again.

The world tilts slightly. I steady myself against the altar. My breath fogs, even though the air is warm.

Danny grabs my shoulder. "Hey-are you okay?"

I swallow the pain, the trembling. "It's nothing."

But it isn't. I can feel it-the crack spreading beneath my skin. A faint violet shimmer traces up my left forearm, pulsing once before fading. My darkness, waking again.

I drop my hand to hide it and say quietly, "We're done here."

Danny hesitates. "That's it? We just leave?"

"There's nothing more to find." My voice is sharp, but it isn't for him-it's to keep myself from breaking. "If the stone is gone, it's already too late to save this place. The best we can do now is protect the others."

He doesn't move. "Then why do you look like you're about to fall apart?"

I turn away, pulling my cloak tighter. "Because I am."

Midnight's whinny cuts through the still air, impatient to leave. I climb into the saddle, motioning for Danny to follow. When he does, he says softly, "You don't have to do this alone."

That single sentence hits harder than I expect.

I don't look back. "You don't understand. This isn't your world."

He starts to reply, but I snap the reins, cutting him off. Midnight bolts forward, hooves pounding the earth. The ruins fade behind us, swallowed by distance and shadow.

The whisper follows anyway.Come home, cursed child. Your cracks have begun.

We ride until the horizon bleeds red.

The road curves along the edge of the old valley - dry now, its riverbed cracked and hollow. The wind stirs dust into spirals that rise and vanish before touching the sky. The world feels empty in a way I've never felt before.

Or maybe it's just me.

Danny hasn't spoken since the ruins. He rides behind me in silence, his hands light on the reins, his eyes fixed on the ground as though afraid the world will crumble if he looks up. Midnight's hooves make no sound now, only the wind and my own heartbeat echoing in my skull.

When the sun dips low enough that the shadows stretch like blades, I pull Midnight to a stop beside a dead oak. "We'll make camp here."

Danny dismounts, brushing dust from his clothes. He looks tired-worn in a way I've only ever seen in soldiers. I'm not sure if it's the journey or what he saw in those ruins that's changed him, but something in his eyes is older now.

I draw a circle in the dirt with my staff and whisper a simple warding spell. The runes light faintly blue, humming before fading to a dull glow. "That will keep the shades away," I say, sitting near the base of the tree.

Danny crouches nearby. "You really think they'd come after us?"

"They don't hunt the living," I murmur. "They hunt what's broken."

A pause. "So yes."

He studies me quietly. The fire between us crackles weakly, its warmth swallowed by the night wind.

Finally, he says, "You don't have to carry this alone, you know."

I look at him, unsure whether to laugh or scream. "You think I have a choice?"

"There's always a choice."

"Not for me." My voice comes out sharper than I intend. "This world was dying long before you fell into it, Danny. I was born to stop it from burning again. If I fail, every soul here - living or dead - will suffer."

He frowns. "That's not what your mother would've wanted, right? For you to destroy yourself trying to save everyone?"

The mention of her name hits like a blade. "You know nothing about what my mother wanted."

"I know she'd want you to live."

I stand before I even realize I've moved. The fire flickers in the sudden gust, shadows cutting across my face. "You think this is living? Watching kingdoms crumble while people starve and ghosts scream in their graves?"

He rises too, hands raised slightly. "I didn't say it was fair. But you can't fight everything alone, Luna. You'll-"

"-Lose control?" I snap. "Become what they all fear I already am?" I take a step closer, and the ground trembles beneath my boots. My vision blurs, veins of violet light pulsing faintly across my arms. "You have no idea what that feels like."

Danny doesn't move back. His voice softens instead. "Then tell me."

Something inside me cracks.

For a heartbeat, the world goes silent. The fire dies out. The air hums low and wrong, as if the night itself is holding its breath.

I can feel it - that second heartbeat beneath my own. The one that doesn't belong to me. It thrums in time with the dark energy beneath my skin, the power I swore I'd never use again.

"Stop..." I whisper, clutching my arm as the glow spreads up my shoulder. My staff rattles against the ground, reacting to the surge.

"Luna?" Danny steps forward, voice low. "Hey, it's okay-"

"Stay back!" The words burst out sharper than a blade. The magic lashes outward - a sudden shockwave that splits the earth between us, sending him stumbling back.

For a moment I see it - the fear in his eyes. Not of me, but for me. And somehow that hurts more.

The violet light fades slowly, flickering like dying embers. I fall to my knees, trembling. My pulse pounds against my ribs, too fast, too strong.

Danny kneels a few feet away, cautious but unafraid. "You're bleeding," he says quietly.

I look down. Blood trickles from the edges of glowing cracks on my left forearm. They close slowly, leaving faint silver scars behind. "It's nothing."

"It's not nothing, Luna. You nearly-" He stops himself, searching for the right word. "You're scaring yourself more than anyone else."

I exhale shakily, trying to steady my voice. "You should go back to the others."

"I'm not leaving you here alone."

"You should," I whisper, eyes on the dirt. "Because next time, I might not be able to stop."

The wind carries our silence for a long time. Then, quietly, he sits beside me, keeping a careful distance. The fire reignites on its own, as if pitying us both.

I stare into the flames, feeling the cold settle into my bones despite the heat.

The crack has been made.

The darkness has tasted air again.

And in that silence between heartbeats, I can hear it whisper from within:

You're not holding me back, Luna. I'm letting you pretend you can.