Chapter 9- The Road to Aeltharis -Part 3

By dusk, we found a hollow carved into the cliffside - a wound in the stone, deep enough to shield us from the wind. The climb had left me aching, my pulse unsteady, and the air itself seemed thin, stripped of warmth. Danny gathered what dry wood he could find, coaxing a reluctant flame to life. The fire crackled weakly at first, then grew, painting the cave walls in gold and ember tones.

I sat near the entrance, my staff laid across my lap, eyes fixed on the fog rolling below. It writhed like something alive, thick and blue-gray, swallowing the world beyond our ledge. From this height, the mountains looked like bones.

The fire's glow made the hollow feel smaller, safer - but outside, everything remained cold and vast and wrong.

Danny broke the silence first. His voice was soft, hesitant."When those things spoke to you... what did they say?"

I didn't answer right away. The flames blurred, their light bending through the faint shimmer of exhaustion clouding my eyes."They weren't just voices," I said finally. "They were memories. Souls that should have been at rest."

Danny's hands stilled over the fire. "And the stone you said was stolen - that's why?"

"Yes." I touched the Moonstone at my throat. It was cool now, heavy and quiet - a pulse beneath my fingers, faint but alive. "The Stone of Death and Souls binds the veil. Without it, the dead drift between realms - angry, lost. They follow what they remember."

He leaned closer to the fire, its light catching the line of his cheekbone. "Then we find it," he said.

I looked up sharply. "You think it's that simple? The moment we start searching, the Warlock will sense it. He'll sense me."

"Then let him." His tone was steady, too steady. "You said yourself you're tired of running."

The words cut through me - reckless, human, impossibly brave. I almost laughed."You're learning to sound like one of us," I said, shaking my head.

He smiled faintly, eyes reflecting firelight. "Maybe I'm starting to be."

He meant it. I could see it in the way his shoulders squared, in the quiet certainty beneath his exhaustion. He wasn't from this world, yet somehow it had already claimed him.

The thought unsettled me more than I wanted to admit.

For a long while, we sat in silence. The fire snapped and hissed, casting shadows that danced across the cave walls. Beyond the entrance, the mist kept moving - endless, patient, waiting.

And though I kept my eyes on it, what I truly feared wasn't out there at all.

It was within me.

---

Later, when Danny has drifted into sleep, I step outside the cave.

The fire behind me has burned down to embers, its faint orange glow barely touching the stone walls. Beyond the hollow, the night opens wide - vast and cold and alive with whispers. Wind rushes through the ravine in great, sighing breaths, carrying with it the scent of frost and something older.

The mountains below are lost to fog, a roiling sea of gray that moves like a living thing. From its depths, I hear it again - that voice. The same one that haunts the edge of my thoughts when the world goes quiet.

You can't protect them all, little moon.

The words settle in the air, softer than breath, but sharp enough to cut.

I square my shoulders and stare into the darkness. "Watch me," I whisper.

The Moonstone answers.

Light flares against my throat - not the clean silver of before, but something new. Silver laced with shadow, light and dark entwined like opposing currents of the same river. The glow spills across the rock beneath my feet, chasing the mist away in trembling waves.

And then I see it.

Far to the north, beyond the clouds and shifting fog, a faint silhouette burns against the horizon - towers of glass and sunfire, rising from the earth like a promise.

Aeltharis. The City of Light.

Closer than I imagined.

But so is the Warlock.

A shiver runs through me, though the wind has stilled. The world feels poised on a breath - a balance that could tip either way. I touch the Moonstone again. Its pulse is uneven beneath my fingertips, caught somewhere between warmth and cold.

Light and shadow. Life and death.

The same power that protects could one day destroy.

I turn back toward the cave, the faintest echo of the Warlock's laughter fading into the wind.

Tomorrow, we ride north.

-

By the time the sun crests the eastern peaks, the horizon burns with gold.

Aeltharis rises from the valley like a fragment of heaven - a city born from sunlight and dream. Towers of crystal and mirrored glass climb toward the sky, scattering dawn into rivers of color. Bridges of light span the river below, delicate as spun silver, their reflections trembling across the surface of the water. The air hums with warmth and power; even the wind smells different here - bright, sharp, touched by starlight.

It is breathtaking.And wrong.

The moment Midnight's hooves touch the outer path, I feel it - the quiet recoil, the rejection wrapped in radiance. The light bends away from me, as though recognizing something that should not exist. The pendant at my throat sears against my skin, pulsing fast, out of rhythm with my heart.

Danny notices before I can hide it. "Luna...?"

"I'm fine." My voice comes out rougher than I intend. I force a breath through my lungs, steadying the tremor in my hands. "Aeltharis just doesn't take kindly to shadows."

We ride closer. The road winds upward toward the Citadel gates, and the brilliance grows unbearable. The archways are carved from living gold, etched with runes so old they hum with the echo of creation. As we approach, the symbols ignite one by one - first soft and amber, then white-hot, until the light feels like judgment itself.

Midnight snorts, uneasy. The air around us ripples with power, pressing against my skin like heat before a storm.

The guards step forward - elves clad in armor traced with sunlight, faces half-hidden beneath gilded helms. When they see me, they hesitate. Spears lower; their formation falters.

I sit taller in the saddle, meeting their unease with practiced calm. "Princess Luna of Moonhaven," I announce. "By decree of Queen Sahen of Elarion and Queen Aerith of Moonhaven, I request audience with the High Sunlord regarding the safety of the Stones."

The soldiers exchange uneasy glances. One of them - their captain, by the mark upon his pauldron - steps forward. His eyes are molten gold, his expression unreadable.

"Your presence is... unexpected, Moonchild," he says at last. "The Sunstone's radiance falters in your shadow."

The words strike harder than a blade. I keep my face still, my voice steady. "I bring no harm," I say - though even as I speak, the pendant burns hotter, a silent contradiction. "Only warning."

The captain studies me for a long, measured heartbeat. Then he nods. "Enter, then. But know this-" His gaze sharpens, and for an instant, I swear the light around him flares brighter. "The light of Aeltharis reveals all. Nothing hides here. Not even truth."

A shiver runs down my spine.

If only he knew how much truth I carry.

As we pass beneath the golden archway, the runes blaze again - not in welcome, but in recognition. The air thrums, alive with power and suspicion. Danny rides silently beside me, eyes wide at the splendor around us, but I can feel his unease mirroring my own.

The light of Aeltharis may reveal all - but I am not sure the city will survive what it finds.

---

The streets of Aeltharis shimmered with sunlight.

Light flowed through crystal conduits that lined the avenues, weaving between domes and spires as if the city itself were made to channel the heavens. Every wall gleamed, every arch caught the dawn, and even the air seemed to hum with radiance. It was beautiful in a way that hurt to look at for too long - a beauty so perfect it left no room for anything human.

And yet, wherever we went, eyes followed me.

Their gazes slid over my cloak, to the amulet at my throat, and then to my face - and that was when the whispers began. They followed us like echoes, soft at first, then sharper, carrying farther than any sound should.

"That's her-the witch's daughter."
"She bears the Moonstone."
"Darkness follows her..."

Each word brushed against my skin like frost.

Danny walked close beside me, his hand hovering near the dagger Queen Sahen had given him. His expression stayed even, but I could feel the tension rolling off him in quiet waves. The golden streets reflected in his eyes, fractured and uncertain.

"They're not exactly subtle," he muttered under his breath.

"They never are." My voice came softer than I meant it to, edged with something older than anger. "The children of light see shadows everywhere."

He turned his head toward me. "And what do you see?"

I slowed my pace, caught by the question. The city around us pulsed - bright, unrelenting, alive with power. I could feel it pressing against me, searching for cracks in my resolve, for any hint of darkness it could name.

When I finally looked at him, his gaze didn't waver. He waited, patient, real - untouched by the glow that made everything else feel unreal.

"Balance," I said quietly. "And how easily it breaks."

The words hung between us, fragile as glass.

A bell tolled somewhere in the distance - soft, solemn, a note that lingered long after it should have faded. The sound seemed to ripple through the city, and the light shifted with it, dimming for just a moment, as though Aeltharis itself had taken a breath.

And in that flicker of shadow, the whispers began again.

---

The bells began to toll as we reached the Sunlord's temple - a sound so pure it seemed to split the air itself. Each note reverberated through the marble streets, clear as glass and sharp enough to ache behind my eyes. It was not music; it was a command. The entire city seemed to bow to its tone.

The temple rose before us like the heart of the sun. Its doors towered high, carved with spirals of flame and runes that caught and refracted the light until the whole façade shimmered. When the gates opened, heat and brilliance poured out like breath.

Inside, the hall was vast and endless. Gold and crystal intertwined along the walls, sunlight flowing through glass veins that pulsed with quiet life. The ceiling arched high above, carved with the constellations of the First Age - stars that had watched when gods still walked among men.

At the far end of the hall stood the High Sunlord.

He was radiant - almost unbearably so. Robes like fire, hair that burned with its own light, and eyes that held the weight of centuries. The air around him shimmered as though reality itself bent to make space for him.

"Lutilia Fletia Respiria," he said, his voice low and resonant, echoing off the golden walls. "Daughter of Moonhaven. Your name carries through the old prophecies."

I bowed slightly, the movement more habit than reverence. "I didn't come for prophecy," I said. My words sounded small against the vastness of the chamber. "I came for truth. The Stone of Death and Souls is missing. If the balance fails, even the Sunstone will-"

He lifted a hand, and the air went still.

"We know."

The word struck like a hammer. The silence that followed was absolute - heavy enough to make the world itself seem to stop breathing.

Danny shifted beside me, frowning. "Then why hasn't anyone-"

The Sunlord turned his gaze toward him. "Because," he said, "we were waiting for you."

Danny froze. "Me?"

The Sunlord's expression softened, though his voice remained calm and terrible. "The one from beyond. The Stranger-Who-Remembers. The mirror to her shadow."

A chill crawled up my spine. The air thickened with light - so bright it hurt to look at him. I stepped forward, putting myself between them, my pulse hammering in my throat.

"You'll explain that," I said. "Now."

But the Sunlord only smiled - slow, knowing, inevitable.

And then the light broke.

It didn't fade or dim - it shattered, splintering into a thousand brilliant fragments. The sound was like glass fracturing, like stars dying. Radiance exploded outward in a storm of blinding gold. The walls of the temple cracked; the constellations carved into the ceiling bled fire as the world itself trembled.

I reached for my staff - for the Moonstone - for anything that would hold me to the moment-

-but the light swallowed everything whole.

---

It happens in an instant.

A ripple cuts through the glass walls - deep, resonant, alive. The sound grows until it fills the chamber, a vibration that hums through bone and breath, like a scream swallowed by the sun. Then the light fractures.

The golden brilliance of the hall splinters into shards, and from the fissures in reality itself, they emerge.

Figures cloaked in silver flame. Faces hidden behind mirrored masks. Not human. Not elven. Something caught between - something wrong.

Corrupted.

"Warlock's Shades," I whisper. The words barely leave my lips. "He's here."

The Sunlord's voice thunders through the hall, calling for his guard, but the command is swallowed by chaos. The Shades move faster than light itself - their bodies rippling between existence and shadow. Wherever they step, radiance turns to ruin. Arrows dissolve before reaching their mark. The air reeks of ozone and scorched magic.

Danny's hand closes around my arm and wrenches me backward just as a blade of black fire slashes through the space where my throat had been. I twist, breath ragged, and the staff leaps into my hand as though it's been waiting. The crescent flares - pale blue, defiant against the encroaching dark.

"Lux lunaris deflecta!"

The words crash from my chest. A shield blossoms around us, translucent and shimmering, silver light spinning into a dome. The first Shade strikes - and evaporates on impact - but the recoil hits me like a blow. Agony spears through my veins.

The Moonstone at my throat convulses, light bleeding into shadow until both pulse together in a violent, living rhythm.

"Luna-your eyes-" Danny's voice cracks.

I don't need him to finish. I can feel it. One eye burns silver, the other violet - light and darkness sharing the same soul.

The darkness wants out.

Not yet. Not here.

But the Shades don't care.

Another wave surges forward, more numerous, more determined. One catches Danny and drags him toward the shattered doorway. He shouts my name - raw, desperate - and something inside me snaps clean in two.

The Moonstone ignites, white-hot against my skin. The world trembles. The air itself seems to scream.

For the first time, I stop fighting it.

"Tenebris lunam... liberare!"

The invocation rips from my throat, primal and absolute.

And the world explodes.

Light erupts - not pure, not holy - but fractured. Silver and black spiral together, twisting like twin storms. The Shades are obliterated in a single breath; the temple walls split from floor to spire. Constellations carved into crystal rain from the ceiling like shattered stars. Fire and frost collide in the air, roaring in unison until neither wins.

And then, silence.

The brightness fades, leaving behind ruin. The golden hall lies in shadow. Bodies - or what remains of them - are strewn across the floor like broken glass.

Danny kneels nearby, pale and trembling, but alive.

I lower my staff. My hands are shaking. My pulse is not my own.

The Moonstone hangs heavy against my chest, cracked through its heart - a thin, glowing fissure running from edge to edge.

The first true fracture.

A reminder that something inside me has broken too.

And in that terrible quiet, as the dust drifts down like falling ash, I know the Warlock has seen me.

He will not stop now.And neither will I.

---

Danny approaches carefully, his boots crunching over glass and broken stone. The air is still alive with echoes - a low, vibrating hum that trembles beneath the silence, as if the temple itself is trying to remember what it once was. Smoke drifts lazily upward, curling through the shafts of sunlight that spill through the shattered roof.

"Luna..." His voice is soft, uncertain. "What was that?"

I don't answer at first. My pulse is still racing, though my body feels hollow, like the light itself burned through me and left nothing behind. I look down at my hands.

The skin is pale - too pale - and beneath it, shadows move. Slow, sinuous, alive. They curl through my veins like living ink, pulsing faintly with each heartbeat.

"I don't know," I whisper. The words taste like ash. "But whatever it was... it wasn't me."

Danny stops a few paces away, studying me as though afraid to come closer. The light from above reflects in his eyes - gold and silver, fractured by the dust hanging in the air. Behind that light, I see it: the war between fear and something dangerously close to faith.

"Then what was it?" he asks quietly.

I lift my gaze toward the hole torn in the ceiling. Sunlight streams through the opening, pure and unrelenting. It floods the floor in brilliant ribbons, glinting off the shards of crystal and the pools of molten gold.

But it does not touch me.

The light bends away, like water skirting a stone. I can feel its warmth in the air, but none of it reaches my skin. It's as though the world itself has decided to step back.

"It was the part of me," I say softly, "that the darkness has been waiting for."

The words hang there, fragile and final. A truth I hadn't meant to speak aloud.

For a long time, neither of us moves. The only sound is the distant groan of the wounded city, the slow drip of melted gold cooling to stone. I can feel the Moonstone against my chest - cracked, still hot, still pulsing with that same unnatural rhythm.

And somewhere deep within me, beneath the light and the ruin, something stirs.

Something that isn't done