Unbroken: The Last Lunar Heir

Etched in Stone

The lower vaults beneath the sparring hall smelled of damp earth, rust, and cold stone.

While the other cadets slept off the morning’s injuries in the barracks, I stayed behind in the dark, stacking heavy iron shields and greasing the blunt broadswords we had used during drills. My ribs ached with every breath, a sharp reminder of Rhea’s knee, and my right foot throbbed where I had leaned on it too heavily all day.

I wiped a rag soaked in black gear oil along the edge of an iron short spear, setting it into a wooden rack.

The storage corridor stretched deep into the foundation of the mountain, lit only by a few sputtering oil lamps mounted on the stone pillars. At the far end of the vault sat an overflow alcove, cluttered with cracked training dummies and iron chest locks that hadn't been opened in decades.

I grabbed the heavy iron handles of a metal-bound crate, digging my heels into the dirt to haul it out of the doorway. The wood scraped loudly against the flagstones, kicking up a cloud of grey dust.

Behind the crate, embedded deep into the foundation wall itself, was something the academy had long forgotten.

It was a weathered stone weapon rack, half-crushed by the weight of the masonry above it. Carved into the base of the central stone post, barely visible beneath a thick layer of grime and dry moss, was a symbol.

A crescent moon, wrapped tightly inside the stylized glyph of a roaring wolf.

My pulse spiked.

I dropped the oil rag and stepped closer, my boots silent on the damp floor. I reached out, brushing the dust away with my thumb to trace the deep grooves carved into the ancient granite.

The moment my bare skin touched the cold stone, a sharp surge of heat flashed beneath my collarbone. The faint burn mark pulsed once, hard, matching the exact shape etched in the stone wall.

"You're supposed to be in the barracks."

The voice came from the shadowed staircase behind me, flat and icy cold.

I flinched, pulling my hand back as if I had touched hot iron.

Commander Cross stepped out of the shadow of the archway, holding an iron lantern. The warm yellow flame cast long, sharp angles across his pale face. He didn't look angry. He didn't have his hand on his weapon. His pale eyes simply moved from my face down to the carved emblem on the wall behind me.

I stood my ground, my fingers curling into fists at my sides. "What is it?"

Jaxen didn't answer right away. He stepped closer, the heavy soles of his boots echoing against the vault floor until he stopped three feet away. The light of his lantern illuminated the crescent carving, turning the deep stone grooves into dark shadows.

"Forget you ever saw it," Jaxen said quietly.

"You know what it means," I pressed, keeping my voice low so it wouldn't carry up the stone stairs.

"Enough to know you should never touch it again," he replied, his tone clipped and final.

Silence stretched between us in the cold vault. The oil lamp hissed softly on the wall.

Jaxen looked down at me, his gaze dropping to the high collar of my tunic, right where the mark burned beneath my skin.

"Has the mark appeared before?" he asked softly.

My chest tightened. The breath caught in my throat.

He wasn't asking whether I had a mark. He already knew. He was asking if this had happened before.

I kept my jaw set, refusing to answer.

Jaxen didn't press. His expression remained completely unreadable. He turned slowly, setting his eyes toward the stairs leading back up to the main hall.

"Finish stacking the iron and report to your quarters," he said, stepping into the shadows of the staircase.

I watched his dark coat disappear into the gloom. "Jaxen."

He paused on the third step, his back still turned to me.

"Stay away from Lyra," he said flatly.

He raised his boot, taking another step up the cold stone stairs. He didn't look back. He didn't offer comfort or explanation. But just as his hand reached the heavy iron latch of the upper door, his voice carried back down through the silent vault.

"...I thought the Eclipse Lineage died centuries ago."

Every muscle in my body locked.

The heavy iron door clicked shut, leaving me alone in the dark.