The Sanctuary no longer felt peaceful.
It was alive — whispering, breathing, watching. The air pulsed faintly, like a heartbeat buried beneath the soil. Every now and then, I'd catch the faint shimmer of figures between the trees — ghostlike wolves, translucent and silent, watching me with eyes that gleamed like moonlight through water.
Luca said they were guardians. I wasn't sure if they were guarding me… or guarding the world from me.
---
For days, we stayed there, learning the rules of this forgotten place.
By day, I trained.
By night, I dreamed.
And the line between both started to blur.
The Sanctuary had its own way of teaching — not through words, but through visions. When I touched the crystal pools scattered across the valley, memories that weren't mine would flicker through my mind: wolves howling beneath blood-red skies, a woman with silver eyes standing before gods who cowered in fear, and the sound of a heart cracking like thunder.
Every time I pulled away, my hands glowed a little brighter.
"Your power's waking up," Luca said, leaning against a tree, arms folded. "You're getting faster at controlling it."
"Faster, yes," I said, panting. "But not safer."
He smirked. "Safe is overrated."
"You would say that."
He shrugged, the corner of his mouth twitching. "I'm cursed. You're celestial. Neither of us are built for normal."
---
That night, the dreams deepened.
I found myself standing in a vast hall made of glass and shadow. The moon hung low, enormous, its light spilling through the cracks in the ceiling. A woman stood there — the same one from the visions. She looked like me, but older. Her hair shimmered silver-white, her expression calm but full of grief.
"You're late," she said.
"Who are you?" I whispered.
She smiled sadly. "I am what you'll become… if you're not careful."
My throat tightened. "What does that mean?"
"It means your power doesn't serve you — not yet. It remembers what it once was. You must teach it to forget."
"Forget what?"
Her gaze shifted toward the moon. "That the world deserves to burn."
Before I could answer, the ground fractured, and she dissolved into light.
---
I woke with a gasp. Luca was sitting nearby, sharpening a blade by the fire.
"Another dream?" he asked, not looking up.
"She looked like me," I said. "Said she was what I'll become."
He froze for a moment. "Did she say anything else?"
"Something about forgetting the world deserves to burn."
He sighed softly, running a hand through his hair. "That's what they call Lunaris memory. It's not prophecy. It's instinct — old as creation. You're fighting the same rage your ancestors unleashed."
"So it's in my blood to destroy things?"
He met my eyes then. "It's in your blood to choose not to."
---
Days passed.
We trained harder. The Sanctuary began to respond to me — not resisting, but resonating. When I moved, the air shimmered; when I concentrated, even the leaves seemed to pulse with light.
Still, every victory came with exhaustion that burrowed into my bones.
One evening, as I knelt beside a crystal pool, the reflection rippled — but not from my touch.
Malachai's face appeared in the water.
His smile was slow and cruel. "Found your little graveyard, have you?"
I recoiled. "How—"
"Nothing sacred stays hidden forever," he said. "The moon bleeds again soon. When it does, no sanctuary will save you."
The water went black, swallowing his image.
Luca appeared instantly, sensing the disturbance. "What happened?"
"He knows," I said quietly. "He knows where we are."
---
That night, I couldn't sleep. I wandered toward the edge of the valley, where the silver trees gave way to cliffs overlooking an endless drop of mist. The moon hung full and white, its reflection rippling across the clouds like an ocean of ghosts.
Luca found me there, silent as always.
"You should rest," he said.
"I can't."
He stepped beside me. "You're afraid."
"Wouldn't you be?"
He hesitated, then said, "Constantly."
I glanced at him. "You hide it well."
"That's the trick," he murmured, "to surviving long enough for the fear to matter."
We stood there for a while — close enough that I could feel the warmth radiating from him, despite the cold air.
When he turned to look at me, there was something different in his expression. Not pity. Not duty. Something heavier, softer.
"I've spent my whole life running from the thing that cursed me," he said. "Now I think maybe it led me to the only person who can break it."
My chest tightened. "Luca—"
He shook his head slightly, eyes never leaving mine. "Don't say anything. Just… stay alive long enough to make it mean something."
Before I could reply, he stepped back — too quickly — and the distance between us felt suddenly unbearable.
---
At dawn, the valley trembled again. The silver light dimmed, the air turning cold and sharp.
The First's voice echoed faintly through the trees:
> "The red moon rises. Destiny calls her name."
Luca grabbed his sword. "It's starting."
I looked toward the horizon. The edge of the moon was turning crimson.
Whatever peace we had found here — it was over.