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The night in the Blue Moon Kingdom was never truly dark, but a heavy, indigo silence had settled over the royal study. The air was thick with the scent of old parchment and the faint, metallic tang of lunar magic.
The King's Burden
King Dylan sat behind his heavy obsidian desk, his brow furrowed as he reviewed the welfare scrolls of the southern provinces. Leo stood by the window, his silhouette sharp against the shimmering horizon.
Suddenly, the King gasped. The quill dropped from his hand, clattering onto the stone floor as Dylan convulsed, his hand slamming against his chest.
"Father!" Leo was at his side in a heartbeat, his hands steadying the King's trembling shoulders. The prince's face was pale with a sudden, sharp panic.
Dylan took a ragged breath, forcing a weak, strained chuckle. "Don't... it's not serious, Leo. Help me sit back."
"Is it the old wound?" Leo asked, his voice thick with dread. He remembered the jagged scar his father had carried since the Great War, a mark of sacrifice. "The Silver Strike?"
Dylan nodded slowly, his face regainning a ghost of its color. "Yeah. It always gives a little pain when the moon is at its peak. Nothing serious, my son."
But Leo's mind was not at ease. Emily's voice echoed in the back of his head, cold and prophetic: 'Your father has to face a critical situation... it may harm his life.' "We must call the Royal Healer," Leo insisted, his grip on his father's arm tightening. "This is more than just an old ache."
"Don't fear," Dylan said, his voice regaining its kingly resonance as he patted Leo's hand. "Your father won't die that easily. I have survived demons and gods; a bit of chest pain won't take me down."
"Nothing will happen to you," Leo whispered, more to himself than to his father. "Not as long as I am standing."
Dylan smiled, a weary but proud expression. "Go now, Leo. Rest. We will discuss the kingdom's issues in the morning. Your father needs sleep, not a healer's bitter herbs."
Leo hesitated, his heart heavy with an instinctual urge to stay and watch over the man who was the pillar of his world. But seeing the insistence in Dylan's eyes, he bowed low and retreated.
As soon as the heavy oak doors clicked shut, the King's mask of strength shattered. He stood with a groan, unbuttoning his silk tunic. He turned toward the silver-framed mirror in the corner. His breath hitched. The silver birthmark across his chest was not just glowing—it was flickering like a dying flame. Beneath the skin, his nerves had turned a violent, pulsing blue, spreading across his torso like a web of lightning. He stared at his reflection, a grim shadow crossing his face, before quickly pulling his robes back over the corruption.
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A Mother's Intuition
The next morning, the palace was a hive of activity. Queen Irin stood on the grand balcony, her voice melodic but firm as she directed the servants in draping garlands of star-lilies across the marble balustrades.
"A bit higher to the left," she instructed, her hands moving gracefully.
Suddenly, two strong arms wrapped around her from behind. Irin didn't flinch; a warm, knowing smile spread across her face. "I know it's you, my dear Leo."
Leo stepped around to face her, a rare, boyish grin on his lips. "Why did you summon me so early, Mom? The sun hasn't even cleared the spires."
Irin leaned back against the railing, her eyes dancing with mockery. "Oh, is my son too busy now that he is a celebrated war hero? He has no time to spare for his poor mother?"
"Mom," Leo laughed, shaking his head. "If you call, I will come anytime. You are always first."
Irin's laughter was like wind chimes, but it faded into a look of sharp curiosity. "I heard a rumor," she said, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "They say you are spending quite a lot of time with a certain girl."
Leo's eyes widened. "What?"
"Emily," Irin said, her name lingering in the air. "The mortal girl you brought as a guest. The one who reads the cards."
Leo felt a strange heat rise to his neck. "You've been listening to palace gossip, Mom. We just... talked. Casually. She was telling fortunes."
Irin narrowed her eyes, a playful but piercing look. "Really? Just casual talk?"
"Yes! Don't you believe your own son?"
Irin reached out, placing a soft hand on Leo's cheek, her expression turning deeply sincere. "I believe you. But listen to me, Leo. I would never be against you if you fell in love with her. It doesn't matter to me whether she is Mortal or Immortal. The heart doesn't care for bloodlines, only for the soul it recognizes."
Leo looked at his mother, moved by her words, but he cleared his throat and looked away. "Truly, Mom, I'm not in love with anyone. Seriously."
"Fine, fine," Irin said, patting his shoulder with a wink. "If you say so. Now, since you're here and 'not in love,' be a good son and help me hang this garland of flowers over that arch. It's too high for the servants."
Leo nodded, reaching up with ease to hook the flowers into place. But even as he helped his mother, his mind drifted—half to the dark blue veins on his father's chest he sensed but hadn't seen, and half to the girl with the cards who seemed to see far too much.
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The Mark of the Fireflower
The morning sun in the BlueMoon Kingdom was not a golden ball of fire, but a gentle, iridescent glow that shimmered off the surface of the royal fountains. Jade and Emily sat by the edge of a wide, crystal-clear pond, the rhythmic splashing of the water providing a deceptive sense of peace.
Emily trailed her fingers through the cool water, her expression uncharacteristically grave. "Jade, I have to tell you something. Something Prince Leo told me."
Jade turned, her long hair draped over one shoulder like a curtain of silk. "What is it? You look like you've seen a ghost."
"Actually, it's about a place," Emily whispered, leaning in. "In this immortal realm, there exists a pond—the Truth Pond. They say if anyone stands before it, they can see their past. Not just childhood, but who they were before. A previous life."
Jade let out a soft, skeptical breath. "Really? But why would anyone want to dig up the past? If it were the future, I might be curious. But the past is gone, Emily. Why should I care who I was?"
Emily grabbed Jade's hand, her eyes urgent. "Think about it, Jade! Do you have any idea why all these powerful beings are chasing you? A Nine-Tailed Prince, a Demon Lord, even the Heaven Realm is whispering your name. A normal mortal doesn't cause a war between kingdoms."
Jade's gaze drifted to her reflection in the water. For a moment, she saw the realization flicker in her own eyes. "I... I don't know."
"Exactly," Emily pressed. "There is something massive behind this. If we find out the truth at the pond, we can solve it. We can stop being prey."
Jade shook her head, her voice trembling. "My only focus right now is leaving the BlueMoon Kingdom. I have to go back to the human world."
"Why so suddenly?"
"Because Justin found me, Emily. He was in my room last night," Jade confessed, her voice dropping to a terrified whisper. "He is too powerful. I don't want to bring his destruction down on this palace. They've been kind to us; I won't be the reason this kingdom falls."
Emily gasped, her face turning pale. "He's here? Oh no... but Jade, we are in the clouds! We're thousands of feet above the ground. If we jump, we'll die."
Jade whispered, "We have to find another way."
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The Predator in the Mirror
Later that evening, Jade sat in her room, the silence of the palace weighing heavily on her. She picked up a silver comb, rhythmically pulling it through her long hair, trying to soothe the frantic beating of her heart.
Suddenly, an invisible force—as heavy as iron but as smooth as silk—forced her shoulders down. She was pushed firmly back into the chair at her dressing table. Before she could scream, the air shimmered, and Justin appeared.
Jade gasped, her eyes widening in the mirror. She wasn't just in her chair; she was sitting in his lap, his strong arms caging her in.
"You... you always freak me out!" she hissed, trying to scramble away.
Justin didn't move. He placed a cool finger against her lips, a gesture that was both a command and a caress. "Shhh," he murmured, his golden eyes fixed on her reflection.
He reached into his robes and pulled out the Red Stone necklace he had taken from her. With agonizing slowness, he leaned forward, his breath warm against her neck as he draped the chain around her.
"I can do it myself," Jade whispered, her body stiffening.
Justin's grip on her shoulder tightened just enough to pin her. "If you move a single inch," he whispered, his face hovering dangerously close to her lips, "I will find a much more distracting way to keep you still."
Jade froze, her heart thundering. As he adjusted the clasp, his eyes caught something on her shoulder—a blemish on her ivory skin. He pulled the collar of her hanfu down slightly, exposing a fireflower mark that seemed to pulse with a faint, hidden heat.
"What is this?" Justin's voice lost its playfulness, replaced by a sharp, clinical intensity.
Jade gripped her clothes, terrified. "What are you doing? Let go!"
"Tell me," he commanded, leaning so close their foreheads touched. "What is this mark?"
"It's just... my birthmark," Jade breathed, bending back to escape his gaze.
Justin snapped the necklace shut. The moment the red stone touched her skin, a ripple of magic washed over her. Justin watched, his breath catching in his throat. To his eyes, the fireflower tattoo vanished instantly, leaving nothing but smooth skin.
So, he thought, his mind racing. The Shaman was right. This necklace isn't just a trinket; it's a seal. It hides her true identity... the mark of a High Demon.
"Your tattoo," Justin whispered. "It's gone."
Jade looked into the mirror, frantically checking her shoulder. "What are you talking about? It's still right there. I can see it."
Justin realized the illusion was perfect; she saw herself as she always had, but to the rest of the world, her secrets were now buried under the red stone. He pulled her closer into his lap, his head dipping to her ear.
"Don't remove this chain, Jade," he whispered with a raw, sudden concern that startled her. "Never take it off."
"Why should I? My father gave it to me," Jade said, her confusion mounting.
She managed to stand up and turned to face him, but the space was empty. He had disappeared. "Always... always leaving like a ghost," she muttered.
She turned back to the mirror, but stopped dead. He was standing right in front of her again. "I forgot one thing," he said.
Before she could react, he stepped into her space and leaned down, placing a gentle, lingering kiss on her forehead. Jade's eyes went wide, her brain short-circuiting at the tenderness of the gesture.
Justin pulled back, a smirk returning to his lips. "Don't forget, Jade. Only one day left for you to say yes. After that, I stop asking."
He vanished for good this time, leaving the room smelling of cedar and storm clouds. Jade pressed her hand to her forehead, her skin feeling as though it were on fire. "He's insane," she whispered, but her heart wouldn't stop racing. "Why do I feel so hot?"
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To be Continued.....
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