Six winters had passed since the day of fire and shattering stone. The Massacre which took place Six years ago , shocking the entire world ,now completely forgotten.
Only
Victims remember
Six winters since Luna's first awakening into this world had been marked by an explosion and the faint cries of a boy who even now haunted her memory.
She was fifteen now. The childish softness had left her face, replaced by sharper lines and the quiet poise of one who had lived two lives. Her body moved with grace born not of nobility but of discipline, every step silent, her balance perfect, her hands as quick as a hawk's strike. Isabella had raised her to be a lady; her assassin's instincts had shaped her into a weapon.
The Velmora states, however, were not the same as they had been six years ago.
Once, they had basked under the false spring of the Nebula Pendant — a relic whose magic shielded the land from cruel winters. But now that power waned, faltering like a candle running out of wax. The air grew colder each year, snow clung longer to the roads, and hunger gnawed deeper at the bellies of common folk.
Yet the Duke's coffers never emptied. Gold flowed into his banquet halls, wine spilled in torrents, and musicians played beneath jeweled chandeliers while outside, children froze in the alleys.
It was to this land, under a gray sky and falling snow, that Luna returned — disguised not as a noble's ward, but as a nameless traveler with a hood low over her face and boots that crunched through frost.
The road wound past a field where shepherds herded weary sheep back to their pens. Their breath came in clouds, the animals' wool already clotted with ice. A boy, no older than eight, stumbled after them with a stick in his hand, his fingers purple from the cold.
Luna's gaze softened briefly. They'll lose half the flock this winter, she thought. And the Duke will raise taxes to cover it. Always the same cycle.
She moved on, though her eyes lingered longer than she would admit.
In the village square, she saw an old woman crouched in the snow, clutching two children close. Their teeth chattered violently as they tried to hide within their grandmother's threadbare shawl.
"Shhh, little ones, just a bit longer," the woman whispered, her lips blue. "The fire will be ready soon, I promise…"
But Luna could see there was no firewood stacked nearby. Only lies spoken out of love.
A muscle in her jaw twitched. If the pendant weakens further, even lies won't be enough to keep them alive.
Her assassin's mind noted everything—the way poverty warped people's backs, the way hunger left them hollow-eyed, the way injustice festered like rot in the snow.
And all of it traced back to Velmora's heart.
The deeper she walked, the more her disguise blended in. The streets narrowed into crooked alleys, where smoke from cheap fires stung the air. Here she saw the darker side: men leaning against walls with knives on their belts, women selling more than bread to get through the winter, shadows trading coin for silence.
That was when she heard the scuffle.
A boy's strangled cry cut through the muffled snowfall. Luna turned her head.
In a narrow alley, three figures loomed over a child of perhaps Thirteen. The tallest brute had his hand clamped around the boy's throat, pinning him to a wall. The boy kicked and clawed, his eyes wide with panic.
And then he saw Luna.
Their eyes met.
Help me, his gaze screamed. Why won't you help me?
Luna's hand tightened on the folded letter she carried — the letter meant for Ivan Velmora.
Her pulse quickened. No. I mustn't. If I act too boldly, the story shifts. Everything changes.
But the boy's lips were turning blue. The sound of choking echoed like thunder in her ears.
"Damn it," she hissed under her breath.
Her fingers darted down, plucking a jagged stone from the snow. She weighed it once in her palm assassin's calculation then flicked her wrist.
The rubble flew swift and true, striking the brute on the temple. He collapsed like a felled ox, his companions scattering in alarm.
The boy gasped for air, falling to his knees. When he looked up again, the alley was empty.
Luna was already gone, her cloak swallowed by the snowfall.
Six months later.
Her life had been buried again under Isabella's endless etiquette lessons. Curtsies, smiles, the art of polite cruelty. How to sit, how to speak, how to wear the mask of nobility without ever letting it slip.
She thinks that her manipulation tricks will work on me ....
But today, none of that mattered.
Today, she was waiting for an answer.
As she slipped through the town post office, her hood once again pulled low, her heart beat with an anticipation she hated herself for feeling.
At the counter, the clerk handed her a sealed envelope stamped with Velmora's crest.
She took it without a word and left.
Climbing the snow-covered hill to her secret refuge a lone tree overlooking the frozen valley she settled with her back against its trunk. The letter lay heavy in her hands.
Her breath fogged the air as she broke the seal.
The words were brief, cold, and sharper than any dagger.
> "I do not see why you chose to write to me.
Your existence does not concern me.
Isabella may have taken you under her roof, but you will never be my family...
It's good to have you in the family, but do not expect much from me ...
Favourably , I will remain in the University thanks to someone
I advise you to remain in your place.
— "didnt even bothered to write his name
"…I see." Her whisper was carried away by the wind.
The wind started curling up around her , "hmm....Zera , ...I'm not upset "
Zera playfully curling up around Luna , it somehow brightned her mood ....
The snow gathered on the parchment, seeping into its fibers. She could almost imagine Ivan at the academy, surrounded by noble sons, tossing her letter aside with a sneer.
She crushed the letter in her fist until the paper tore.
"Displeasure… ignorance…" She forced a laugh, brittle as ice. "You truly don't want me near, do you?"
I did anticipated that ...
She stood and looked towards the vast sky
Which was slowly changing as if it was the silence before the storm ....