Chapter 13:
The guild's training courtyard was eerily quiet that morning. Mist clung to the cracked marble tiles, soft and silver under the dim light of dawn. Kaelen stood at the center, sweat dripping down his temple, breath shallow and uneven. The sigil beneath his feet pulsed faintly—its lines drawn with silver dust, each stroke glowing with lunar energy.
"Again," Ardyn commanded, his voice echoing across the empty space.
Kaelen hesitated, his fingers trembling as energy gathered around his palms. It flickered, uncertain—like lightning trapped in glass. He focused, channeling mana through his veins until sparks burst from his fingertips.
Elira stood at the edge of the circle, wings folded close, eyes full of worry. "He's done enough for today," she said sharply. "You're pushing him too far."
Ardyn didn't even glance at her. "The Moonlight Pact is volatile. If he can't control it, it'll consume him. He must learn to master it—or die trying."
Kaelen's heart pounded. Master it… or die. That was always Ardyn's way. He gritted his teeth and pushed harder, his silver aura flaring. The air grew heavy, shimmering with heat and magic. Runes etched into the stone floor began to hum in response.
But then something went wrong.
The energy twisted—wild, untamed. Kaelen felt it turn against him like a beast breaking its leash. His eyes widened as tendrils of silvery flame erupted from his hands, spiraling upward like a storm. The runes on the ground cracked, releasing shockwaves that shattered nearby pillars.
"Kaelen!" Elira's voice rang out as she rushed forward.
But he couldn't hear her. In that moment, his vision blurred—replaced by something vast and terrible.
He saw two moons hanging above a burning sky. One silver, the other crimson, circling each other like predators. Every time they drew near, the earth below screamed—oceans boiling, mountains collapsing. He could feel the heat, the despair, the weight of something ancient waking within his soul.
"When the twin lights align, the world shall bleed anew…"
The voice echoed in his mind—a woman's voice, soft yet filled with sorrow.
Kaelen gasped and fell to his knees, clutching his chest. "No… not again!"
The blast of energy exploded outward, sending Elira flying backward. Her wings snapped open just in time to shield her from the flames. The ground split apart, the sigils disintegrating under the sheer pressure of Kaelen's uncontrolled magic.
Then—silence.
Everything went still, as if the world itself held its breath.
When the light faded, the training field was a ruin. Scorched stone, smoking air, and at the center of it all—Kaelen, kneeling amidst a circle of floating shards that glowed faintly with moonlight. His breathing was shallow, eyes half-lidded. One eye glowed silver. The other burned crimson.
Elira crawled toward him, her heart hammering. "Kaelen… your eyes…"
He looked up at her, his voice distant, hollow. "I saw them, Elira. The moons. They're calling to me. They… they want me to choose."
"Choose what?"
"I don't know," he whispered. "But every time I try to control it, I feel someone else inside me… something ancient."
From the shadows beyond the courtyard, Ardyn watched silently. His lips curved into a faint, knowing smile.
So the prophecy wasn't a myth after all.
That night, the guild felt uneasy. The walls hummed faintly with residual energy, and whispers spread among the apprentices. They'd seen the explosion, the strange light, the red flash across the moons.
In the grand hall, Kaelen sat alone beside a flickering lantern. His hands were bandaged; the skin beneath still burned faintly. He kept his head down, afraid of what he might see reflected in the glass. The crimson glow in his eye hadn't faded.
Footsteps echoed behind him. "Can't sleep?" Elira's voice was soft, carrying a tired smile. She placed a mug of warm herb tea beside him and sat down.
He chuckled weakly. "How could I? I keep seeing that vision—the world ending, the moons colliding."
She looked up at the window where the twin moons hung heavy in the sky. "Maybe it wasn't the end," she said. "Maybe it was a warning."
Kaelen frowned. "A warning about what?"
"About us," she said after a pause. "You and I… we're bound by the Moonlight Pact. If one loses control, the other might too. The prophecy said the bond would either save the world… or destroy it."
He turned toward her, eyes wide. "You knew?"
"I only knew pieces," she admitted. "The pact was ancient—something sealed away centuries ago. My clan guarded part of the legend, but even they didn't understand it. Until now."
Kaelen's hands tightened around the cup. "Then what am I, Elira? A vessel? A weapon?"
Her expression softened. "You're Kaelen. The boy who saved me in the ruins. The one who never gave up, even when the world turned its back on him."
For a long moment, neither spoke. The only sound was the faint hum of moonlight filtering through the window.
Then the door creaked open.
Ardyn entered quietly, his cloak trailing like a shadow. "Touching. Truly."
Elira stood quickly. "What do you want?"
"To remind you both that sentimentality won't save you," Ardyn said. "The Order knows. They've felt the disturbance."
Kaelen froze. "The Obsidian Order?"
Ardyn nodded. "A messenger has already been sent to investigate. If they discover what happened tonight, the guild will be branded as heretics."
Elira's wings twitched nervously. "Then what do we do?"
Ardyn's eyes glinted in the moonlight. "You do nothing. I'll handle it. But make no mistake—if either of you lose control again, there won't be a guild left to protect."
He turned and left, his footsteps fading into silence. The door closed behind him with a whisper.
Outside, beyond the guild walls, the night air shimmered faintly as a cloaked figure moved among the trees—the Obsidian messenger. His eyes gleamed from beneath his hood, reflecting the faint crimson hue of the larger moon.
He paused before the ruined courtyard, crouching to trace a finger over the fractured sigils. The energy pulsed faintly, whispering in ancient tongues.
"The vessel has awakened," he murmured. "The seal weakens."
A faint symbol glowed beneath his hand—two crescents intertwined, bleeding light.
"Soon," he whispered, "the world will bow once more to the moon's true power."
Back inside, Kaelen woke suddenly, his body drenched in sweat. He'd fallen asleep without realizing it, his head resting on the table. The lantern had gone out, leaving only pale moonlight filtering through the window.
He could hear whispers again—soft, melodic, echoing in his skull.
"When light and shadow entwine, fate shall unravel. The pact is not a gift, Kaelen… it is a sentence."
He looked down at his hands. The bandages glowed faintly. The energy inside him felt alive, breathing, waiting.
"Elira…" he whispered, standing abruptly.
He found her outside on the balcony, staring up at the twin moons. The air shimmered faintly around her wings. When she turned, her eyes glowed faintly silver too.
"You feel it, don't you?" Kaelen asked quietly.
She nodded. "They're getting closer. The moons shouldn't align for another century, but now… it's happening faster."
Kaelen joined her at the railing, staring at the heavens. "The prophecy… it's not waiting anymore."
Elira reached out, placing her hand over his. "Then we'll face it together."
He turned to her, the crimson and silver in his eyes reflecting the light of both moons. For a brief moment, the tension eased. The world felt silent—balanced between fate and choice.
But far below, unseen, a dark sigil burned into the ground where Kaelen ,had stood earlier that day. The same interlocked crescents.
Ardyn stood beside it, his cloak rippling in the wind, whispering words only the night could hear. "Awaken, old one. The vessel is ready."
As the words left his lips, the red moon pulsed—faintly but unmistakably—and every creature sensitive to magic felt a tremor in their soul.
The prophecy was no longer just a story. It had begun to stir....