I couldn't sleep.
Though my body was exhausted, my mind ran wild—through every word in my mother's book, every glance from Lucan, and most of all—the violet light that had burst from my hand.
It wasn't a dream. It wasn't a hallucination.
I rose before dawn, the sky over Lycanthra still drowned in black. My steps took me through the halls with no destination—just a pull. Something invisible is guiding me.
That's when I found it—a narrow corridor, on the eastern wing of the castle, untouched by footsteps. Vines crept along the stone walls, and the air was thick with age. But what stopped me wasn't the silence.
It was the symbol.
Etched into the end wall stood a carving identical to the one I'd seen in my mother's book. A crescent moon… with a drop of blood in the center.
I stepped closer. My heartbeat quickened. I reached out to touch it.
And the stone shifted.
A hidden doorway opened, revealing a narrow stairway that descended deep beneath the castle. The scent of old dust and forgotten earth filled my lungs.
I hesitated—but only for a moment.
Then I stepped inside.
The corridor was dark, lit faintly by a slit window high above. But strangely, I wasn't afraid. Something in me recognized this place.
At the end of the corridor was a circular chamber. At its center stood a stone altar, surrounded by dead candles. And before the altar—a tall mirror, shaped like a gate.
I moved toward it. The mirror didn't reflect me.
But the moment my fingers touched its surface, whispers began to echo around me. Voices. Not in any language I knew—yet they felt… known.
"Daughter of the last blood…
Your inheritance has called…"
I stumbled back. But the mirror shifted. On its surface, I saw a face.
My mother's.
She smiled softly—then her gaze hardened. Behind her, wolves ran beneath a blood-red moon.
"Who are you, really…?" I whispered.
And just then, the stone door slammed shut behind me. The sound echoed like thunder.
I was trapped.
Elsewhere, Lucan stood on the castle's highest balcony, eyes scanning the forest. The air felt off. The wind carried a scent...
Elara.
But something was wrong.
Her scent was laced with… ancient magic.
"No…" he whispered. "She's found the Legacy Chamber."
He turned and ran, cloak whipping behind him. He knew—if she activated the gate too soon, her power could…
Explode.
And if that happened, there would be no going back.
I stood in the center of the chamber, trapped. The stone door behind me had sealed shut, leaving no way out. No latch. No handle. Just me… and the mirror.
The mirror didn't reflect my face.
My hands still trembled. The air in the room was strange—cold, but not from wind. It felt alive. Like the room itself was watching me.
I stepped closer to the mirror's surface, swallowing the knot in my throat. My mother's image still lingered—only now, she wasn't simply watching. She stood beneath a blood-red sky, surrounded by fields of black flowers.
Then… she spoke.
Not with her lips. The voice rang inside my mind, soft and commanding.
"Elara…
Your blood is not a curse.
It is a key."
I flinched. "Mother?"
Her reflection nodded. Her face looked younger, yet her eyes carried an old sorrow. She wore a dark blue cloak, and behind her, two shadowy wolves stood—one white, one black.
"I hid you from this world. From them. Because the fate that clings to your blood could burn this realm… or save it."
"You are the union of human and First Blood. The blood of the forgotten Luna."
Tears welled in my eyes, falling before I could stop them. I didn't even understand why. Maybe it was because I'd never truly had her—only memories too faint to hold.
"Why did you leave me?" I whispered.
Her reflection softened. Gentle, but resolute.
"To protect you. Because this world… is cruel to women like me. I had to choose: die with you, or live and buy you time."
I sank to my knees, breath ragged.
"It's all too much," I said. "I don't know who I am. I don't want to be a key to anything. I just want to live… as myself."
"You can. But first, you must see the truth."
The mirror rippled. Then—light engulfed me.
***
I found myself standing in a field. Endless black blossoms stretched across the hills. The wind pulled at my hair. In the distance, a white stone city burned.
And I saw her.
My mother. Running.
Behind her, monsters chased—not men, not wolves. Shadows with jagged limbs and burning eyes.
I followed her like a ghost, invisible and silent.
She reached a stone altar. Unrolled an old scroll. Her voice was steady as she recited words I didn't recognize. A violet circle of light formed around her.
"I bind my blood.
I erase my trace.
For my child. For the future."
And in that moment, I knew—I was witnessing the sacrifice that erased her from the world I now stood in.
***
I jolted back into the chamber, landing hard on the stone floor. My breath was erratic. My chest heaved.
But this time… I wasn't shaking from fear.
I was shaking from something else.
Understanding.
The blood in my veins wasn't my enemy. It was hers. It was true. And I couldn't keep running from it.
Slowly, I stood. The mirror had gone dark again. But I had seen enough.
I touched the crescent moon symbol carved into the stone floor. For the first time since arriving in Lycanthra, I didn't feel like an intruder.
I felt like I belonged.
***
Above, Lucan reached the sealed corridor. He pressed his hand against the stone that bore the blood-and-moon sigil, but the passage refused to open.
"No…" he muttered. "She's gone too far."
He knelt, placing his palm on the ground. Words in the old tongue slipped from his lips. The symbol glowed faintly.
Lucan's eyes narrowed as he peered into the dark.
"Elara," he whispered. "Don't go too deep… not yet."