CHAPTER 57
1319 Words
The wind over the western ridge did not howl — it sighed, as though even the skies mourned.
Elise stood at the balcony of the eastern wing, her fingers curled around the cold stone ledge. From here, Whitemoon looked deceptively peaceful. The banners still flew.
The courtyards still buzzed with routine. But she felt it. The shift. The way the air pulsed differently, as if something underneath the castle floor was watching. Waiting.
She hadn’t spoken much since the binding. Not to Kai. Not to anyone. The ceremonial cuffs still pressed around her wrists, silver filigree glowing faintly when touched by moonlight. A symbol of her “honor.” A prison by another name.
Her aunt was gone.
No one said it aloud. But Thea had not returned. And that silence was louder than any announcement.
Elise exhaled slowly. Her power was still a ghost in her blood, dormant and unreachable. And she, despite all her training, all her sacrifices, was once again reduced to a symbol.
She left the balcony and returned inside. The council wanted her to attend a gathering in the southern wing that afternoon. Appear composed. Loyal. Useful.
She didn’t feel any of those things.
“Elise?”
The voice snapped her out of her thoughts. She turned.
It was Saelin.
The young guard looked more tired than usual, his eyes rimmed red and his armor slightly askew, as if he’d been rushing.
“There’s something you need to see,” he said. “It’s urgent.”
“From the council?” she asked.
He hesitated. “No. From the Hollow border.”
The Hollow?
She followed without further question, trailing behind him through a winding corridor that led deep below the eastern wing—places Elise had only heard about in passing. Saelin paused before a sealed door, then glanced over his shoulder.
“They’ll strip me of my post for showing you this,” he muttered. “But you need to know.”
The door opened with a grinding groan. Cold air greeted them. Beyond it, a chamber flickered with low-burning runes. And in the center—
A corpse.
Elise’s breath caught.
The body was burned, twisted unnaturally. And yet, there was no mistaking the remnants of a crescent-shaped mark on the left arm.
“What is this?” she whispered.
“She was found at the Hollow’s edge. Just yesterday. We haven’t identified her yet. But she wasn’t killed by beasts.”
Elise stepped closer. The girl’s hands were broken—fingers twisted inwards, like she’d been trying to hold onto something in her final moments. There were symbols etched into her skin. Ones Elise didn’t recognize.
“Whoever did this,” Saelin said quietly, “wanted to send a message.”
Elise turned toward him. “This mark… this is Moonbreather blood.”
Saelin nodded grimly. “You’re not the first.”
The realization hit Elise with a weight she couldn’t describe. For so long, the Hollow had been the threat. But now—
It was the council.
Elise left the chamber shortly after, mind reeling, body trembling. Not from fear. From rage. From grief.
From clarity.
They weren’t just discarding her. They had done this before. Covered it up. Buried the truth so deep not even the old books dared whisper it.
She returned to her chambers and sat wordlessly for an hour. Then she reached under the floorboards and retrieved a worn satchel. Inside were the few remnants of her past: a carved crescent stone, Thea’s old journal, and a silver pendant once gifted by a woman Elise only faintly remembered—her mother.
She clutched the pendant tightly.
I won’t disappear like her. I won’t be their tool.
Elsewhere, Northern Tunnels
Mira stood inside a circular stone room, lit only by oil lamps. The scout she’d handed the scroll to earlier now stood beside her, joined by two others. All wore the mountain crest.
“The council is planning something,” Mira said. “And Elise is being cornered.”
The lead scout, a woman named Breya, nodded. “Our contacts in the south mentioned disappearances. Moon-touched children vanishing. Elders pretending not to notice.”
Mira’s jaw tensed. “We can’t keep pretending it’s not connected.”
Breya stepped forward. “If the Hollow is rising, and the girl they fear most is being silenced, then we’re out of time.”
Mira reached into her coat and pulled out a hand-drawn map. “This path leads to a place the Everglade texts never name. Rael mentioned it once. Said it held records the council tried to burn.”
“The Forgotten Vaults,” Breya said quietly.
“They might be our only chance at understanding what’s coming.”
Breya gave a curt nod. “Then we go at dawn.”
Midnight, at Everglade Archives
Nessa moved through the shelves with purpose. The journal Rael had given her was tucked into her cloak. She scanned each row carefully, fingers trailing over titles until she found what she was looking for: a record marked Cycle 313: The Ceremony of Silence.
She opened the book and flipped to the final pages.
There, in blood-red ink, was a name:
Seren Valen.
Moonbreather. Rejected.
Status: Condemned.
Nessa’s stomach turned. Seren. The erased girl. The one who had come before Elise.
The record didn’t say how she died. But it did list a location: Vault 7. Sealed under royal order.
That meant one thing: Seren had not been erased by chance. She had been hidden. On purpose.
And Elise was next.
Nessa closed the book and turned to leave.
But someone was waiting.
High Chancellor Ren stood at the end of the aisle, expression unreadable.
“You’ve been reading where you shouldn’t,” he said, voice soft.
“I could say the same about your council’s silence,” Nessa replied, standing tall.
Ren stepped closer. “You’re clever, healer. But cleverness won’t protect you from what’s coming.”
“I’m not here to be protected,” she said. “I’m here to protect her.”
Ren’s smile was cold. “Then I suggest you run. Before you’re forced to choose between your loyalty and your life.”
An Hour Before Dawn,
Kai stood atop the training yard wall, cloak rustling in the breeze. He hadn’t returned to his chambers.
Sleep had eluded him.
Every time he closed his eyes, he saw her—Elise—standing beneath the twin moons with that look on her face.
Not hatred. Not sorrow.
Disappointment.
Myla had been right. He had stood still while Elise was bound to a fate she didn’t choose. All because he’d been too afraid to lose what little peace he’d built.
He thought he was protecting her.
But in truth… he’d only protected himself.
“Kai,” a voice called behind him.
It was Dara, the old armsmaster. She hadn’t worn her armor in years, but today, she had a blade strapped to her back.
“There’s a storm coming,” she said. “And it won’t wait for you to catch up.”
Kai didn’t answer.
Dara stepped beside him. “I trained your mother, you know. Before she was Lady of Whitemoon. She once told me the only way to protect someone truly is to stand with them. Not in front. Not behind.”
Kai’s fists clenched. “I’m afraid that if I go to her now… she’ll shut me out.”
“She might,” Dara said gently. “But at least she’ll know you didn’t let fear win.”
Beneath Everglade,
Far below the surface, the shadows curled inward.
The Hollow pulsed, quiet but aware. And in its depths, the girl who had once been Seren Valen opened her eyes.
She remembered pain. She remembered voices. And most of all, she remembered a promise:
No more silence.
The light at her fingertips was dim—but it was growing.
- Writer
