THE LOST MOON 🌗

Episode 1: The Night the Moon Vanished At midnight, the moon vanished. Ophelia saw it happen. No one else in the kingdom of Avelora noticed. Across the villages and cities, people slept beneath the sacred moonlight, trusting its silver glow to protect their homes, bless their harvests, and keep the creatures of darkness beyond the kingdom’s borders. But Ophelia was standing alone beside the old well when the moon flickered above her. For one breath, its silver face turned a deep, unnatural red. Then it disappeared. The sky went black. A pot shattered somewhere behind her. Dogs began to howl. Doors slammed as frightened villagers rushed indoors. Ophelia remained frozen beneath the empty sky. Every child in Avelora knew the warning: Never venture outside when the moon goes dark. But Ophelia had never been afraid of the dark. She had spent her entire life in the quiet village of Eldermere, carrying the uneasy feeling that something about her was different. Shadows followed her even when there was no light. Sometimes, when fear or anger seized her, candles went out without warning. She had learned to keep these things secret. Tonight, however, secrecy would no longer save her. Then the palace bells rang. Once. Twice. Three times. Ophelia knew what the bells meant. They were only rung when the kingdom faced a threat that could destroy them all. She turned to run, but stopped when she noticed something strange on the ground. Her shadow was moving in the opposite direction. Ophelia stepped backward. The shadow remained still. She lifted her hand. The shadow lifted its hand too—but a moment too late. Her heart pounded. “What are you?” she whispered. The shadow stretched across the ground toward the old well, its dark fingers curling around the stones. Then a voice rose from the darkness beneath it. “Finally,” it murmured. “You have awakened.” Ophelia stumbled away from the well. “Who said that?” A cold wind swept through the village. The water inside the well began to glow with a pale blue light. Something rose slowly from its depths. A silver key. It floated before her, turning gently in the air. Strange symbols covered its surface, and at its center was a crest Ophelia had seen only once—in a royal history book inside the village school. The crest belonged to the royal family of Avelora. Before she could touch it, the voice spoke again. “The moon was never yours to protect, child.” Ophelia swallowed hard. “Then whose was it?” Silence. Then the voice answered. “Yours.” Suddenly, the key shot toward her palm. The moment it touched her skin, a brilliant flash of silver light illuminated the village. Images flooded her mind: a burning palace, a woman wearing a golden crown, and a baby wrapped in blue cloth. Then she heard a scream. A woman’s voice. Hide her. Whatever happens, never let the king find her. Ophelia fell to her knees. When she opened her eyes, the key had disappeared. A mark shaped like a crescent moon glowed on her wrist. Before she could understand what had happened, the sound of horses thundered along the village road. Royal soldiers. Their leader rode into the village carrying a scroll sealed with the king’s crest. “By order of His Majesty,” he announced, “every household shall be searched. The moon has been stolen, and the thief is believed to be hiding among you.” The soldiers spread through the village. Ophelia pulled her sleeve over the glowing mark. Then the captain stopped directly in front of her. He studied her face, then glanced at her wrist. His expression changed. “It’s her,” he whispered. Ophelia’s breath caught. The captain drew his sword. “Take her alive!” She ran. Behind her, the soldiers shouted. Villagers screamed as she raced between the houses and toward the forest beyond the village. But as she crossed the boundary stones, the trees began to move. Their branches twisted overhead, forming a dark archway. The shadows parted to let her through. And somewhere deep inside the forest, a woman’s voice whispered a name Ophelia had never heard before. “Welcome home, Princess.”