The late evening wind carried the scent of pine and roses through the open balcony window of Luna's room. The sky had begun to shift into twilight, streaks of molten gold melting into deep lavender. She stood near the edge, arms folded around herself, watching the treetops sway under the soft pull of dusk.
Serion hadn't returned yet.
It had been hours since he'd left for that meeting.
Luna's hands trembled slightly, not from fear, but from the sense of inevitability.
She had lived this moment before—in another life, in another timeline. She had read about it as a reader, pitied it as Sia, and now, she was poised in the quiet pause before the nightmare began.
Except this time, she wouldn't be silent.
A flutter of wings cut through the still air.
Luna turned just in time to see the silhouette of a white pigeon landing on the windowsill. A ribbon of violet was tied around its leg—Velira's mark.
With deft hands, Luna untied the tiny scroll and unrolled it. Her breath caught before she even read the words.
Then—
A few hours earlier
The Hollow Crossroads lived up to its name.
An intersection of forgotten paths between thick woods and broken ruins, it stood as a relic of an era long buried. A crooked stone arch loomed above the center clearing, and mist hung low around the crumbling road.
Serion stepped from his carriage alone, the air around him still and watchful.
The apothecary was already there.
He stood beneath the arch, his figure cloaked in a deep green robe. A mask of fine porcelain covered his face from nose to jaw, leaving only his eyes exposed. Those eyes shimmered—the same color Serion remembered.
"Varric," Serion said coldly. "You disappeared with No notice.anf No message. For over six months. And now what is this the letter what do you want"
The apothecary bowed deeply, his posture reverent.
"Forgive me, Lord Caelora. I had no intention of causing worry. I left because... I heard whispers. Whispers of something miraculous."
Serion's eyes narrowed.
"You ran from your contract."
"No, my lord. I ran toward hope."
The words were soft, spoken with a sincerity that cut through the tension like honeyed wine.
"What hope?"
Varric straightened slowly, the fading light catching on the fine fabric of his robes. "A boy who wasBlind from birth Now can sees. no known priest was able to cure him. No temple was able to bless him like lady Luna . But he sees now.Is not it a miracle."
Serion didn't move. But something in his chest twisted.
"You went to find out how," he said flatly.
"Yes. For her. For Lady Luna," Varric replied. "I remembered the way she held herself. Her silence. Her sorrow. And the way you looked at her, my lord. I have served many nobles. None love their family as you do."
Serion clenched his jaw.
"I found the source," Varric continued. " He was Not a priest, Not a noble. He A wizard, Disguised and hunted, yes. But he is brilliant that he fight with fate and won. He sold me knowledge. A recipe. An enchantment."
Serion took a step closer, his voice lowering. "A wizard? You know their potions are illegal in the Empire."
"That is why I ask for your help. Not just your funds. Your silence."
Serion was silent.
"What does it do?"
"It restores sight, my lord. He showed me the boy. The light in his eyes, the joy... It was real. I believe it. And I want that for Lady Luna."
Varric's voice trembled. "She could laugh again. Walk freely. No one would pity her. No one would mock her. She would be full again. Whole."
Serion's defenses cracked.
That image—Luna, laughing, dancing in the courtyard as she once did when she was twelve—it seared through his mind.
"What do you want?" he asked, softer now.
"Time," Varric said. "Three days. I need to complete the refinement. And... 20,000 gold coins."
Serion blinked.
"That would buy a noble estate."
"But your fortune rivals the Empress's dowry," Varric said gently. "You can afford it."
Serion nodded once, slowly. "I will send a letter to my butler in the capital. The coin will be ready by then."
Varric bowed. "In three days, I shall bring the potion to Caelora. It will be hers."
Serion turned and walked away without another word.
Present
Luna read the message.
Her hands trembled, the paper crackling between her fingers.
"Your brother met the apothecary. The man promised a wizard's potion. He asked for three days and 20,000 gold. Your brother agreed."
She lowered the scroll slowly, her breath leaving her like a wounded sigh.
It was happening.
Three days.
No.
He was walking into the same trap.
The same mistake. The same guilt. The same devastating ending.
Her stomach twisted as she stood, walking stiffly to her writing desk. She pulled a piece of parchment, dipped her pen, and began to write.
"Velira,
I need your help.
My brother cannot see the danger. He believes he is saving me. We must intercept the apothecary. Investigate the wizard. Find the boy he spoke of. I need every detail. Every place he stopped. Every coin he touched.
And do as I told you this afternoon
And I won't let it take me.
—Luna."
She folded the letter, sealed it, and tied it to her pigeon's leg. She whispered something soft against its feathers before sending it off into the fading light.
And then—
The distant rumble of wheels on stone.
A carriage.
Serion.
She stood, hands clasped in front of her, composed. Calm.
She knew the look he would wear. Hope behind his eyes. Quiet desperation beneath his collar. The kind of hope that kills when it's betrayed.
She couldn't tell him yet.
Not without proof. Not without a weapon stronger than memory.
But soon.
She would face fate.
On her own terms.