The training hall pulsed with quiet energy.
Zeph sat cross-legged on a floating rock platform above Luna, juggling three glowing stones with casual ease. His dark hair swayed with the wind, and his smirk was impossible to miss.
> "Alright, Luna. Impress me. And no fireballs aimed at my face this time, please—I like it unburned."
Luna stood centered beneath him, breath steady, palms pulsing faintly with elemental energy. Across the chamber, Zephiron, King of Air, hovered in silence, arms folded, his silver cloak rippling in the currents he didn't need to command aloud.
> "You should focus," Zephiron said coolly to Zeph. "This isn't a playground."
> "It is when you're this charming," Zeph replied, tossing a wink toward Luna. "But fine. Let's get serious."
Luna exhaled deeply. Air whirled around her like a quiet cyclone. Heat shimmered at her fingertips.
> "I'm trying to combine them again," she muttered. "Without turning anyone to toast."
> "Toast is delicious," Zeph quipped. "But okay, for your sake—I believe in you."
Luna smirked, just a little, and focused.
She raised her hands. Wind tightened around her like armor, and flame danced in the circle of her palm. Slowly, carefully, she began to weave them into one—hot air forming a ring of spinning fire above her.
Zeph's eyebrows shot up. "Now that is terrifyingly gorgeous."
Even Zephiron looked impressed, though he didn't say it.
> "Maintain control," Zephiron instructed. "Let the flame breathe within the air. Do not smother one with the other."
Luna's brows furrowed as sweat beaded on her skin. But the elements began to move in harmony.
A fusion.
A balance.
Then—
The chamber's temperature dropped sharply.
The heavy doors creaked open.
Riven stepped inside, cloak trailing behind him, shadows clinging to his boots like whispers. He carried a sealed scroll with a golden emblem pressed into crimson wax.
Luna let the fusion fade. Zeph floated down, serious now.
> "That look says trouble," Zeph muttered.
Riven stopped in front of them. His voice was heavy. "This arrived an hour ago. From the Temple. A prophecy."
Kaelora descended from her throne of water silently. Terranak shifted his weight beside the stone brazier. Even Ignar's fire dimmed slightly.
Riven broke the seal and unrolled the parchment.
> "The girl born beneath the cursed stars, veiled in silver moonlight, shall awaken the sealed realm.
Her soul will call to the forgotten gods.
Her path leads to the sundering of balance.
Her light is not salvation… but the dusk of mankind."
Silence crushed the air.
Luna stood frozen.
The dusk of mankind…?
Zeph stepped forward instantly, fury hidden behind humor.
> "Oh wow. That's subtle. Why not just draw her with horns and call it a day?"
> "Zeph…" Riven warned.
> "No, I mean it," Zeph snapped, stepping protectively beside Luna. "This is crap. Who writes something like this and sends it in the name of fate?"
Terranak's eyes darkened. "The Temple claims the raven was sacred. That alone gives it weight."
Luna barely heard them.
Her vision blurred at the edges, her chest tightening. She had fought for this—for control, for acceptance, for purpose. And now… they painted her as destruction?
> "Is that what they see when they look at me?" she whispered.
> "No," Zeph said firmly. "That's not what I see."
Riven spoke quietly. "We don't know who wrote it. But if the Temple believes this… they may no longer see you as hope."
> "Then they're blind," Zeph growled.
Kaelora raised a hand. "This could be manipulation. Prophecies are ancient, but not infallible. Luna… your father once had deep ties with prophecy halls, didn't he?"
The idea struck Luna like lightning.
> "You think… he sent it?" she whispered. "To… what? Break me?"
> "Or control how you move forward," Zeph said grimly.
She backed away, heart racing.
Their voices blurred again.
Her light… is not salvation.
---
🌙 Later, under the moonlight
Luna sat on the temple roof, knees pulled to her chest, her pendant glowing faintly against her skin. The moon above was soft tonight. Distant.
Her voice cracked as she whispered,
> "What if they're right…?"
A breeze stirred.
And then—a voice within.
Elarion, King of Spirit.
> "You are not the dusk, Luna.
You are the moment before—the last hope in a world still waiting for dawn."
She closed her eyes, the wind brushing her cheeks like comfort.
> "They fear what they do not understand," Elarion said. "But you must not fear yourself."
> "What if I become what they say?" she whispered.
> "Then I will remind you who you are."
Her pendant glowed brighter.
And for the first time in hours, she breathed.
---
Back in the hall, Zeph paced alone, kicking pebbles with growing frustration.
> "Scrolls, prophecies, doom—ugh," he muttered. "Someone give that girl a cupcake and a hug."
Riven stood by the training ring, silent.
> "You believe it?" Zeph asked.
Riven didn't answer.
> "Well I don't," Zeph said. "And maybe you should start believing in her instead of every cursed piece of paper."
He turned and left before Riven could reply.
Riven stared at the scorched floor, whispering softly—
> "I want to… more than you know."