Echoes of the past

The night air cuts colder than steel. My fingers still clutch the pouch, the leather warm from my own grip, yet it feels like a shard of ice against my skin. My sister’s scent lingers on it—faint but undeniable. Blood of my blood.

The pack hovers around me, restless, their breaths rising like mist. Lucan’s eyes search mine, waiting for command, but my voice is trapped somewhere between grief and rage.

I want to scream. I want to tear through the woods and drag her ghost back into the open. But the body is gone. And with it, the chance to ask why.

Rauth’s hand presses steady on my shoulder. Strong, grounding, but trembling beneath the surface. His kiss earlier still burns on my forehead, not as comfort, but as warning. Even he doesn’t know if we are ready for what comes next.

“She was no ordinary enemy,” he says, low enough for me alone. “The way she fought, the way she died—it was deliberate. This was no accident. They wanted us to know.”

Wanted me to know.

His voice resonates deeper than his intent, as though carrying the message meant to break me: they wanted to sever ties.

My chest clenches, a pain too familiar, yet always fresh—like claws reopening an old wound I had buried under years of silence.

The good memories I once kept locked away amidst the silence rivalry amongst us now claw free—my sisters laughing in the river’s glow, their eyes gleaming with secrets, their promises whispered under moonlight. Promises during our childhood that now curdle into lies.

The pack murmurs behind us, questions stirring, but I cannot answer them. Not yet.

Lucan steps forward, fists clenched. “My lady, give the word. We will hunt them down, one by one.” His voice carries, and the pack growls their agreement, a tide of loyalty that shakes the ground beneath my feet.

But my heart is torn. To name my sisters an enemy is to carve out a piece of myself. And yet, to deny it is to leave Elarion—and the entire pack—vulnerable.

Rauth’s gaze finds mine, sharp and unyielding. “We stand at war’s edge, Luna. You must choose: do we fight them as family… or as foes?”

The pouch trembles in my hand. The past echoes louder than the present. Betrayal doesn’t wound once—it festers, repeating, until it becomes your fate.

I lift my head, voice shaking but clear. “If my sisters has chosen to stand against us… then she has chosen her death.”

The words taste like ash on my tongue, but the pack roars in unity. “To fight is to live!”

And yet, inside me, a hollow ache grows. For every battle won, another bond shatters. And in those echoes of the past, I wonder if I am becoming the very curse I once fled.

As the war cries settle, silence creeps in—heavy, suffocating. Not peace. Fear.

I lift my gaze to the faces around me—the beautiful souls who accepted me, who gave me a place in their hard-won peace. And now, by blood and betrayal, I am the curse threatening to tear them apart again. This is not how I ever wished to repay them.

My eyes fall on the children running wild in the torchlight, their laughter echoing where Elarion once played. What good is revenge, if it steals the lives of innocents? War promises no victory without loss. And I—Luna, mother, cursed daughter—am torn between fulfilling their cry for vengeance and shielding them from its cost.

Above all, I must protect my son.

I remind myself: I am Luna—the one who gave birth to light while darkness spread across the earth. I cannot allow my people to die because of the shadow tied to my bloodline.

The weight of it makes me stumble out of my thoughts. The crowd waits, eyes fixed, but I rise to my feet.

Rauth’s voice finds me. “My love, you have somewhere to be?”

“No, King,” I answer softly. “I need to return to Elarion’s side. Mia must be weary.”

He nods in silent understanding.

⸻

When I step into Elarion’s tent, Mia is there, her hands wrapped around his small palm.

“Can’t you sleep beside him?” I ask gently.

She chuckles, but the sound breaks. “I can… b-but…”

I cradle her head with my hand. “But what, Mia?”

Her smile trembles as tears spill down her cheeks. “You know how scattered we both sleep. Seeing him still—so still—it frightens me.”

Her fear mirrors my own.

I move to Elarion’s side, brushing a hand over his hair. “Light, can you hear Mummy? You must wake, so Mia can rest. Okay?”

For a moment, nothing. My ears ache for the sound of his little voice, but silence mocks me.

I rise to leave—

And then, faint but clear: “Yes, Mummy.”

Mia gasps, rushing to him as his eyes flutter open.

“I’m sorry, Mia,” Elarion whispers.

She hovers over him, shaking her head, tears spilling freely. “No, Asheriel…”

But his next words cut us both open, flooding us with sorrow and joy all at once. “Are you smiling?”

Mia chuckles through her tears. “Yes. Because you are my warrior of smiles.”

My heart cannot bear it. I let the last of my tears fall outside, claiming to give them their moment.

⸻

I find my feet carrying me toward the shaman’s tent, though I cannot say why. Perhaps I seek consolation. Perhaps I only need someone to tell me the universe has not forsaken me.

The shrine greets me with shadows and flickering light, but at my arrival, her eyes brighten, her posture lifting.

“Greetings, my lady,” she says, voice soft but steady.

A heartbeat of silence passes before I answer, “You always try to make light of every darkness.”

“The Moon Goddess urges us to be hopeful,” she replies. “Hence her consistent light, even in the darkest dawn.”

I lower my head. “I am lost—between love and hate. I cannot tell which is greater… or which is winning.”

The shaman rises, turning her back to me as though to listen for the goddess. Her voice deepens.

“If we speak the same truth, then only time can answer. Yet what hearts fail to see is this—what time are we in?”

She faces the shadows. “The light came after the darkness… but is this still the darkness, or is this the light? In all things…”

Her voice crescendos, echoing against the walls of the shrine.

“Time! Time!”