The Moon Temple - Part 2
The descent into the valley felt like walking through dream that remembered us. Every step echoed twice, once in the air and once somewhere deeper, as though the mountain were repeating our passage to whatever waited below. Frost clung to the temple’s columns. The carvings that spiraled up their sides showed wolves half-formed from light, their faces turned toward a crescent carved into the roof. The fracture in the Moon above threw silver shards across the stone, and where they touched the walls, symbols glowed briefly before fading again-heartbeat light. Dominic led the way through the archway. “No scent,” he murmured. “Nothing alive.” Lilly knelt, brushing dust from the floor. Beneath it, a mosaic appeared: three interlocking circles, their centers blackened. “The mark of the Balanc
- Writer
