The Alphas Triplets

Echoes of the Past - Part 2

By morning, the three of us had stopped pretending the dreams were coincidence. The same ache haunted us - behind the eyes, in the chest, in the marks that pulsed whenever we drew too close together. The First Luna’s voice lingered just under thought, whispering in fragments that dissolved the moment I tried to listen.

Lilly spread a hand-drawn map across the kitchen table. “There’s something beneath the main hall,” she said. “Old records call it “The Star Chamber.” It’s sealed now, but it matches what we saw-the walls, the sigils.”

James frowned. “Dad’s not going to let us start digging through ancient ruins.”

“Then we don’t tell him,” I said.

We waited until midnight. The packhouse slept, save for the guards pacing the outer grounds. The three of us moved through the corridors like shadows. The air below the main hall was colder, damp with the scent of stone and time. At the far end of the hall a staircase curved downward, half hidden behind an old tapestry of the Moon Goddess.

The steps ended at a door carved from obsidian. The same three crescents glowed faintly on it’s surface.

“Here,” Lilly whispered.

James pressed his palm to the center crescent. It stayed dark.

Lilly tried next- her mark shone gold, but the light slipped off the stone like water.

I took a breath and laid my hand over theirs. The moment my mark touched the surface, silver light shot through the carvings. The crescents turned, locking together into a star. The door opened with a sigh like a breath long held.

The chamber beyond was vast and circular, lit by a single shaft of moonlight that fell through a c***k in the ceiling. Dust motes drifted in the beam, glittering like tiny stars. At the center stood an alter of white stone. Upon it lay three objects: a crown of twisted silver, a dagger with a handle made of bone, and a book bound in silver thread.

“The relics from the vision,” Lilly whispered.

We approached slowly. The air buzzed with quiet energy. When I reached for the book, the light on the alter brightened until it almost hurt to look. The moment my fingers brushed the cover, warmth flooded my chest-recognition, belonging, dread.

The first page opened itself. The script inside shimmered faintly, written in a language I somehow understood.

I am the First Luna, keeper of the Moon’s promise. My blood will return when the stars align. We will rise again, bound by love, broken by choice.

The letters bled into images: the same temple, the same burning sky. A cycle repeating-Luna after Luna, power awakening and consuming its heirs again and again.

Lilly’s voice trembled. “She tried to warn us.”

“Or to prepare us,” I said.

James looked toward the dagger. “What about that?”

I picked it up. The hilt pulsed once beneath my touch, then settled. Silver light ran along the blade, reflecting the moonbeam overhead.

Words appeared across the altar, carved by unseen hands:

Blood remembers what the mind forgets.

The moonlight flickered. A cold wind swept through the chamber, extinguishing every trace of glow except for the faint shimmer in our marks. From somewhere deep within the stone, a voice-hers-rose again:

“Every light casts its own shadow, Jennie. The question is-will you burn, or will you blind?”

Then silence.

We stood there for what felt like hours, none of us daring to move. Finally I closed the book and looked at my siblings.

“We need to tell them,” Lilly said.

“Not yet,” I answered. “First we learn what this means. Then we decide whether to burn or to blind.”

When we left, the chamber sealed itself behind us, the star on the door fading into darkness once more.

That night, as I watched the moon rise over the forest, I swore I could hear her heartbeat in the wind-the First Luna, still watching, still waiting for us to finish what she began.