The Lost Luna

The Path Beyond Nightmere

Lyra’s POV

The house felt different after the truth.

Not smaller. Not darker. Just unfamiliar.

I sat at the table long after my parents stopped talking, staring at the small candle in the center. My hands rested in my lap, clenched tight, though I did not remember tightening them. My chest felt hollow, like something had been taken from me and replaced with air.

My thoughts moved too fast. I felt sad and confused and angry all at once. I tapped my fingers on my lap and twisted my hair around my fingers. I wanted to ask questions, to cry, to shout. The words stayed inside me. My chest felt tight. Part of me wanted to run away, to follow the pull I felt in my chest.

“You do not have to decide anything today,” my mother said softly.

I looked up at her. Her eyes were red. My father stood near the door, arms crossed, his face hard with worry.

“I know,” I replied.

But deep inside, I already had.

The rest of the day passed slowly. Too slowly. I helped my mother clean the house, swept the floor, and folded clothes. Simple tasks. Familiar movements. Everything felt like I was living someone else’s life. I watched my parents as I worked. Their eyes looked worried. Their hands shook sometimes when they thought I was not looking. Nothing here felt like it belonged to me anymore.

When I stepped outside, the air felt sharper. The village sounds clouded me. Laughter. Voices. Footsteps.

None of it felt like mine anymore.

I walked toward the river alone. My parents did not stop me this time.

The water flowed steady and calm, the same as it had my whole life. I knelt by the bank and dipped my fingers into it. Cold. Real. My reflection looked back at me. I did not know this girl fully. I whispered questions to the night. What had I lost? Why did the dreams never stop? The water was cold and real. The pull toward Moonstone was stronger than ever.

“Who was I before?” I whispered.

The river did not answer.

But something else did.

That pull in my chest tightened, sudden and strong. My breath caught as the name rose again, clear and heavy.

Moonstone.

I stood quickly, heart racing.

That night, I dreamt without fire.

I stood on a cliff beneath a silver moon. The wind tugged at my hair. Wolves howled below, their voices filled with longing, not pain.

A path stretched before me.

When I woke, I was sure of my decision.

At dawn, I packed.

Not much. A few clothes. Bread. Water. The gold pendant my mother had given me years ago. I paused over it, fingers brushing the cool metal.

My mother stood in the doorway, watching.

“So it begins,” she said quietly.

I turned to her. “You knew this would happen.”

She nodded. “We hoped for more time.”

My father entered behind her. He carried a small bundle wrapped in cloth.

“You will need this,” he said, placing it in my hands.

Inside lay a blade. Silver. Simple. Sharp.

“For protection,” he added.

My throat tightened. “You are letting me go.”

“We cannot stop you,” my mother said. “And we would never try.”

I hugged them both, breathing them in, holding tight like the world might pull us apart forever.

“I will come back,” I promised.

My father rested his forehead against mine. “Just come back alive.”

I left Nightmere as the sun set.

The path stretched ahead, unknown and heavy with promise. With every step, the pull grew stronger. Fear walked beside me, but so did something else.

Hope.

And far beyond the trees, Moonstone waited.