Eight

The dream began the way most impossible things do — softly.

Seren walked through a field of light.

It wasn’t grass beneath her feet but liquid silver, rippling with every step, reflecting a sky made entirely of stars. The air shimmered as though reality itself were holding its breath. She couldn’t tell if she was walking or floating, only that everything around her hummed with quiet reverence.

Then she saw her.

A woman stood at the heart of the field, clothed in the glow of the moon itself. Her hair was spun silver that flowed like water, and upon her brow rested a delicate crown shaped like a crescent. Her eyes—ancient and kind and vast—seemed to hold galaxies within them.

Seren froze. Her instincts screamed to kneel, to lower her gaze, but curiosity held her still.

The woman smiled. “You don’t have to bow, child. You already bear enough weight upon your shoulders.”

Her voice was soft and melodic, yet each word reverberated through the air like a song that had existed long before language.

“Who are you?” Seren asked, her voice trembling despite herself. “Where am I?”

“You walk between dreams and the divine,” the woman replied, stepping closer. “And I am called Selune.”

The name hit Seren like a bolt. The air itself seemed to sigh, the silver field rippling outward in response.

“The Moon Goddess,” Seren whispered.

Selune inclined her head slightly. “Names are merely the mortal echo of truth. But yes, that is one I’ve answered to.”

She reached out, brushing a strand of hair from Seren’s face. The touch was cool and gentle, yet it thrummed with unbearable energy.

“You carry both worlds within you, little one,” Selune said. “You walk where light meets shadow. Do you know what that means?”

Seren shook her head. “I barely know how to walk without tripping over my own messes.”

That earned her a small, amused smile. “Then perhaps it’s time you learned what runs through your blood.”

Selune gestured, and the world shifted. The silver field transformed into two vast currents of energy flowing beside them—one golden and fluid like sunlight captured in water, the other wild and dark, pulsing like living flame.

“Magic,” Selune said. “All power in Lunaris flows from these two sources.”

She lifted her hand, and the golden current surged upward. “Divine Magic—my blessing. It is the essence of order, of will refined through faith. It listens to invocation, responds to symbols, to vows, to purity of intent. It heals, protects, creates.”

Her hand lowered, and she touched the darker current. It roared, sending sparks flying. “And this—Instinct Magic—is born of bloodlines. It does not obey. It feels. It answers the call of the soul rather than words. It fuels claws and fangs, shields the heart from fear, bends nature to survival. It is ancient and raw.”

Seren watched, transfixed. “So… divine magic is like prayer, and instinct magic is… instinct?”

“Precisely.” Selune’s eyes gleamed. “Neither is greater, though mortals have long forgotten that. The priestesses call divine power sacred, while the packs call instinct power wild. But both were born of the same moonlight—my breath, my children.”

Seren tilted her head. “And which am I?”

Selune smiled faintly. “That is why I’ve come.”

The field dimmed slightly. The streams of magic curved together, twining until they met in a radiant burst of light. Seren felt it pulse through her chest, warm and aching, like something long dormant had stirred awake inside her.

“I need your help, Seren Nightwind.”

The Goddess’s voice broke softly, and for the first time, she looked—fragile. A being of eternity, trembling like a mortal.

“What could I possibly do for a Goddess?” Seren asked quietly.

Selune’s gaze drifted upward to the stars. “There is rot within my lands. A corruption festers where once there was grace. The Burndels—their deceit has anchored it. The Crescent Park, sacred to my name, bleeds. Its light fades.”

Seren frowned. “You mean Nova’s family?”

The Goddess nodded. “Their presence feeds on what was once consecrated. They twist my power for their gain. And I cannot interfere directly; I am bound by the covenants of the first dawn. But you… you are not.”

Seren hesitated. “You want me to… expel them?”

Selune stepped closer. Her eyes glistened—not with divine authority, but with tears. “Please. Restore what they have defiled. I will not ask you to destroy them, only to sever their claim to my sacred land. Do this, and I will gift you the strength you will need for the storms ahead.”

It was surreal, watching a Goddess plead.

Seren laughed softly, half in disbelief. “This is… insane. I’m dreaming, aren’t I?”

Selune smiled through her tears. “Of course you are. And yet, every dream leaves a mark.”

Her hand touched Seren’s heart, and the world exploded in light.

Seren woke with a gasp.

For a moment, she thought she’d been struck by lightning. Her entire body burned—not painfully, but intensely alive. Every sound in the manor was sharper, every scent clearer, every heartbeat distinct.

Then she caught her reflection in the mirror.

Her hair—once dark chestnut—now shimmered pure silver under the morning light.

She clamped both hands over her mouth, suppressing the scream that clawed its way up her throat.

The System chose that exact moment to chime.

[System Update Complete.]

[New Attributes Unlocked: Dual Core—Divine and Instinct Synergy Detected.]

[Status: Hybrid Entity.]

[Warning: You are not authorized to exist.]

“Excuse me?!” she hissed under her breath.

[Relax. It’s only a metaphysical technicality.]

[New Passive Skill: Moonblood Resonance—enhances magic regeneration, boosts strength, speed, and resistance to spells.]

[Secondary Core Stabilizing… Please refrain from dying.]

“Refrain from dying?!”

Her outburst nearly escaped as a shout, and she slapped a hand over her mouth again.

Breathing hard, she stared at herself. The silver hair wasn’t an illusion—it shimmered even when she turned away. Her eyes, too, seemed lighter, the faintest glimmer of blue-white flickering like frost.

“Oh gods,” she muttered. “Oh Selune.”

[You seem surprised.]

“You think? I look like the Moon’s favorite chandelier!”

[Aesthetic upgrade successful.]

“Shut up.”

She flopped back onto her bed, groaning. Her mind replayed every word of the dream—Selune’s voice, her plea, the warmth that had sunk into her chest. It hadn’t just been a vision. Something had changed her.

Divine and Instinct magic—both in her.

That shouldn’t even be possible.

Her thoughts spiraled until a knock jolted her.

“Lady Seren,” came a servant’s voice. “The Lord requests your presence for brunch.”

“Right,” Seren muttered, raking her fingers through her new hair. “Just another normal day—no divine transformations, no celestial blessings. Totally fine.”

The dining hall gleamed with the soft morning light. The aroma of roasted quail and spiced tea filled the air, and Lord Nightwind sat at the head of the table, every inch the regal patriarch he fancied himself to be.

His gaze lifted—and froze.

“What in the Goddess’s name—”

Seren smiled sweetly as she took her seat. “Good morning, Father.”

“Your hair.”

“Oh, that?” She picked up her fork. “You know how stressful ceremonies are. Must’ve gone silver overnight. Happens all the time.”

His jaw clenched. “Do not mock me, girl.”

“I’m not! Maybe I’m just blessed. You should be proud.”

He stared a long moment before snorting softly and taking a sip of his wine. “Blessed or cursed, it will draw attention. You will wear a veil when we attend council.”

“Yes, Father,” she said, hiding a smirk.

The System flickered lazily in her mind.

[Veil Suggestion: Acceptable disguise until your mana stabilizes. Also fashionable.]

You’re enjoying this too much.

[Monitoring chaos is my primary entertainment protocol.]

Before she could retort, a servant entered carrying a sealed letter.

“An urgent delivery for Lady Seren Nightwind,” the butler announced.

Seren blinked. “For me?”

Lord Nightwind gestured impatiently. The butler handed her the envelope—heavy parchment, embossed with a golden crescent sigil.

The wax seal bore the mark of Lunaris Academy, the most prestigious magical institution in the realm.

She tore it open, her hands shaking slightly.

“Dear Miss Seren Nightwind,

It is with great honor that we confirm your acceptance into the Academy of Lunaris for the upcoming term. Your aptitude has been recognized as extraordinary. We eagerly await your arrival.”

Seren gawked. “I—what?”

Her father took the letter, scanning it with disbelief. “This… must be a mistake.”

She laughed nervously. “I didn’t even apply!”

“Apparently, someone did,” Lord Nightwind murmured, his eyes narrowing in thought. “The seal is authentic. And the Academy does not make clerical errors.”

[Gift Claimed: Divine Favor—Educational Placement.]

Seren froze. Selune.

The butler cleared his throat. “My Lord, it seems Lady Nightwind had made arrangements before her passing. The Academy received her sponsorship years ago.”

Seren turned sharply. “My… mother?”

“Yes, milady. She requested that should you ever display potential, they would honor her legacy.”

Her father went very still. For the first time, his arrogance faltered. His voice softened, almost fragile. “Your mother always believed you’d do something remarkable.”

Seren studied him—her cold, calculating father—and saw something she’d never seen before: sorrow.

“What was she like?” Seren asked quietly.

He set the letter down and leaned back, eyes distant. “She was light itself. Stubborn, brilliant, infuriatingly kind. When she smiled, even the wolves howled softer. We met at the Temple of the Crescent. I was still a soldier then.”

His voice cracked, barely perceptible. “She fell ill after your fifth winter. No healer could touch her sickness. She—”

He stopped. Swallowed hard. Then, with deliberate care, he reached beneath his collar and drew out a locket.

“She wanted you to have this one day.”

He opened it, and the world seemed to still.

Inside, beneath a pane of crystal, was a miniature portrait.

Silver hair. Crescent crown. Eyes that held the light of eternity.

Seren’s breath hitched.

It was her.

The woman from her dream.

Selune.

The fork slipped from Seren’s hand, clattering against her plate. Her father didn’t notice—he was lost in memory.

But the System did.

[Analysis Complete.]

[Genetic Match Detected: 72% correlation with Divine Lineage.]

[Congratulations, Seren Nightwind—You are Moonblooded.]

Seren’s pulse thundered in her ears.

Moonblooded.

Daughter of the Moon.

Her gaze drifted to the window, where sunlight danced weakly against the fading moon. Somewhere, far above, Selune’s voice seemed to echo softly—half lullaby, half warning.

“Restore what was lost, child. The balance depends on it.”

Seren pressed a trembling hand to her chest.

For once, the System stayed silent.

The world she’d thought she understood had just shifted again—its teeth gleaming under divine light.

And she wasn’t sure if she’d just inherited a blessing… or a curse.