Chapter 20: Chapter 18: Fire at the Edge

Luna sat by the hearth in her cottage, the silver shawl fragment clutched in her hands, its soft texture a painful reminder of Mira. The storm had faded, but Velmora felt like a trap closing around her. Mira’s letter and the shrine’s void symbols burned in her mind, each clue pointing to a truth she wasn’t ready to face. Her pendant glowed faintly, its warmth a quiet comfort against the growing dread.

Zeph sprawled on the floor nearby, sharpening his dagger, his hazel eyes flicking to her every few seconds.

“You’re brooding again,” he said, his voice light but edged with worry. “That shawl’s not gonna tell you anything new just by staring at it.”

Luna managed a weak smile. “I know. It’s just… she was fighting them, Zeph.

The cult. And I’m sitting here, doing nothing.” Her fingers tightened around the fabric. “We need to leave for the Water Realm. Soon.”

Zeph nodded, setting his dagger down.

“Agreed. But we need a plan. The cult’s got eyes everywhere, and after that storm, the villagers are one bad day from pitchforks.” He leaned forward, his grin flickering. “We’ll slip out at dawn. Less chance of running into trouble.”

But trouble didn’t wait. A sharp crack split the air, followed by the acrid smell of smoke. Luna’s pendant flared, hot and urgent, and she jumped to her feet. “Zeph, do you smell that?”

He was already at the window, his face grim. “Fire. Close.” He threw open the door, revealing a glow in the distance—flames licking at the herb garden near the cottage, spreading fast toward the wooden walls. The night air carried a faint purple shimmer, like the void symbols in the shrine. “This isn’t natural,” Zeph growled. “Cult.”

Luna’s heart raced, her water mark tingling as Keolora’s voice whispered:

Act, Moonborn. She ran outside, bare feet sinking into the damp earth, and raised her hands. The stream behind the cottage was her only chance. She focused, her emotions a tangle of fear and anger, and called to the water. It surged upward, a shimmering wave that arced over the garden and crashed onto the flames. Steam hissed, but the fire fought back, its purple-tinged edges resisting the water.

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“It’s void-touched!” Zeph shouted, his dagger ready as he scanned the shadows. “They’re here, Luna!”

Her pendant burned hotter, and a sharp pain shot through her chest. She stumbled, clutching it, and saw a flicker in the trees—a cloaked figure, their sigil-covered sleeve glowing faintly. A blade glinted in their hand, aimed at her. Time slowed, her wind mark flaring alongside the pendant’s glow. A gust erupted around her, unbidden, knocking the figure back into the darkness. The blade clattered to the ground, its edge etched with a void symbol.

Luna gasped, the water still flowing from her hands, dousing the last of the fire. The garden was scorched, the cottage’s wall blackened but standing.

Her pendant’s glow dimmed, but its heat lingered, as if it had deflected the attack itself.

Zeph was at her side, his hand on her arm. “You okay? That was too close.” His eyes darted to the trees, but the figure was gone. He picked up the dropped blade, studying its runes.

“This is cult work. They’re not just scaring you now—they want you dead.”

Luna’s legs shook, but she forced herself to stand tall. “They’re trying to stop me from leaving. From finding out what Mira knew.” Her voice hardened, the shawl fragment still in her pocket.

“They’re scared of what I’ll become.”

Zeph’s grin returned, sharp and defiant. “Good. Let’s give them something to really worry about.” He tossed the blade into the mud, his eyes serious.

“We leave tonight. The Water Realm’s our best shot—Keolora’s there, and Mira’s letter pointed us that way.”

Luna nodded, her resolve solidifying despite the fear. The pendant’s glow, the void-touched fire, the cult’s blade—it all pointed to her father, to the void, to a truth she had to face. “I’m ready,” she said, her voice steady. “But the villagers… they’ll think I started this fire too.”

Zeph shrugged, his grin widening. “Let them. By the time they figure it out, we’ll be long gone, chasing answers.”

He bumped her shoulder, his warmth cutting through the night’s chill. “You’re not alone, Moonborn. You’ve got me, a creepy pendant, and two Elemental marks. Not bad for a night’s work.”

Luna laughed, shaky but real, the sound grounding her. She tucked the shawl fragment deeper into her pocket, next to Mira’s letter. The cult was closing in, but so was she—closer to the truth, to her mother’s fight, to her own destiny. “Together,” she said, meeting Zeph’s eyes.

“Always,” he replied, his voice firm.

They grabbed what little they needed—Luna’s herbs, Zeph’s pack, his dagger—and slipped into the night, the smoldering garden behind them. The Water Realm waited, and with it, the next piece of Mira’s puzzle. But the cult’s shadow followed, and Luna’s pendant pulsed, a quiet warning of the danger ahead.

To be continued…