Shadow of the Moon

Chapter 8

Estella

The immediate aftermath was catastrophic. Astra, understandably, was distraught when she saw Cyrus carrying me over the shimmer. All of my strength had failed me after expending so much of it defending Kyros. Stupid Cyrus was too blinded by his rage at seeing me injured to think clearly.



He had murmured his apologies when A-pa was far enough away so that he couldn’t hear. My brother knew what he had done was too far. I understood why he and A-pa had been so angry, I had vanished into the forbidden land only to show up bloodied and barely conscious with the heir to the Elorian throne at my side.

Kyros was a prince! Not only just a prince, but the prince. He possessed the flames that Queen Celeste was known for. After I had been taken to Thallia to be cleaned and my injuries tended to, A-pa had chewed me out for allowing the heir to the Eloria throne so close to me. That he was the enemy and that I needed to be more cautious.

But Kyros had saved my life, done the best he could to keep me conscious and talking while bringing me back to the shimmer.

I sighed, a wave of guilt washing over me. Kyros had risked so much to help me, and now, because of Cyrus's impulsiveness, he might face repercussions. I closed my eyes, picturing his amber eyes, the warmth of his smile, the gentle touch of his hand as he cleaned the blood from my brow. I owed him a debt I didn't know how to repay. My mind was still reeling, even days later.

Thallia fussed over my injuries for days, refusing to allow me to leave my bedchambers. She was training to become a healer and cleaned and bandaged the cuts and scrapes, her touch gentle and practiced. I had winced as she applied a soothing balm to the gash on my arm, but I welcomed the care, the sense of comfort it brought.

The punishment for my escapade had been surprisingly lenient – a few weeks of confined to the manor grounds and extra duties assisting Thallia and Lynx in the gardens.

I had expected far worse, perhaps even imprisonment in the castle dungeons. But A-pa, his eyes softening as I had called out to him, had shown a rare leniency. I attributed it to my voice, the sound of his own daughter speaking his name after years of silence.

I hadn't planned to speak. It just happened. The sight of him standing there, at the edge of that alien world, his face etched with worry, had unleashed a torrent of emotions I couldn't contain. Fear, relief, love... all pouring out in that single, desperate cry of "A-pa." I had seen the surprise in his eyes, the flicker of something akin to joy, and it had warmed my heart.

Even Cyrus, his initial fury momentarily forgotten, had softened at the sound of my voice. He had always been protective, my fierce older brother, but at that moment, I saw a different side of him, a vulnerability that mirrored my own. But then, Cyrus attacked Kyros. The memory made me cringe.

The days passed by with agonizing slowness. I paced my room restlessly, the walls seeming to close in on me with every passing hour. Sleep offered no escape, my nights plagued by dreams of the shimmer and Kyros's mesmerizing amber eyes. When Thallia finally deemed me healed enough to join her, I found my temper to be short, my frustrations growing and simmering.

I snapped at the servants, feeling like a caged bird, my wings clipped, my spirit stifled. The nights like tonight, where I spent time in the garden with my sisters, were particularly hard.

"Estella, you're spacing out again," Thallia said, her voice a light flutter as she weaved her magic through the soil. Thallia, with her midnight hair tied back with an emerald ribbon, was an ethereal sight.

She was graceful like our mother, kind, and always put others above herself. I couldn't stand it. I had taken after our mother in many ways other than looks. Thallia shared her gift for nature, plant life bending to her will. Lynx was nestled beside her, mimicking her digging motions through the flower beds. I shook my head, clearing the memories from my mind as I dug my claws into the soil, ripping at the roots in my path.

"Estella, I said use the tool! Your claws will hurt the roots," Thallia said, thrusting a hand rake into my hand. I rolled my eyes in response. At Thallias reprimand, Lynx began to snicker, a sound that grated against my short fuse. I stuck my tongue out at my little sister, flashing my teeth at her. The move had her ducking her head into Thallias’ side. Thallia only sighed, shaking her head as she pried our little sister off her arm.

A sound caught my attention, a rustle of fabric. I looked up to see Proteus standing at the end of the garden, his eyes locked only onto Thallia. My sister sprung up from her crouched position and ran over to the captain of the guard. I diverted my gaze as the two locked lips and Proteus lifted her off the ground in a spin, her simple emerald gown twirling with the motion.

Lynx made a gagging sound and rose to her feet and disappeared under the weeping willow branches. She had formed a small little outcove under the trees, bending and drooping the branches to form a hideaway where she would go when our sister was being particularly lovey-dovey with her mate.

My stomach churned with a mix of envy and disgust. Thallia, always the perfect daughter, the obedient sister, had found her perfect match in Proteus, the stoic and dutiful captain of the guard. Their love was a picture-perfect fairytale, a stark contrast to the turmoil within my own heart.

To add insult to injury, A-pa had assigned Proteus as my guard while I was still being punished. Proteus, a young warrior with a stoic demeanor and a piercing gaze, was not just any guard; he was the captain of the royal guard, answering directly to Cyrus.

Don't get me wrong, Proteus was a decent male. He cared deeply for Thallia and loved the kingdom. He would do anything to protect the crown, and he possessed a rare and powerful gift. He had an ability to create things that Aunt Ursa had called Phantasmal Constructs. Basically, he could create a projection of anything and turn it into a physical being he could use in battle. It was how he was able to become captain of the guard at only 23.

But despite his good qualities, I couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn't right. He was so serious all the time, so focused on the kingdom and the guards he commanded, so unlike Thallias' carefree and kind nature.

It was the thought of my sister's betrothed watching my every move, reporting my every transgression to A-pa, that made my stomach churn. I felt betrayed, my own father seemingly determined to crush my spirit, to use Proteus as a tool to control me, to confine me.

The mate bond was a sacred union, a merging of two souls destined to be together. I had witnessed this firsthand in my parents. I remembered the annual Mating Ceremony, a celebration held under the full moon, where they would renew their vows.

Their voices blending in a harmonious chant as they intertwined their hands, their eyes locked in a gaze that spoke of an unbreakable bond. They were two halves of a whole, their strengths complementing each other, their love a beacon that illuminated the darkest corners of our realm.

Aunt Ursa, a wise woman with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes, had once explained that when a soul is born, it is split in two, destined to search for its missing half. When mates finally unite, it is like coming home, a reunion of two parts that were always meant to be together. I had listened, my heart filled with a mixture of longing and doubt. Was such a perfect connection truly possible?

I saw it in Cyrus and Artemis. The moment they met, it was as if the world shifted on its axis. Their eyes locked across the crowded ballroom, and a hush fell over the room as everyone witnessed the spark, the undeniable recognition of two souls finding their perfect match. Their bond was undeniable, their love a testament to the power of destiny.

Cyrus was tall, with medium-length black hair and the same violet eyes that Astra and I bore. Artemis was a shorter, curvy female with long auburn hair that curled around her face. She had striking ice-blue eyes and pale skin. She was blessed with the ability to influence the air around her, a rare gift for Tenebrian fae. Artemis was my brother's perfect pair. She was a compliment to him in every way.

She was going to make a wonderful Queen someday, with her kind and nurturing soul. She was like a sister to me; I guess she was my sister. She and Cyrus haven’t had their ceremony yet; that is set for the spring. The babe growing in her belly would be one of the luckiest beings in all the realms. I had never seen Cyrus cry before, but when Artemis told him of their child, he wept tears of pure joy.

But what about me? When Astra and I were born, identical twins with an uncanny connection, some whispered that we were two halves of a single soul. Was that the universe's way of telling me that my sister and I didn't have a destined mate? That our bond, as deep and unbreakable as it was, was all we would ever have? The thought left a bittersweet ache in my heart.

Today was Astra's and my fifteenth birthday, a day that should have been filled with joy and celebration. Instead, I felt a heavy weight of disappointment settling over me. I had hoped to beg A-pa to lift my punishment, just for this one special day. I yearned for a few precious hours of freedom, a chance to escape the stifling confines of the manor and perhaps, just perhaps, find a way to return to the shimmer.

But my confinement had created a rift between Astra and me. My twin, always the more rebellious of the two, refused to be monitored, her temper flaring at the constant presence of the guards. My refusal to explain the events at the border, my insistence on protecting Azha and Norma, had only fueled Astra's frustration.

She was furious at me for refusing to explain what had happened with Azha, but I knew if I did I would be damming not only Azha, but her family to hardship. Now, we barely spoke, our once inseparable bond strained by secrets and resentment.

I stood, brushing the dirt off of my simple tunic and pants, avoiding the display of affection loudly occurring to my right when a voice snapped me out of my train of thought.

“Estella,” Astra hissed, her voice barely above a whisper. I whirled to see my sister crouched behind the low wall of the garden, urging me to come to her. I threw a glance towards my chaperone to see he was thoroughly busy with Thallia before rushing over.

Astra pulled me down behind the wall, nearly tackling me with a hug. Her violet eyes, a mirror to my own were lined with a mischievous glint. “Happy Birthday!!” We said in a unified whisper. Both of us chuckled in unison.

“I have news,” Astra said, her face suddenly becoming serious. “A-pa won’t see either of us today; he and Cyrus were called away to Somnium. I guess one of the human settlements is having some land disputes.” She said, her hands tight on my shoulders.

My shoulders slumped. Somnium, the city of dreams, was a four-day ride from the Obsidian Keep, our capital city, even at Cyrus and A-pas accelerated pace. My hopes of appealing to A-pa for a reprieve from my punishment vanished like mist in the moonlight.

“Are you serious?” I groaned; my voice laced with disappointment.

“Buttt,” Astra sing-songed, drawing out the word with a dramatic flourish, “don't despair, my dear mirror! I have a brilliant idea for how you can visit your prince.” She winked, her smile widening.

I mentally kicked myself. Why had I ever confided in Astra about Kyros? My sister had been relentless ever since, teasing me mercilessly, calling Kyros my "prince paramour" and planning our wedding with excruciating detail.

“Keep your voice down Astra, Proteus is right over there,” I said, clamping a hand over Astras mouth. I threw a glance over my shoulder. I couldn’t see Proteus or my sister from here, which made me anxious.

Astra's teeth nipped at my hand just hard enough to make me recoil, a mischievous grin spreading across her face. "Oh, relax," she said with a dismissive wave of her hand. "He's too busy with his face between Thallia's breasts to notice anything else." She wrinkled her nose dramatically. "Ugh, I can practically smell their arousal from here. It's enough to make me gag."

"Astra," I said, rolling my eyes. "Don't be crude." The last thing I wanted to picture was my sister's bedroom life. "What is your brilliant plan?"

Astra leaned closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Listen, it's like this. I'm not under A-pa’s strict orders, just you. So, I can come and go as I please." She poked me in the chest with a dramatic flourish.

"Yes, so you've explained," I said flatly. "But how does that help me?"

"Just listen to me, Estella," Astra insisted, her hands gripping my shoulders. She leaned closer, her eyes gleaming with excitement. "Proteus only needs to follow one of us around. If we swap clothes, he'll think I'm you, and you're me! You'll be free!"

My eyes widened. "Wait, you want to switch places with me? But... what about you?"

Astra shrugged, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Oh, I'll think of something. Besides, it's your lovesick heart that needs to escape, not mine.” She winked. “Consider it a birthday present from your favorite twin.”

I bit my lip, my brow furrowed with doubt. “Do you really think he'll fall for it? We may look alike, but we're not exactly the same person.” I imagined myself trying to mimic Astra's bold stride and confident demeanor, and I almost cringed. I was far too quiet, too reserved to pull off such a charade.

“Estella, we've shared everything our entire lives,” Astra said, her voice laced with exasperation. “Don't you think we know how to act like each other?”

“I know how you act,” I countered, “and that's precisely what worries me.”

I sighed. “Besides, my voice is deeper than yours. He'll notice.”

Astra rolled her eyes. “Oh, please. You're overthinking this. Just trust me. Its just like when we were little and wanted out of doing chores,” She began unfastening her cloak, tossing it onto a nearby bench. “Come on, let's switch.”

I hesitated, my gaze lingering on the discarded cloak. This was a risky plan, with potentially severe consequences if we were caught. But the yearning to see Kyros again, to escape the stifling confines of the manor, outweighed my fear. I took a deep breath and began to unbutton my own tunic.

“Estella?” Proteus’s voice boomed out through the garden. Astra and I looked at each other, our eyes wide.