Chapter 16: Chapter 14: The Ocean in Her Dreams

Luna lay in her cot, the cottage dark except for the faint glow of her pendant, pulsing softly against her chest. Sleep wouldn’t come easy tonight. The cut rope at the stream still gnawed at her, and the hooded man’s glinting eyes lingered like a bad taste. She turned, the straw mattress creaking, and tried to focus on the wind rattling the shutters. But when her eyes finally drifted shut, the world shifted.

She stood on a shore, but the ocean before her was wrong—black and thick, like ink, rolling backward into the sky. The waves didn’t crash; they sucked inward, pulling at her bare feet. Her pendant burned against her skin, hotter than ever, and a voice—her father’s, cold and sharp—cut through the air. “Break the seal, Luna. Let it free.”

She stumbled back, heart pounding, but the sand clung to her, heavy and cold. A shadow loomed over the ocean, a figure with piercing eyes, holding a crown that dripped black.

“You can’t run,” he said, his voice slithering into her bones. “You’re mine.”

Luna jolted awake, gasping, her hands clutching the pendant. It was hot, almost searing, and its glow cast faint shadows on the cottage walls. Her heart raced as she sat up, the dream’s weight pressing on her. Break the seal.

What did it mean? And why did her father’s voice feel so real, like he was right there?

She swung her feet to the floor, the cool wood grounding her. Moonlight spilled through the window, but the air felt heavy, like the stillness before a storm. She glanced at Zeph, asleep on a blanket by the hearth, his dagger close to his hand. His steady breathing calmed her a little, but not enough.

Quietly, she slipped outside, needing air. The night was crisp, the stars sharp above Velmora. She touched the pendant again, its heat fading but leaving a faint tingle. It knows something, she thought, just like at the stream. Keolora’s voice echoed in her mind: The truth is in you. But what truth? That she was the Moon’s Vessel, destined to destroy everything? Or something else?

A soft creak snapped her out of her thoughts. Her eyes darted to the cottage door. Nothing. Just the wind, maybe. But her pendant pulsed, a quick, sharp warning. She froze, scanning the shadows. Then she saw it—a faint glow on the door, low near the ground. A symbol, carved into the wood, pulsing with a sickly purple light.

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A cult sigil, just like the one in the ruin.

Her breath caught. She backed up, her bare feet crunching on the grass.

“Zeph!” she hissed, loud enough to wake him but not to carry far. Inside, she heard him stir, then the quick scuffle of boots.

He was at the door in seconds, dagger in hand, his hair a mess. “What’s wrong?” His eyes followed hers to the sigil, and his face hardened. “Damn it. They’re bold, marking your door like that.”

Luna’s hands shook as she touched the pendant, its glow dimming but still alive. “It warned me. It got hot, like in the dream.” She swallowed, her voice low. “Zeph, I saw him again. My father.

In a dream. He said… ‘break the seal.’ And there was this black ocean, pulling me in.”

Zeph crouched by the door, studying the sigil without touching it. “That’s no coincidence. The cult’s moving faster, and your dreams… they’re tied to this.”

He stood, his hazel eyes meeting hers, steady but serious. “My sect used to talk about dreams like that. Visions from the void. Whatever your father’s mixed up in, it’s not just him. It’s bigger.”

Luna’s stomach twisted. “The void? You mean… the thing Keolora warned about? The thing that’s messing with the realms?”

Zeph nodded, his jaw tight. “Yeah. My sect—they fought it, or tried to. They said the void speaks through dreams, through people. If your father’s talking to you like that…” He trailed off, his hand gripping the dagger harder. “We need to get to that ruin. Now. Tonight. Before they come back.”

Luna hesitated, glancing at the sigil. It was still glowing, faint but menacing, like it was watching her. The dream’s black ocean flashed in her mind, her father’s voice echoing. You’re mine.

She shook her head, pushing it down.

“Okay. But if the cult’s this close, they’ll be watching the ruin too.”

Zeph’s grin flickered, sharp and reckless. “Good. Let them try something. I’m itching to give them a taste of this.” He twirled his dagger, but his eyes stayed on her, softer now.

“You good, Moonborn? That dream sounded rough.”

She managed a small smile, her fingers brushing the pendant. “I’m okay. Just… scared. What if he’s right? What if I’m not ready?”

Zeph stepped closer, his voice low.

“You’re tougher than you think, Luna. You pulled that water back at the stream, saved that field. You’re not some pawn in his game. And you’ve got me.” He bumped her shoulder, his grin back. “Poor cult doesn’t know what’s coming.”

Luna laughed, shaky but real, his warmth cutting through her fear. “Fine. Let’s go. But if we run into that hooded guy, you’re taking him.”

“Deal,” Zeph said, already moving toward the path to the Whispering Hills. “Grab your shoes. Or… you know, don’t. Barefoot Moonborn’s got a vibe.”

She rolled her eyes but followed, her pendant still tingling against her skin.

The sigil on the door glowed faintly as they left, a reminder that the cult was closing in. Her father’s voice lingered in her mind, but so did Zeph’s. You’re tougher than you think. She held onto that as they slipped into the night, the ruin waiting—and with it, maybe answers to the truth she was starting to dread.

To be continued…