Chapter Two

MAYA.

When I woke up later today, the sun had already sunk behind the houses across the street, a clear sign that evening had arrived.

The sound of the front door creaking open snapped me out of my thoughts. Aunt Emilia’s familiar footsteps echoed through the hallway, and not long after, I heard the heavier tread of Uncle Eric behind her. I glanced at the clock. 7:42 PM. She must’ve left work earlier than expected.

I quickly minimized the webpage about Moonridge Academy on my laptop and swung my legs off the bed. My heart had been racing ever since I clicked “submit.” I’d rehearsed this conversation at least a dozen times in my head, but now that the moment was here, all the words seemed to scatter like leaves in the wind.

Dinner was simple—spaghetti and meatballs. We gathered at the dining table, the TV playing softly in the background while we silently dug into our food. The air felt unusually thick, or maybe it was just the weight of what I was about to say.

 I cleared my throat. “So…, there’s something I need to talk to you both about.”

Uncle Eric looked up first, setting his fork down. His expression was unreadable, as usual. He was a quiet man, reserved and calm, but when he did speak, it was with intention. Aunt Emilia, on the other hand, instantly tensed. She glanced at me with concern knitted into her brow.

“What is it, sweetheart?” she asked.

I took a deep breath “I came across this school today… It’s called Moonridge Academy. It’s different, I found it really cool and they only accept one human every year so I decided to apply because…” before I could finish “You what?” Aunt Emilia said, nearly choking on her sip of water. “You applied? Without talking to us?”

Uncle James leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. “What kind of school only takes one human? That sounds more like a cult than an institution.”

“No, no,” I said quickly, “it’s not like that. It’s hard to explain, but what’s the harm in applying. It’s not like I’ll end up getting picked anyway.

“That’s not the point,” Aunt Emilia said sharply. Her voice was calm, but I could tell she was holding back frustration. “Do you even know what kind of people run this place? You don’t just go running off to some secret academy because of a vague post you saw online.”

I pushed my plate away, my appetite gone. “I’m not running off. I’m just trying to find myself. I feel like I don’t belong here. Not in school, not in this town either. This might be a chance to actually understand who I am, why I feel so… different”

My Aunt’s expression softened for a moment, but her voice remained firm. “Maya…” she paused for a moment, “I thought we’ve talked about this, you’re not different. You’re just going through a phase and in a matter of time you’ll be ok.”

As she spoke I began shaking my head in disagreement, “No, we haven’t. You’ve always avoided it. Anytime I tried to talk to you about how I felt or even asked about my parents. You’ve always shut me out.”

Uncle Eric finally spoke. “And you think this school will give you those answers?”

“I don’t know” I admitted. “But it’s the first thing that feels… honest.” I said as I let out a heavy sigh.

Aunt Emilia stood up and started clearing the table, her movements sharp. “I can’t let you go to some hidden school surrounded by mystery and myths. You’re still a child—”

“I’m seventeen!” I interrupted. “And I can make decisions for myself.”

“As long as you live under our roof,” Uncle Eric said quietly, “you live by our rules.”

I stood as well, my chair scraping the floor. “I respect that. But I also have to live with myself, and besides I just did it out of curiosity, it’s not like I’ll be the lucky human to get picked anyway.” Without waiting for a response, I turned and walked out of the kitchen, my heart pounding like a drum in my chest. Upstairs, I closed my bedroom door and leaned against it, breathing heavily, my eyes teary.

I didn’t know what would come next. But for the first time in years, I felt like I was in control of my own life. And I said to myself, “there was no going back.”

I lay on my bed and picked up my sketchpad, letting the pencil move without thought. My hand knew what my mind couldn't put into words. Shapes formed—shadows, faces, maybe even fears. I didn’t know when I dozed off. One moment, my pencil was gliding across the page. The next, everything around me began to dissolve.

Darkness.

Then a sound—low, guttural, like growling. It echoed through the void.

I stood in the middle of a strange forest. Tall trees stretched high into the sky, their branches gnarled like claws. A thick fog clung to the ground, curling around my ankles as if it were alive.

My sketchpad was gone. My hands were empty.

Somewhere behind me, twigs snapped.

I turned.

Nothing.

But I could feel it. Something was watching me. Following me.

I was almost trembling, I started walking—then running. As I ran deeper into the forest it seemed like a journey of no return but I kept running and hearing growls that became louder as I went deeper. Shadows twisted around me, forming faces—angry, hollow-eyed, whispering my name.

“Maya…”

But as I kept going the voice kept coming closer. Soon enough, it was no longer a whisper. It was right next to my ear.

My breath hitched, and the air around me turned ice-cold. I slowly turned my head, trembling in fear.

“Maya,” the voice came again, and this time I could see it.

A figure stood in the trees ahead—tall, thin, draped in tattered robes that moved as if underwater. Its face was obscured by a bone-white mask, smooth and featureless, except for a single, vertical slit where the mouth should be.

My eyes flicked down.

At the figure’s feet lay a stone, half-buried in moss and tangled roots. Resting atop it was a pendant, carved with a silver crescent moon that seemed to pulse softly with an inner light.

I stepped closer, drawn to it like a magnet, and picked it up. The pendant was cold in my hand, heavier than it looked, its crescent shimmering faintly as if alive.

I looked back up at the figure.

Slowly, it raised a thin, gloved hand—and from beneath its robes, it pulled out an identical pendant, hanging from a chain that glinted even in the dim forest light.

The two pendants seemed to resonate with each other, their crescents glowing brighter, casting a silvery glow that flickered across the figure’s mask, highlighting its hollow emptiness.

A chill ran down my spine.

The figure tilted its head, as if acknowledging something unspoken.

The pendant on the stone and the one worn by the figure—they were linked.

I felt it inside me—a tether, a bond I couldn’t explain. Suddenly, the forest dissolved like smoke in the wind. The cold grip of the pendant loosened, and the eerie glow faded into darkness.

I gasped, my chest rising and falling erratically.

Light flooded my vision.

I was back in my bedroom. The pendant was gone from my hand.

But the weight of the dream—the figure, the stone, the glowing crescent—lingered like a shadow in my mind.

I sat up straight, heart pounding so loudly I was sure my Aunt and Uncle could hear it from downstairs.

Cold sweat slicked my skin, my hands shook uncontrollably.

Was it real? Or just a nightmare?

I pressed my palm against my chest, feeling for the pendant that wasn’t there.

Then my eyes caught something on my nightstand—a faint glimmer.

I reached out slowly.

There, resting quietly, was the pendant.

The same dark stone with the silver crescent.

I blinked, my mind spinning.

Had it been more than a dream?

I swallowed hard and whispered, “No… this can’t be real.”

But deep down, I knew it was, because now, there was no denying.

Whatever this was—it had found me.