Asterwyn’s buildings were lit by the paler Moonbeams that night. It seemed the fog was quietly lifted by the breeze along the cobblestones and appeared all around the city streets and lamps.
In the heart of the city, inside an area surrounded by enchanted marble and rune-carved altars, stood the worldwide Supernatural Museum of Relics and Arcana — an island of power whose mysteries were kept safe by the best wards.
And yet, tonight… it had been breached.
A low, agonized moan escaped one of the fallen guards as smoke coiled from the shattered archway of the main vault. Glass and gold inlays lay in ruin on the marble floor. The air reeked of burnt magic and cold steel.
At the center of the wreckage, a pedestal once gleamed beneath a cascade of starlight.
Now it stood empty.
The Moonsto
