The Broken Moon - Part 2
I didn’t sleep that night. The c***k in the Moon stayed in my mind, a wind that wouldn’t close. The relics called to me, faint and patient, like waves against a shore. I gave in before dawn. The Star Chamber waited beneath the packhouse, unchanged except for the frost that now filmed the walls. The crown, the dagger, the journal-all three hummed when I entered, their light dimmed but alive. I knelt before them and pressed my palm to the alter. “Show me,” I whispered. “Tell me what you did.” The relics answered with silence fires, then with warmth that gathered under my skin until it hurt. The chamber blurred. When it cleared, I was standing somewhere older than memory. Moonlight poured through a ruined ceiling. The First Luna stood at the alter, the same dagger in her hand, the same c
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