*Chapter Four* of *MOONLIT SHADOW (Love is for the Brave)
*Chapter Four: The Lantern's Glow*
Moonlight filtered through the broken windows of the temple's east wing, casting pale beams over dust‑laden floor tiles. Mark's breath came in shallow whispers, his eyes flicking over every statue, every carving, every shadowed corner. The air was cold, damp, as though the very walls exhaled an ancient sorrow.
Jun moved ahead of him with quiet steps, his senses attuned to forces unseen. Behind them, Tawin and Lek followed in a careful formation, weapons ready, hearts on edge. After the conflict in the Hall of Ancients, none of them were certain what to expect next.
The corridors were narrow, lined with faded murals depicting legendary spirits, monks, and battles between light and dark. A chill ran along Mark's spine as he passed a mural of a guardian spirit bowing before a seated king. The guardian's eyes seemed to follow him.
Jun paused at a darkened alcove, leaning forward. "There's something here," he murmured.
Mark crouched beside him. "What do you sense?"
Jun's voice was soft but urgent: "A tethered soul — bound to this temple. It's weak now, but its pulse… it's unsteady."
Jun stepped closer, voice gentle: "You are safe now. Speak to us, guardian of this wing."
The spirit's voice came like wind through reeds, barely audible: "I… protect… the seal. Beware… the shadow's return… its hunger deepens."
Mark swallowed. "Who is the shadow? What is its hunger?"
The spirit's face flickered. "The ancient one… broken promise… lost moonlight… it seeks to piece together what was lost… and in doing so, consume what binds the veil."
A tremor shook the floor beneath them. Stones cracked in distant rooms. Dust rained down.
Lek grimaced. "We're running out of time."
Tawin took a step into the alcove, gaze fixed on the spirit. "Tell us what seals remain."
The spirit's image hovered. "Four seals. Two lie beneath the temple's foundation, deep in crypts. One in the courtyard, where moonlight first touched stone. The final seal… rests in the heart of the city… where shadows dance with flame."
Jun exchanged a stare with Mark — the city, the markets, the old streets: somewhere they walked. That seal might already be under threat.
The spirit's form flickered, growing faint. "You must act… before the shadow… consumes hope." With those last words, it dissipated, leaving behind only the echoing hum.
Silence hung heavy.
Mark and Lek moved swiftly, each step echoing in the hush. Lek's dagger glinted, and Mark's talisman burned softly in his hand.
"You sure this is where it lies?" Lek muttered.
Mark nodded. "Yes. The ley lines intersect here. The moon's arrival weakens the barrier." He knelt by the pond's edge and ran fingers over the cracked base of a lotus sculpture. Symbols carved into the stone glowed faintly.
Lek crouched beside him. "Help me lift this slab."
Together, they heaved an ancient stone cover. Beneath, spiral stairs dropped into darkness.
"I'll go down first," Mark said, voice tight.
"Wait!" Lek held out a hand. "Let me light the lantern."
He produced a brass lantern, etched with runes, flaring with pale blue flame. He held it aloft.
Mark descended, Lek close behind, lantern lighting the path. The air grew colder, damp with subterranean breath.
Down, down, until they reached a vast chamber lined with pillars. At its center, an altar of stone held the third seal: a lotus-shaped emblem carved from moonstone, cracked and dim.
Mark approached, fingertips trembling. He chanted an incantation taught by elder spirit hunters. Energy humming, he placed his talisman onto the emblem. The moonstone glowed — faintly at first, then stronger.
Mark's fingers brushed the locket at his neck, a talisman he'd worn since his days as a novice spirit hunter. He felt its resonance synchronizing with Jun's aura. They had come to rely on each other's strength.
From the shadows behind, Tawin's voice was hushed but firm: "We should stay close. The wards in this wing are fragile."
Lek answered before Jun could respond: "Fragile or not, I'm not letting anything sneak past me again." He adjusted his stance, eyes scanning.
Jun stepped forward into the alcove's faint glow. He extended his hand toward a carved relief of a kneeling monk holding out a bowl. The image felt alive — as though the monk's lips might move, his eyes might speak.
"As you wish," Jun whispered, drawing in air, "let your voice echo in the silence. May the bonds of fear be loosened."
Mark pressed close behind him. The air seemed to pulse, tremble. A soft hum rose from the floor.
The carved monk's bowl glittered. Pale, silvery light seeped from its edges, illuminating the alcove. A figure emerged — faint, spectral, translucent: a monk in robes, eyes closed, head bowed, hands outstretched in supplication.
The spectral monk swayed, drifting above its own carving, as though released from centuries of silence.
Mark exhaled. "We can't wait. We have to find those seals."
Tawin nodded. "I know where crypt entrances lie. I'll lead you. But we must split — cover more ground."
Mark looked at Jun, then at Tawin, then at Lek, weighing risk. "Who goes where?"
Jun's eyes lit with resolve. "Tawin, you lead me underground to the crypts. Mark and Lek can search the courtyard and city. I'll call you if danger comes."
Lek protested: "That sounds like splitting our strength."
Mark shook his head. "We'll stay linked. If Jun's path falters, I'll come running."
Tawin placed a steady hand on Jun's shoulder. "Then we'll go together."
Mark bowed his head. "Fine. But stay alert. The shadow's touch is clever."
They parted at the temple's threshold. Mark and Lek surged forward, hearts pounding, stepping into the courtyard, while Jun and Tawin slipped into a narrow, downward stairwell hidden behind tapestry.
The courtyard was open, moonlight spilling over cracked stone tiles and broken urns. Statues of guardian lions stood sentinel, their surfaces worn but proud. The seal here — the third one — was rumored to lie under the central lotus pond, now long drained.
Jun glowed, though he kept his tone calm. "I had to. The threat is greater now."
He peered ahead. Carvings on the walls told stories: moonlit warriors, spirits vanquished, seals broken. Each told hints about what they faced.
They reached a chamber where two sealed crypt doors stood, inscribed with guardian runes. One door pulsed with silver light; the other lay dark, cracked.
"This side first," Tawin said, gesturing to the silver one.
Jun nodded. He extended his hands, summoning spirit energy. As he chanted protective wards, Tawin circled the door, daggers drawn to unlock mystical seals etched along its border.
The door groaned open, revealing a sarcophagus, surrounded by wisps of dark vapor. A stone guardian shape sat to the side, watching.
Tawin motioned for caution. "Only one of us should approach."
Jun moved forward, energy glowing faintly around him. He placed a palm on the stone lid. The runes glowed. The crypt gasped open.
A spirit guardian—ancient, calm—rose up. It looked toward Jun, saw him, bowed its head. "Keeper of the moon's memory," it intoned in a distant voice, "you are worthy."
Jun swallowed. "I accept responsibility for this seal."
Suddenly, the chamber quaked. The walls rattled. A shadow coalesced behind them — a dark form, tendrils reaching, eyes burning.
Mark spun. "Lek, stay back!"
Lek raised dagger. The shadow flung itself at them. Mark's talisman blazed; he spoke words of binding. The light flared, lines of energy lacing across the chamber, sealing the shadow in a cage of moonlit chains.
The creature screeched, writhing. Lek lunged. Mark's voice rose in power, stronger, steadier, weaving magic and spirit together. With a final cry, the shadow collapsed into ashes, drifting away.
The seal pulsed, restored. Mark caught Lek's arm. "You okay?"
Lek nodded, breathing hard. "Yeah. More alive than okay."
Mark laughed — relief and adrenaline mingling. He clasped Lek's hand. "Good. Let's bring that lantern up. We'll need its light later."
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Meanwhile, Jun and Tawin advanced downward through ancient tunnels, torchlight flickering on mossy walls. The air smelled of damp earth and time.
Jun's heart pounded — not just from the physical descent, but from being close to Tawin again. Memories—old training sessions, laughter, shared secrets—hovered between them unsaid.
Tawin's voice cut softly: "You've grown stronger."
The guardian nodded. With a gesture, it revealed the second crypt's location and instructions for sealing it: two runes, one of light, one of sacrifice. Tawin memorized them carefully.
As they turned to leave, the shadows in the corridor flickered. Something loomed
To be continued.