Beneath The Moon: A Dawnblood Prophecy

HAYLEY.

I should be in a cheerful mood as today is my eighteenth birthday. But as I sit at the diner with my boyfriend, Theo, nothing about our meeting feels remotely cheery. Not with the solemn expression on his face.

He sits just across from me and his eyes hold a mix of quiet pain and frustration. It's a look I rarely see in him.

When I reach across the table to hold his hand, he slowly pulls away, and I tug at empty air. I watch his eyes fall to the table for a moment before lifting to meet mine again.

“I don’t think we can keep doing this, Hayley,” he mutters quietly. “I want to break up.”

His words hang in the air, and like a spell, they render me speechless. My chest constricts almost immediately, and I can feel the gears turning in my head as I struggle to make sense of what he's just said.

There's no way this can be happening. Not with Theo. Not after everything.

Exhaling, he leans forward on the diner table, clearly exasperated. “Say something, Hayley.”

Slowly, I lift my now glistened eyes to meet his. “Theo, I… we can’t…” I stutter weakly. “What are you saying?”

He looks at me, and for the first time ever, there’s no affection or warmth in his gaze. There's just a cold, distant stare.

“I can’t do this..” he says again, jabbing a finger between us. “Not anymore.”

His words are plain, devoid of any ounce of emotion, and they cut deeper than I expect. The way he sounds, it's almost like I’m some piece of ware he’s done with. Slowly, I feel a weight start to form in my chest.

“But why?” My voice cracks and a single tear rolls down my cheek.

“Did I do something wrong?” I ask, louder now. A few heads turn toward our booth, idle ears catching the shift in my tone.

“Look, Hayley, I know—”

“I’m sorry,” I plead as more tears start to fall. “I’m sorry for whatever I did. Just—”

“Stop,” Theo snaps, glancing around, visibly embarrassed with the scene I'm making.

He runs a hand through his thick ginger hair and exhales. “Look,” he begins, “I know this is hard for you. Trust me, it’s not easy for me either.”

But as I watch him, nothing about his expression says this is hard. If anything, he looks almost… relieved. Like I’ve been a weight he’s finally allowed himself to put down.

“I’ve got a lot on my plate right now, Hayley. From school, to being captain of the team, and…” His voice fades, like he’s about to say more but holds it back.

I lean forward on the table, my intuition picking up on what he isn’t saying. “Is it your dad again? Is that what this is?” I sniff.

Theo's expression darkens. “No. It’s not about him.”

When he avoids my eyes, I know it—deep down—that I might be right.

Ever since he lost his mom to cancer a year ago, things changed drastically for Theo. While he managed to cope with her demise, his father crumbled, drowning his grief in alcohol. It didn’t take long for Mr Thompson to turn into a full-blown alcoholic—a fact that’s always driven Theo up the wall, leading to altercations and arguments between them every now and again.

Yet even with all of that, he'd always find his way to me. I was his safe space and we talked about everything; from his absent father, to my always-traveling one. That shared loneliness had bound us tighter than anything else.

And now, he’s sitting here, just throwing it all away? Like none of it mattered?

The longer I sit across from him, the deeper the hurt burrows. But worse than the words he utters, is the cold, detached look on his face. It's almost like he's never felt any trace of emotion for me.

Just then he stands from the booth and I scramble up after him, grabbing his wrist in a desperate attempt to cling to our relationship.

“Theo, please. We can't just end like this…” My voice trembles as I search his eyes for something—anything at all. A hint of doubt, or even a trace of regret. But I come up empty.

“We made plans,” I whisper almost breathlessly. “College together, building a life... we—”

But Theo cuts me off with a look I’ve never seen from him before—disbelief.

“Hayley, I’ll probably get into college on a soccer scholarship. And once I’m there, I’ll be popular.” His voice drops a notch lower and he lifts an eyebrow. “You didn’t actually think we’d still be together then, did you?”

Instantly, my heart sinks.

Quietly, he leans in to whisper in my ears. “I'm sorry Hayley, but this was always going to happen.”

With that, he slips free from my grip and walks out, leaving me there, shattered.

I can't hold it back anymore. Hot streaks of tears run down my face, like a dam has just burst open inside me, and I bury my face in my palms as my body trembles with each sob. A few people glance over with quiet sympathy, but I can’t bring myself to care as wave upon wave of despair wash over me.

When I finally lift my face, I head for the exit and make the slow walk home. Wrapping my arms tightly around my body, I try to stay warm as a sharp gust of wind slices through the air. I glance upward through swollen eyes I notice the skies have turned gray, the clouds ominously dark and heavy now.

A storm is coming.

By the time I reach home and climb the stairs to my room, silently avoiding my mom’s curious glances, the rain begins to fall. First in a soft drizzle, and then in heavy sheets, pounding against the roof.

It’s the first rainstorm in months, and as I sit by my window watching streaks of raindrops slide down the glass, I let the cold seep into my bones. It feels fitting as I try to pull my thoughts away from the ache inside me.

Minutes later, I curl up in bed, clutching the blankets firmly over my body as I try to sleep. Just then, a memory drifts into my mind, an old saying here in our small town: “When the skies open in Greystone and the rain pours, it brings something new home.”

I’ve never been one for folklore, but something about those words resonate with me tonight. Maybe, just maybe, they’re true. Because for the first time in a long time, I need something new—new hopes, new plans for the future.

Maybe even a new chance at love.

But the thought doesn’t stay for long and I'm lulled to sleep by the soft patter of rain on the rooftops above me.

*******

Deep into the night, a thunderclap jolts me awake. My entire body is shaking terribly as I sit up on the bed, and it's not because of the cold.

It’s fear. Raw, intense fear.

For the first time in a long while, I’ve just had a nightmare.

Staring out into the darkness beyond my window, one image burns in my mind from my dream: a creature, crouched in the shadows with its eyes glowing a deep, unnatural gold.

I rub my temples slowly and tell myself it was just a dream. Just my mind dredging up scary thoughts in the wake of the breakup.

But even as I try to fall back asleep, I can’t shake the feeling of how vivid it was. How real it felt.

A soft breeze slips through the room, and for a fleeting moment, something deep inside me whispers that the dream might’ve been more than just that—even if I don’t understand it yet.