Morning in the Moonforest never truly felt like day.The mist never lifted, only softened — turning the sunlight into pale ribbons that weaved through branches like liquid silver. Dew clung to every blade of grass, and the scent of moss, spirit sap, and old magic hung thick in the air.
Lian stirred awake by the faint crackle of firewood. His hand brushed the mossy earth beside him, cool and damp. The memory of last night lingered like smoke — talk of other realms, lost relics, and his cursed golden veins.
He sat up slowly, blinking at the faint light seeping through the canopy. The others were already awake.
Lyra knelt by the stream, washing her hands in silence. Her movements were graceful, precise — every ripple of water obeyed her as if it feared to disturb her calm. Nisha crouched near the fire, poking the embers with a stick and humming off-key.
And then there was Lira — the darker twin — leaning lazily against a tree, her eyes half-lidded but watchful.
Lian glanced down at his arm. The thin cut he'd gotten last night while gathering firewood had already sealed shut, leaving behind smooth, unbroken skin. He frowned. "That's… fast," he murmured, flexing his hand.
Nisha noticed first. "Whoa! Didn't you slice your arm open like ten minutes ago?"
Lian pulled his sleeve down quickly, but it was too late. The twins' heads turned.
Lyra rose slowly, her eyes fixed on him. "Show me."
He hesitated. "It's nothing—"
"Show me," she said again, voice firmer this time — not harsh, but edged with authority that carried something ancient.
Reluctantly, he extended his arm. The cut had vanished completely, leaving only the faintest shimmer beneath his skin — golden, alive.
The air changed.
Even the forest seemed to still, the usual hum of distant spirits silenced as though they, too, were watching.
Lyra's expression hardened, the calm of her royal bearing slipping for the first time. She stepped closer, eyes tracing the faint pulse of light beneath his veins. "This healing… it's not spirit regeneration. It's beyond that."
Lira's gaze flicked up, her tone a low whisper. "Immortality."
Nisha's eyes widened. "Wait—immortality? Like, forever forever?"
"Not forever," Lira said softly. "But close enough to terrify the gods."
Lian pulled back his hand, discomfort flickering across his face. "I don't understand. I shouldn't even have this."
Lyra didn't respond immediately. Her fingers brushed the air near his arm, not quite touching, but close enough that he felt her energy ripple against his skin. A pale silver aura, cool and heavy, mingled with the faint gold beneath his.
And for an instant — something stirred.
Her wolf spirit — the ancient beast bound to her bloodline — rose from deep within. Its presence pressed against her thoughts, whispering in hunger and reverence both.
That blood… it growled within her mind. It sings like the First Flame. It could make us whole again.
Lyra stiffened. The heat of that inner voice clawed through her control, sending a shiver down her spine. She drew back quickly, masking her reaction with a calm smile.
"Remarkable," she said, her tone perfectly measured. "Even the Spirit Kings of our realm couldn't mend flesh like that."
Lian looked uneasy. "You're saying I can't be human?"
"No," Lyra replied softly. "You're saying it. I'm only confirming what the forest already knows."
Nisha frowned, sensing the tension. "Okay, let's dial it back. Maybe he's just… blessed or something. You know, like a walking miracle."
Lira chuckled darkly. "Miracles always come with a price, little one."
She circled behind Lian, her gaze never leaving the faint gold that pulsed beneath his skin. "Tell me, boy," she murmured, "does it hurt when you bleed?"
Lian turned sharply toward her. "What kind of question is that?"
"The kind only someone like me would ask." Her smile didn't reach her eyes. "I can smell your power. It's pure… intoxicating. The wolf in me wants to taste it."
"Lira." Lyra's tone was sharp now, commanding.
Her twin glanced at her, then laughed lightly. "Relax, sister. I was joking."
But Lyra knew that look. She had seen it before — in times of battle, when the ancient hunger of their bloodline surfaced. The wolf spirit that slept within each princess could be gentle… or monstrous.
Lyra turned away to hide her unease, but her fingers trembled slightly. The scent of Lian's blood lingered faintly in the air — not metallic, but sweet, luminous, wrong. Her wolf stirred again, pressing against her restraint.
One drop, it whispered. Just one, and we would ascend beyond the moon's chains.
She shut her eyes briefly, steadying her breath. "We should move soon," she said. "The forest grows restless."
Lira smiled faintly, watching her sister struggle. "Yes. Restless."
As they prepared to leave, Nisha approached Lian, whispering under her breath. "Don't mind them. They're… complicated."
He managed a small smile. "So I've noticed."
The group began their trek deeper into the forest. The air thickened with spirit energy, and faint lights danced between the trees — will-o'-wisps watching, waiting.
Behind them, Lyra's eyes flickered gold for a fraction of a second before she forced them back to normal.
Inside her, the wolf still whispered.He carries eternity. And eternity was meant to be consumed.
She clenched her jaw and walked faster, staying ahead of the others.
For now, she would mask her hunger behind calm words and steady eyes. But deep within, she knew the truth: her spirit had tasted his power — and it would not forget it.
Cliffhanger:As night fell again, a faint scratch appeared on Lian's wrist — where Lyra's fingers had brushed him earlier.When he wiped it, he found not blood, but silver dust glittering on his skin.And from the shadows behind them, a voice purred through the trees —"The blood that binds will soon demand its price."