*Liora's POV*
The moon never sleeps.
It hangs above us like a watchful guardian—or a jailer, depending on who you ask. Always full, always silver, always staring. People say it is a curse, punishment for the betrayal of our ancestors. Me? I think it's just nosy.
I tilted my head back, a carrot dangling from my muddy fingers, and squinted up at it. "You could at least give me some sun for my garden," I told the sky. "Do you know how embarrassing it is to grow carrots that look like… shriveled toes?"
I held up the pitiful thing as though the moon might feel guilty about it. It didn't, of course. It just stared.
With a sigh, I tossed the carrot into my basket and bent over the soil again. My skirts were already stained with dirt, and strands of my hair—pitch black and wavy, of course, like the rest of my family—had slipped free of my braid to tickle my cheeks. Gardening in the eternal night was not glamorous.
I hummed softly to myself as I reached for the next row, but my boot caught on a root. My balance tilted forward in the most ungraceful way imaginable. "Ah—!"
The world spun, and before I could catch myself, I landed bottom-first in the cabbages with a *whump*. A leafy stalk slapped across my face.
For a long moment, I just lay there, staring up at the glowing sky, wondering if the moon laughed at people.
"…Graceful," I muttered, peeling a cabbage leaf from my cheek. "Truly, I was born to be a legend."
I wriggled free of the cabbages and dusted off my skirts, though the soil clung stubbornly to the fabric. My grandmother would have scolded me for being careless, but then, she scolded me for everything. Talk too loud—scolded. Laugh at the wrong time—scolded. Fall into vegetables? She would've sighed so deeply the windows might rattle.
I missed her, though. Even her sighs.
The wind rustled through the trees of Greymist Forest just beyond the fence, breaking the quiet of the night. My little cottage sat on the edge of the village, tucked so far away that most people forgot it existed. I liked it that way. Quiet meant safe. Quiet meant no one asked questions about me.
But tonight, the quiet was broken again.
This time, it wasn't just wind.
A low crunch. A snap of a branch. Then another.
My head snapped up, heart thudding faster than it should have. The lantern on the porch flickered weakly, its golden glow barely pushing against the thick dark of the forest.
"Rabbit?" I whispered, though I knew better. Rabbits don't sound like that. Rabbits don't groan.
Another sound reached me, soft but unmistakable: a pained grunt.
I froze. Logic screamed in my head: *Go inside. Bolt the door. Pretend you heard nothing.* But my feet… they never listen. My heart's too soft for its own good.
So, clumsy fool that I am, I grabbed the lantern, nearly tipping it in my rush. "Steady, steady," I muttered, holding it close as I crept toward the tree line. The night air was colder here, heavy with mist that curled low along the ground. Every shadow seemed to shift when I looked too long.
That's when I saw him.
A man.
At first glance, he looked like nothing but another piece of darkness slumped against a tree. But then the lantern light caught him, and the details came sharp. His cloak was torn, his armor cracked and streaked with blood. His head hung low, strands of dark hair falling over his face.
My breath caught. Whoever he was, he was dangerous. That much I could feel, like heat radiating from a fire.
I should have turned back. I should have left him there.
But instead, I stepped closer.
The lantern's glow stretched across his face just as he lifted his head. And then I saw them—his eyes.
Not brown. Not blue. Not any color human eyes should be.
Violet. Bright, sharp, and faintly glowing, as though the moon had poured its light into them.
I gasped so hard I squeaked—and immediately dropped the lantern.
It clattered against a stone, light sputtering wildly. "Oh no, no, no!" I hissed, fumbling with both hands as I tried to catch it. In my panic, I nearly smacked myself in the knee with it before finally snatching it up again. The flame steadied. My heart didn't.
When I dared to look up, those eyes were fixed on me.
Cold. Piercing. Like they could strip me bare and weigh every secret I had ever kept.
I froze, the lantern shaking in my hand. He didn't move, but somehow, I felt hunted.
"…Um," I managed, voice small, my brain offering nothing useful. "Are you… lost?"