CHAPTER 42
1027 Words
The council chamber was darker than usual.
Not because the windows were closed or the sky was cloudy, but because something hung in the air—thick, grim, and unspoken.
Elder Kion stood near the head of the room, his fingers steepled, his jaw tight. He looked older today. The lines on his face seemed deeper, and his normally firm voice had taken on a softer, more cautious edge.
Lucien’s attack had shaken them all.
“I will ask this only once,” Kion said slowly, voice cutting through the silence. “Do we believe the Moonbreather has emerged… or have we simply been mistaken?”
The question was met with a heavy pause.
One by one, the elders turned to glance at Elise—absent, as always from these meetings. The girl who once lit up with untamed power now moved through the halls like a shadow.
Elder Solon was the first to speak. “I’ve watched her, Kion. The surge she had during the trial—it hasn’t returned. Not even a flicker.”
“She’s lost her connection,” added Elder Rael. “Whatever she tapped into, it’s gone now. Maybe it was never hers to begin with.”
Another voice—sharp, skeptical—cut in. “The prophecy spoke of a Moonbreather rising during unrest. But what if… this isn’t the unrest yet? What if the true one hasn’t come?”
There were murmurs of agreement.
“So what is Elise Thorne then?” someone asked from the back. “If not the Moonbreather, then what?”
A long pause.
Then Elder Mirell spoke. “She’s something else. Marked by the Moon, perhaps… but not chosen by it.”
Kion stayed quiet for a long time.
Then finally: “Then we will prepare for the real Moonbreather. And we will manage the threat until they appear.”
Just like that—it was decided.
Later that Afternoon
Becky leaned against one of the stone pillars outside the Council Hall, arms crossed, eyes shining with satisfaction.
“So it’s official,” she said, loud enough for a few nearby warriors to hear. “Elise isn’t the Moonbreather.”
Luka looked up from tying the strap on his boots. “Are you serious?”
“Dead serious. I heard it with my own ears.” Becky smirked. “They’re going to wait for the real one. Said she’s just… something else. Something weaker.”
Luka chuckled, shaking his head. “Then what was all that drama for? The trial, the bloodline talk, Kai risking everything for her?”
Becky raised a brow. “Oh, didn’t you hear? Kai’s not denying it. He was in the meeting. Didn’t say a word in her defense.”
Luka whistled low. “Damn.”
Becky shrugged. “Guess even he’s tired of pretending.”
What neither of them knew was that Kai hadn’t spoken not because he agreed—but because he couldn’t bring himself to speak at all.
That Night
Elise sat alone in the back courtyard. The moon was full, pale, and watching.
She had heard the whispers all evening.
First from the kitchen staff. Then from passing warriors. Then the girl in the hallway who hadn’t realized Elise was standing right behind her.
She’s not the Moonbreather.
She’s nothing now.
The words shouldn’t have hurt anymore. She should’ve been numb to it by now. But this—this was different. This wasn’t gossip or cruelty. It was a decision. Made by the Council. By people who once placed all their hope in her.
And Kai?
He hadn’t said anything.
That was what cracked something deep inside her.
Not Becky’s voice. Not the elders’ silence.
His.
Meanwhile — In the Healing Wing
Kai sat beside Lucien’s bed, eyes bloodshot, shoulders hunched.
Lucien hadn’t woken once.
His chest rose and fell weakly, shallow like the wind was trying to leave his lungs and couldn’t find the door.
The healers had done all they could.
Now it was time and hope.
And Kai had neither.
He hadn’t slept. Had barely eaten. Hadn’t attended the war meetings with any attention. And in that Council chamber, when Elise’s name came up, when they decided she wasn’t the Moonbreather… he had said nothing.
Because he couldn’t focus on prophecies while his best friend was still fighting to breathe.
But deep down, another part of him whispered something darker.
What if the council was right?
What if Elise really wasn’t the Moonbreather?
What if everything—their bond, her power, the trial—had been a mistake?
He hated the thought.
But he was too broken to fight it.
Elise — Later that Night
She returned to her room quietly, the corridors nearly empty. Everyone had gone to sleep or to their respective patrols.
Her eyes burned.
She sat by the window, watching the stars, biting the inside of her cheek so hard she tasted blood.
She wasn’t angry at the council.
Or Becky.
Or even the elders who voted against her.
She was angry at herself.
For waiting.
For hoping.
For still looking toward Kai’s door every morning, thinking maybe—just maybe—he’d come back and tell her she mattered.
But not tonight.
Not anymore.
She stood, suddenly restless, and moved to the far side of her room.
She pulled out her aunt’s old satchel—the one Thea had given her when the trial ended. Inside, beneath layers of fabric, was a leather-bound book. She hadn’t opened it since Thea died.
Hands trembling, she flipped through it.
Old writings.
Sketches.
Symbols.
One page was folded twice. A message was scribbled on the inside flap in her aunt’s unmistakable hand:
“If they turn their backs on you, look within. The Moon speaks in more than one language.”
Elise’s fingers stopped on a page she didn’t remember ever seeing.
It pulsed—ever so faintly—with light.
One of the drawn symbols shimmered under the moonlight, just for a second.
Her breath caught.
She touched it—
—and her skin warmed.
Not hot.
Not painful.
But familiar.
Like someone calling her name from very far away.
- Writer
