Luna Luna Forgotten Fantasy Review Novels & Stories

"It's worth a try. Anything to help Iris remember." The pack doctor prepared a concoction, a blend of herbs with purported memory-stirring properties. As I hesitantly took a sip, the room held its breath, waiting for a sign, a spark of recognition. A sudden rush of images flooded my mind—flashes of a moonlit night, the scent of pine in the air, and a feeling of warmth and belonging. It was as if a door had cracked open, allowing a glimpse into a past that had been shrouded in darkness.

“Do you hear me? Be strong, Liora. Never let him see you break.” Her words cut deep, because they were true. I wanted to argue, to tell her my heart wasn’t built to be a fortress, that I couldn’t bury my feelings when every part of me screamed for him. But another part of me, the part that remembered his cruel smirk, the weight of his hand at my throat, knew she was right. I sniffled and nodded. “I’ll try,” I whispered. Luna’s expression softened, her gaze heavy with sadness and regret. “Forget what happened last night,” she said firmly. “Forget it, as if it never was. Whatever Draven gave you, it was not love.."

If I could stand here today, strong enough and worthy enough, my life would finally mean something. And yet, the man whose mark I prayed to the moon goddess for, whose bond was the only thing I held on to during the darkness….looked at me like I was nothing but a mistake. A burden. “Did he just reject her?” The whispers began to come, soft at first. Then louder. Harsher. “She’s not his mate?” “I knew it. She was too cursed to become Luna.” I lifted my chin, forcing myself to meet his eyes, but they were like ice. Empty of wrath, empty of the connection I had spent years dreaming about.

The master suite was vast, a luxury of heavy mahogany, plush furs, and floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the northern valley. It was a space designed for a Luna, a place Evelyn had spent three years knowing she would never see. Now that she was inside, the opulence felt entirely hollow.

"It’s a Graveyard. It’s built from the memories of every woman who was 'Too Much' and didn't survive the rejection. The First Luna archived the ones she could use... but she dumped the 'Glitches' down here" Beside us, Leo was a shadow of himself. The "First Luna" re-installation had left him with hair as white as salt and eyes that flickered between silver and grey like a failing terminal. He held a single, black butterfly in his palm, his runes pulsing a bruised purple.

The gem seemed to pulsate with latent energy, begging to be let out. Luna felt a burst of energy rush through her veins as she held the crystal aloft. She closed her eyes and let the power pass through her, mingling with her magic and memories. Visions flashed before her eyes, shards of her long-buried and suppressed history. Luna's resolve stiffened as the memories returned. She watched the sorrow and suffering wreaked on those she had lost by Morgana and her rogue party. She saw the reality unfiltered by the machinations and lies that had clouded her mind.

“The Balance must break for the Gate to breathe again.” I felt the ground tilt beneath me. “Break the balance…” I whispered. “That’s what they’ve been trying to do.” Tomas frowned. “Who?” “Whoever told Luther about the Gate,” Edward said grimly. “He wasn’t acting alone.” We spent the rest of the morning combing through the journal. Most of it was nonsense — drawings, fragmented prophecies — but one passage made my stomach knot: “The Luna marked by shadow and light will bear the heart of the Moon. When it beats, the Forgotten will rise to claim her.”

They dreamed of things they had never known. They looked to the sky and felt her watching. Lunara smiled. “You see, my child? Creation always dreams back.” The Heart pulsed again, faster now—thrilled, uncertain, proud. > They make songs of their own. They speak to the stars. “Yes,” Lunara said. “They are your voice when you are silent.” --- The Shadow That Desired But not all light rejoiced. Deep within the edges of the newly woven worlds, something else stirred—a fragment of the Forgotten.

Lena whispered, “You did it.” “No,” Aria said. “We did.” --- In the darkness beyond the circle, unseen by any but the wind, a figure watched. Cloaked in black fur, eyes gleaming like pale stars. He turned to the shadows beside him. “They’ve awakened the First Memory,” he said. Another figure emerged—a woman with silver eyes and a necklace of bone. “Then the Forgotten will rise,” she whispered. “And the Moon will weep blood again.” The cloaked man smiled faintly. “Let them think they’ve won.”

“I don’t believe that.” The girl managed a ghost of a smile. “You will.” By dusk, the courtyard was empty. The torches flickered along the walls, their glow licking the collars lined neatly on the table. Luna approached them again, alone this time. She hovered her palm above the metal , and there it was, that same falter. The runes dimmed when heat kissed the air. She exhaled slowly, heart pounding. The discovery was small, fragile , but it was something. Behind her, a voice broke the silence. “Still playing with fire, I see.”