Elyra had always believed the moon was unbreakable.
No matter how hard the storms hit the kingdom of Astreleon, no matter how loudly the mountains roared or how viciously the dark creatures clawed at the protective barrier—
the moon always shone.
It was the kingdom's oldest promise.
Its first shield.
Its eternal guardian.
So when the glow faded on the night of her nineteenth birthday—
not dimmed gently, but flickered like a dying lantern—
everyone in the Scarlet Tower felt it.
The stone walls vibrated. The silver runes etched into the floor lost their shimmer. The air grew thin, sharp, uneasy. Elyra dropped the stack of scrolls she was carrying as every candle in the hallway went out at once.
A moment later, the screaming began.
Not from people.
But from the sky.
The moon let out a sound like crystal cracking—
a thin, high, sorrowful cry that sliced through the clouds.
Elyra clutched her chest. Her pulse raced. Her breath hitched.
And then—
her wrist began to burn.
It was not a normal burn; it was a living flame beneath her skin, pulsing like a heartbeat that wasn't hers. She stumbled to the nearest window, tearing at her sleeve. Her breath caught.
A mark glowed on her skin.
A perfect crescent moon, silver-white and alive with light.
Her mind emptied.
Her body froze.
Her voice cracked into a whisper.
"No… no… this can't be happening."
Because she knew that mark.
Every child knew it.
Every story warned of it.
Every ancient tale feared it.
The mark of the Moonbound Heir.
A lineage said to have vanished a thousand years ago—
the bloodline tied to the moon's magic itself.
"Elyra!"
A sharp voice snapped her out of her haze. Tower Mistress Helienne stormed into the corridor, her red robes swirling, her face pale in a way Elyra had never seen.
"What is happening—" Helienne began, then froze when her eyes fell on Elyra's wrist.
Her expression shattered.
"No," she breathed. "No… impossible." She stepped back as if Elyra were holding a blade to her throat. "The Moon Line died out. You should not exist."
Elyra pulled her arm to her chest. "I don't— I didn't ask for—"
"Silence!" Helienne hissed. "Do you feel the moon failing? Do you feel the shield weakening? The kingdom is in danger—because of you."
"That's not fair—"
"Fair?" Helienne laughed coldly. "Nothing about fate is fair, child. Guards!"
Heavy boots thundered up the stairs. Silver chains clinked.
Chains meant only for containing magic.
Elyra backed away, heart pounding so hard her vision blurred.
"Mistress, wait— I don't know how to control anything! I don't even—"
"Seize her!"
The guards lunged.
And then—
A hand grabbed Elyra from behind.
Not rough.
Not forceful.
But steady.
"Run, Elyra," a familiar voice whispered in her ear. "Run now."
Kai.
Her friend.
Her only friend in the entire tower.
Quiet, sharp-eyed, always watching more than he said. He pushed a slim dagger into her palm. His hand lingered a moment longer, squeezing her fingers.
"You were never meant to be caged," he said softly. "Not anymore."
Then he shoved her toward the window.
Elyra didn't think.
Didn't breathe.
Didn't look back.
She leapt.
And the moonlight—flickering, breaking, fading—caught her.
Just enough to let her fall into the night instead of death.
Just enough to remind her that her life had changed forever.