The night was painted in shades of quiet silver, and the full moon hung low over the horizon like a watchful eye. A cool breeze slipped through the cracks of the ancient walls, fluttering the thin drapes inside Elira's room. She sat at the edge of her window, knees pulled to her chest, her eyes trained on the soft glow of the garden lanterns below.
She should have felt safe here in the palace—the heart of Eldralore—but peace had become an illusion. Every whisper in the hallway, every sideways glance, and every suspicious silence weighed down on her like invisible chains.
Suddenly, a rustle.
Elira spun around, her fingers already reaching for the dagger hidden under her pillow.
A figure emerged from the shadows beside her wardrobe, tall and cloaked.
But before she could react, the cloak was lowered, and a familiar voice said softly, "It's me."
Kael.
Her heart skipped a beat. "Gods, you nearly scared me to death," she whispered, trying not to sound too relieved.
Kael's eyes were darker than usual tonight. He closed the door behind him with the quiet care of a thief, then stepped into the moonlight. "We don't have much time. They're moving sooner than we thought."
Elira rose slowly. "Who?"
He paused, scanning her face. "The Order of the Crimson Veil."
She felt the blood drain from her cheeks. "But they were exiled decades ago. My father—"
"They've never stopped watching. And now that the balance of the Realms is shifting…" Kael moved closer. "They see your Ascension as a threat."
She swallowed hard. "You said we had more time."
"I was wrong."
The silence between them buzzed with tension. Elira could feel it—the sharp edge of something about to unravel. She turned her back to him and stared out the window again. "So what now?"
Kael hesitated before saying, "You leave tonight."
She froze. "Leave?"
He nodded. "Through the southern passage. There's a guide waiting near the lake. She'll take you to Serathen. You'll be safe there, for a while."
Elira turned back to him. "And what about you?"
Kael's expression twisted with something unreadable. "I'll cover your trail. Make sure they don't follow."
"You think I'll let you do this alone?" she snapped, her voice rising.
"You have to," he said firmly. "If they capture you—if they use you to awaken the mirror gate—this realm will fall."
Elira's breath caught.
The mirror gate.
The very name felt like a curse, a legend whispered to children to keep them from wandering into the woods at night. It was said to be the ancient doorway between worlds—sealed by the gods themselves, and buried under mountain and flame.
But the Crimson Veil wanted it open.
And she, as the bearer of the Moonmark, was the key.
Kael walked over and reached for her hand. His touch was grounding, rough but warm. "Elira, I swore to protect you—not just from blades and spells, but from becoming something you're not ready to face."
She shook her head. "I never asked for this."
"I know," he said. "But fate doesn't care what we ask for."
For a moment, all she could hear was the rhythm of her own breathing.
The choice before her wasn't just about safety. It was about destiny. Power. The looming war that neither kingdom nor magic could stop once it began.
She looked at Kael again.
"Will you come after me?"
"If you call," he said softly. "I'll find you, no matter where you are."
Elira didn't trust her voice, so she just nodded.
Kael squeezed her hand once before stepping back. "Pack only what you need. We leave in ten minutes."
As he turned to vanish back into the corridor, she caught a flash of pain in his eyes—a fear deeper than battle or betrayal.
Because this wasn't just a mission.
This was goodbye.
Ten minutes later, cloaked in a traveling robe and with only a small satchel over her shoulder, Elira slipped through the eastern balcony and descended a hidden staircase that led to the palace garden. Moonflowers bloomed in silence as she passed, their petals glowing faintly under the starlight.
Kael was already there, standing near the statue of the first moon priestess. His sword was strapped across his back, his stance tense.
"Ready?" he asked without turning.
"No," she said honestly. "But let's go."
They moved like shadows through the palace grounds. Past the sleeping stables, through the old orchard, and down a moss-covered path that no one had walked in decades.
The southern passage revealed itself behind a crumbling shrine—its stone doors etched with symbols that pulsed faintly as Elira approached. When her hand brushed them, they lit with a soft silver glow, and the doors groaned open.
Kael looked back at her. "From here on, you're on your own."
She stepped through, then paused and turned.
"Kael."
He raised an eyebrow.
"I know this isn't fair. And I don't know how long this road will be. But I…" She stopped, words failing her for once.
Kael stepped closer, brushing a lock of hair from her face. "Don't say it."
"Why not?"
"Because if you do, I won't be able to let you go."
Elira blinked against the tears. "Then promise me one thing."
"Anything."
"When this is over… when the war is done… find me under the same moon."
He smiled, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "It's a promise."
Then the doors shut between them.
And Elira, Moonmarked and hunted, stepped into the wild unknown—her heart heavy, her path uncertain, but her resolve sharper than ever before.