THE TALE OF MOONFANG

The salty breeze drifted through the window as Thalia looked up from her book, her thoughts slipped to the vast, endless sea. It called to her in a way nothing else ever had—wild, free, and full of promises she had never been allowed to chase. She sighed softly, wishing she could be out there, living instead of simply dreaming. Her gaze fell back to the open page before her. Beneath the image of a cascading waterfall were the words: Dare to believe. It was the last picture her father had sent her before he disappeared. A knock at the door broke her thoughts. Time for work. Thalia rose, grabbing her worn satchel and slinging it over her shoulder. She ran a comb through her auburn hair, studying her reflection for a moment before applying a small touch of balm to her dry lips. Satisfied, she stepped out of her room and made her way downstairs. The familiar scent of aged paper and polished wood greeted her as she entered the library. It was comforting in its own way. This place—quiet, steady, unchanging—was all she had ever truly known. She moved between the shelves, dusting carefully, her fingers brushing along the spines of countless stories she had already memorized. Her mother had died bringing her into the world, leaving her father to raise her the best he could. And though he had loved her deeply, he had never been one to stay in one place. The sea always called him back. Still, he never forgot her. Letters came often—filled with stories, sketches, and lessons of the world beyond their small town. Sometimes he came in person, bringing with him the scent of saltwater and adventure. She remembered the last time she saw him. His warm arms, easy laugh and his sea-green eyes—the same eyes she carried now. Her hand drifted to the locket on her chest, where a small picture of them lay tucked safely inside. Footsteps echoed from the staircase. “Starting the morning with tears, missy?” her aunt’s voice came gently. Thalia blinked, surprised to feel the dampness on her cheeks. “Come here, Thalia,” Aunt Bree said, opening her arms. She stepped forward, leaning into the embrace. “I can’t believe he’s gone… His last letter was just last week.” “I know, sweetie,” her aunt murmured, brushing a kiss against her forehead. “But you’re strong. Stronger than you think. Your father would want you to keep smiling.” Thalia gave a small, shaky chuckle. “You’re the best, Aunt Bree.” The bell above the door rang sharply, cutting the moment short as a group of sailors entered, their laughter filling the room. “Good morning, ladies! Looking ravishing as always!” one called. The others followed with grins and teasing remarks as they made themselves comfortable. Thalia recognized them immediately. They had traveled with her father. They were the ones who brought back his journal—the last piece of him she had. Captain Buk stepped forward, taking Aunt Bree’s hand and placing a dramatic kiss upon it. “Age hasn’t slowed you one bit, lassy. I’m still waiting for you to say yes.” Aunt Bree laughed, waving him off. Thalia moved behind the counter. “What can I help you with?” “One as fine as you could help with anything,” another sailor said, earning a round of laughter. She rolled her eyes. “Try again.” “Enough, you lot,” Aunt Bree cut in. “Leave the girl alone.” “Well, she’s at the age to wed,” one muttered. “Best pick ’em while they’re pretty,” another added, and the group burst into laughter. Thalia’s expression stayed calm, but inside, irritation stirred. That was all they ever saw—a future wife. Never more. Captain Buk cleared his throat. “We’re here for a map of the southern seas.” Thalia froze. “That’s where my father went missing.” The room quieted. “Aye,” the captain said gently. “Last place we dropped him. He was a good man. Bit crazy—but good.” A faint smile touched her lips. That sounded like him. “We’re heading further south,” he continued. “Trading route. But we’ve lost our navigator.” “I can do it,” Thalia cut in Silence—then laughter. “You?” one scoffed. “I was taught,” she insisted. “I’ve studied the routes and charts—probably better than some of you.” “Women aren’t allowed on ships, lassy,” another said. “I don’t need permission—I just need a chance.” “You’ve never even been at sea,” someone argued. “I don’t have to be useless,” she shot back. “Thalia.” Her aunt’s voice cut through everything. “The sea is no place for you.” The words hit harder than the laughter. Without another word, Thalia turned and stormed upstairs, ignoring the calls behind her. She slammed her door shut, the sound echoing. Her chest tightened as she sank to the floor, anger and grief crashing together. She was tired—tired of being dismissed, of being told what she could not be. Her father had believed in her. He had seen her. And now he was gone. A soft tapping at the window broke through her thoughts. She looked up. “Nyx?” The sea raven perched on the sill, sleek feathers glinting in the light. “Nyx!” Thalia rushed forward, throwing the window open. The bird hopped inside, letting out a soft coo as Thalia gathered her into her arms. Relief flooded through her. She had thought Nyx was lost too—another piece of her father gone. “You came back,” she whispered, pressing her forehead gently against the bird. Nyx nuzzled her in return. Her father had given her this bird, trained her to carry messages between them. Nyx had always been more than just a companion—she was a link, a reminder that distance never truly meant separation. Holding her now, Thalia felt something shift inside her. Strength. Resolve. She took a slow breath, her grip tightening just slightly. If no one would give her a chance, she would take one. One way or another, she was getting on that ship.