Tales by Moonlight

No going back

The sound of chirping birds broke through my hazy dreams, pulling me back to consciousness. I stirred, my body heavy and my mind clouded, as if emerging from a dense fog. Blinking against the soft golden light spilling into the room, I struggled to recall the events of the previous night.

Elias—his name came to me like a whisper in the wind. I remembered the potion he had handed me, its vibrant hue swirling in the small vial. “It will help you,” he’d said, his voice calm but his eyes brimming with urgency. What had I needed help with? Why had I trusted him? The details eluded me like fragments of a broken mirror.

I pushed myself upright, my limbs sluggish. The morning sun streamed through the window, bathing the room in light so bright it stung my eyes. I squinted, raising a hand to shield myself, and that’s when I noticed him.

Aiden stood at the foot of my bed; his tall frame silhouetted by the sunlight. He was staring at me, his expression a mixture of relief and concern.

“You’re awake,” he said softly, his voice carrying a warmth that steadied my racing thoughts.

I nodded; my throat dry. “What happened?” The question felt as much directed at myself as at him.

Aiden stepped closer, his movements careful, as if he feared startling me. “You don’t remember?”

I shook my head. Flashes of memory flickered in my mind—Elias’s intense gaze, the bitter taste of the potion, a sudden, overwhelming darkness. But none of it made sense.

“You collapsed after drinking that potion,” Aiden said, his voice tight with concern. “Elias said it would help unlock your… abilities, but he didn’t explain what would happen to you.”

Abilities? The word echoed in my mind, unfamiliar yet oddly resonant. I searched Aiden’s face for answers, but his eyes only reflected my confusion.

“Abilities?” I echoed, my voice barely above a whisper.

Aiden nodded. “Elias believes you have a gift, Sarah. Something rare. But…” He hesitated, glancing toward the window as if the right words lay somewhere beyond the glass. “But I don’t trust him. Not completely.”

My heart thudded painfully in my chest. A gift? What kind of gift required a mysterious potion and left me feeling as though I’d been torn apart and put back together?

As I sat up further, my eyes drifted downward, and I froze. My clothes were different. Gone were the loose shirt and sweatpants I had been wearing before. Now, I was dressed in a simple but elegant gown that felt alien against my skin. My cheeks flushed as I glanced at Aiden.

He noticed my expression and quickly held up his hands. “You did that by yourself,” he blurted out, a faint pink tinge creeping up his neck. “Don’t even think about calling me a pervert.”

My lips parted, a retort ready on my tongue, but I stopped. How much had I forgotten? How long had I been unconscious? The questions loomed heavy in my mind.

“How long was I out?” I asked, my voice tinged with uncertainty.

Aiden exhaled slowly, relief that he’d defused my accusation visible on his face. “About a day. Elias said the potion might… take time to work.”

I swung my legs over the side of the bed, testing my strength. Aiden moved to steady me, but I waved him off. “I’m fine,” I said, though my trembling legs betrayed me.

As I stood, a sharp pang of hunger twisted my stomach. I realized I hadn’t eaten anything the previous day, and the emptiness gnawed at me, adding to my disorientation.

“You should rest,” Aiden urged.

I shook my head. “I need answers.” My voice was firm now, a flicker of determination rising within me. Whatever had happened, I couldn’t ignore the feeling that something inside me had changed.

Aiden hesitated, then sighed. “Elias is waiting downstairs. He’ll want to know you’re awake.”

My stomach churned at the thought of facing Elias. I didn’t know whether to trust him or fear him, but one thing was certain: I needed to uncover the truth. Gripping the bedpost for support, I took a deep breath and steadied myself.

When I reached the bottom of the stairs, the scent of freshly baked bread and warm tea wafted toward me. Elias had already set the table, the spread of food almost too inviting to resist. My stomach growled loudly, and I placed a hand over it, embarrassed.

Elias turned from where he stood by the window, his expression calm but watchful. “Good morning,” he said smoothly. “I figured you’d be hungry.”

My eyes narrowed slightly, but the pang in my stomach outweighed my suspicion. I took a seat cautiously, my gaze flickering between Elias and Aiden as the questions began forming in my mind. Whatever the answers were, I knew they would shape the path ahead.

Meanwhile, back at my house, chaos brewed. My father paced the living room, his face a storm of rage. His booming voice filled the air, sharp enough to make the household staff flinch.

“She ran away?” he growled; his fists clenched tightly. “With a man? And she’s refusing to come back?”

Clara, standing primly by the doorway, feigned innocence as she twisted the story to her advantage. “I tried to stop her,” she said, her voice laced with false concern. “But she wouldn’t listen. She said she… she didn’t care about this family anymore. She said she had other plans.”

The lie cut deeply, its venom working as intended. My father’s face darkened further, his trust in me cracking under Clara’s carefully planted seeds of doubt.

“If she thinks she can disgrace this family, she’s sorely mistaken,” he snarled, slamming his fist onto the table. “I’ll find her. And when I do, she’ll regret it.”

Clara hid a smirk behind her hand, satisfied with the chaos she had sown. But beneath her calm facade, a flicker of fear lingered. If I ever returned, the truth would inevitably come out—and Clara knew there would be consequences she might not escape.

Back at Elias’s house, after finishing my meal, I sat back, the food settling my nerves. But suddenly, like a jolt of electricity, the memories came flooding back. Clara. Her lies. Our confrontation. My heart raced as I pushed my chair back, jumping to my feet.

“I have to go,” I said abruptly, my voice urgent.

Aiden’s hand shot out, catching my wrist. “Your stepmother, right?” he asked, his tone serious.

I froze, my breath catching in my throat. “How do you know about her?” My voice was sharp, almost accusatory. How much did Aiden know about my life?

His expression didn’t waver. “There’s a lot I know about you, Sarah.”

Perplexed, I pulled my hand free, staring at him as if seeing him for the first time. The weight of his words lingered between us, unsettling and cryptic.

Without another word, I turned and left, my mind swirling with questions. Determination etched into my every step, I knew one thing: I needed to see my father, no matter the cost.

I ran home as fast as my legs could carry me, the urgency burning through my veins. When I finally reached the house, I barely paused to catch my breath before stepping inside. The door creaked as it opened, and I was greeted by the familiar scent of wood polish and distant cooking.

As I walked into the sitting room, my eyes immediately locked with my father’s. He stood by the fireplace, his posture rigid and his face thunderous. The tension in the air was palpable, thick enough to cut with a knife. For a moment, neither of us spoke, the silence stretching unbearably.