The forest was quiet again. Too quiet.
The kind of silence that didn't mean peace — it meant the world was waiting to see what we'd do next.
Luca's blade dripped silver light, faint but pulsing. I could smell the burnt air, the residue of the shadow creature that had tried to tear its way through reality. It left a scar — not on the ground, but in me. I could feel it, a faint ache under my ribs, where the Moon's power hummed louder than usual.
Luca crouched near the ashes, running a finger through the remnants. The faint shimmer that clung to his skin looked like starlight, but when he spoke, his voice carried no awe.
"They were scouts," he said. "Testing the barrier."
"Which barrier?" I asked, still catching my breath.
"The one that keeps the Umbra from crossing into the mortal side." His jaw tightened. "It's weakening."
I swallowed hard. "Because of me?"
He didn't answer — but his silence was enough.
I looked up at the moonlight filtering through the trees. For the first time, it didn't feel like comfort. It felt like surveillance.
You wanted this, a whisper crawled through my mind, too faint to call a voice, too sharp to ignore. You asked to be seen.
I blinked and shook my head. "Stop that."
"Stop what?" Luca asked.
"Nothing," I lied.
He looked up, eyes narrowing. "It's speaking to you again, isn't it?"
I hated how easily he read me. "It's not speaking. It's... remembering. Through me."
"Aria, that's not normal."
"Neither are we."
The edge in my tone made him flinch. He stood, running a hand through his hair, frustration radiating off him in waves. "You think I like this? You think I want you caught in something you don't even understand?"
I stepped closer, my anger burning into something sharper. "Then teach me. Don't protect me, don't lie to me — teach me."
For a long moment, he didn't move. Then something shifted in his eyes — resignation, or maybe recognition.
"All right," he said quietly. "But you can't unlearn what I'll show you."
"I don't want to unlearn anything," I said. "I just want to stop being afraid of my own blood."
He smiled faintly, almost sadly. "Then you'll need to see where it came from."
---
We left the forest just before dawn, moving through the misted fields that surrounded the Vale ruins. The stone archways looked ancient, but I could feel the faint vibration beneath them — old magic, buried and breathing.
"This place," I whispered, "it feels… alive."
"It should," Luca replied. "It's where your line began."
I stopped cold. "My line?"
"The Vales weren't just healers," he said, his voice low. "They were the Moon's chosen once. The first to bear her light in human form."
My throat tightened. "You mean—"
"Yes," he said. "You were never meant to be born mortal."
That hit harder than any blow I'd taken in the forest. My heart pounded, the truth clawing its way through my ribs. "So what am I, Luca? What does that make me?"
He turned toward me, eyes silver under the morning haze. "A bridge. Between what was divine… and what was damned."
I laughed, a hollow, incredulous sound. "That's poetic. And terrifying."
He stepped closer, the air tightening between us again. "You think poetry isn't terrifying?"
I met his gaze, refusing to look away. "Then why does it feel like I'm the verse and you're the rhyme?"
He froze, and for a second, something almost human flickered across his face. The wolf in him retreated, just slightly. "You shouldn't say things like that."
"Why? Because it's true?"
"No," he said softly. "Because I might believe you."
And there it was again — that near-touch, that unbearable gravity between us.
If he moved an inch closer, if I breathed wrong, the world might tilt again.
But before it could happen, the earth shuddered.
A sound rose from the ruins — low, echoing, ancient. The ground beneath the archway glowed faintly with lunar symbols, spiraling outward like veins of light. I stumbled back, shielding my eyes.
"Luca—what's happening?"
He looked pale. "The Moon's Gate is responding to you."
The symbols flared brighter, and then, for a heartbeat, I saw something impossible — silhouettes moving within the light. A woman with hair like frost. A man with eyes like midnight. Voices murmured from another time, another world.
Then it all went dark.
I opened my eyes to find myself on the ground, the air thick with ozone. Luca knelt beside me, his hand gripping mine.
"Aria. Stay with me."
"I saw them," I whispered. "The ones before me."
He didn't ask what that meant — maybe because he already knew. "The Moon's chosen," he said quietly. "The ancestors. You've awakened them."
The word awakened echoed through my head like a curse.
"What happens now?" I asked.
He looked toward the horizon, where the moon was fading into dawn. "Now, the world starts remembering you."
---
That night, as the Moon rose again, I stood alone by the ruins. The air felt charged, thick with secrets. The whispers had stopped, but I could sense the attention — the way the lunar light bent toward me, reverent and hungry.
And for the first time, I didn't run from it.
Because somewhere deep down, I understood the truth — this wasn't the beginning of my story.
It was the continuation of one that had started long before I was born.