The Miracle Luna
I rose slowly from the chair behind my desk, camera forgotten in my hand, the rogue’s eerie half-smile still frozen on the screen.
“You’re sure?” I asked, my voice low, and rough with tension.
Aurora nodded once. “Not just sure. I’ve confirmed it. I had to dig into ancient spellbooks, the forbidden tomes that haven’t seen light since before even your grandfather ruled. But it all lines up.”
She crossed the room, pulling a folded parchment from inside her jacket. Old. Yellowed with age. The writing on it wasn’t even in English—it was some forgotten, curving script that shimmered faintly when the candlelight hit it.