The walk to the edge of town was long and silent.
Kael didn't speak. Neither did Aria. The weight of his words—the only other person who survived making a pact—hung between them like fog.
They moved through back trails and forgotten footpaths until the woods thinned, giving way to an abandoned greenhouse, glass cracked and covered in ivy. It looked like it hadn't been touched in years, yet someone had recently cleared a path through the brush.
"She lives here?" Aria asked.
Kael nodded. "She prefers silence. Being around others... hurts her now."
He opened the door. The hinges groaned.
Inside, the greenhouse was overgrown—but strangely beautiful. Pale-blue flowers bloomed where no light should reach. The air shimmered faintly with magical residue.
And in the center sat a woman.
Maybe in her twenties, skin pale as moonlight, eyes milky white—blind, but focused. Her hair hung in long silver strands that shimmered when she turned her head.
"Aria," the woman whispered, as though tasting the name.
Aria stepped back. "How do you know who I am?"
"She sees with the echoes of magic," Kael said gently. "What's left of it."
The woman stood slowly. Her voice was soft, broken like cracked glass. "You are the daughter of the final bloodline. The Moonmarked."
"The... what?"
"Your ancestors made the first pact. Each generation paid the price. And now it's your turn."
Aria's breath caught.
Kael stepped forward. "Tell her what you told me."
The woman nodded. "There's more than one kind of pact. Yours was made to protect, but others—like mine—were made to control. I survived because I severed it... but I lost my sight, my voice, my soul."
Aria stared. "You mean, I can break the pact?"
A silence stretched.
"Yes," the woman whispered. "But not without consequence. And not without him."
She pointed a trembling finger at Kael.
Aria turned sharply. "What does she mean?"
Kael didn't answer at first. "The magic in your veins is bound to mine," he said at last. "We're linked now. I was meant to guide you, yes… but also to balance you."
"To stop me?"
"To choose, when the time comes," he said carefully. "To protect this world... or destroy you before it's too late."
Aria staggered back. "That's not balance. That's a threat."
The woman stepped forward and placed a cold hand over Aria's mark. "You're not what they think you are, child. You're not what he thinks you are. The moon chose you… but its will is not pure."
Aria's skin chilled. "Then what am I?"
The woman smiled sadly.
"The end. Or the beginning."
---
Outside the greenhouse, the moon was already rising—too early, too bright.
Kael looked at her with something unreadable in his eyes.
"We don't have much time."
And Aria—for the first time—felt the terrifying weight of what she might become.
---