The alarm bells rang just after dawn.
High-pitched and urgent, the sound jolted the Moon Keep from its fragile peace. Warriors leapt from their beds, spellcasters lit their wards, and the guards swarmed toward the vault under the Queen's wing.
Selene reached the sealed door first, Moonfire already drawn.
The magic seal was broken—split down the center like a cracked mirror. The vault, which held every known Void artifact recovered since Damien's fall, now stood open.
Kael arrived next, staff glowing. "This shouldn't be possible. The wards were bound to moonlight and blood oath!"
Selene didn't answer. She stepped inside.
One shelf had been ransacked. Three relics were gone.
Among them—a vial containing the last preserved fragment of Damien's corrupted essence.
The council convened immediately.
"It had to be someone inside," Saria said, voice tight. "The vault is within the inner ring. No outsider could breach it unnoticed."
"Then someone among us has betrayed the Queen," Kael murmured.
Selene stood before them all, the tension in her jaw sharp enough to cut steel.
"Seal the Keep. No one leaves. No one enters. Every court member, every servant, every guard—questioned and verified. Find the traitor. Quietly."
Korren frowned. "Quietly?"
"Yes," Selene said. "If word spreads, we risk panic. Fear will only feed whatever darkness was awakened."
Elira, standing near the edge of the room, remained silent. Her eyes, though calm, were watching everyone.
Jace stepped forward. "Let me form a team. Lunar Guard only. We track this from the shadows."
Selene nodded. "Pick your best. Move fast. Whoever took that essence isn't working alone."
Hours later, Jace assembled the first five members of the Lunar Guard.
Thorne: A former Ironclaw scout with eyes like a hawk and blades like whispers.
Lyra: A shadow-walker from the Mistfangs, trained in illusion and infiltration.
Bram: A brute of a warrior, half-blooded with frostwolf lineage and fists like stone.
Mira: A seer touched by moonlight, able to read residual magic from objects and air.
And himself—Jace, the Queen's blade.
They called themselves The Howl in Silence.
Their first mission: uncover the traitor and retrieve the relics before they could be used.
That night, Mira led them to the lower vault, her fingertips hovering just above the stone floor. Threads of moonlight glowed where her touch passed, tracing faint echoes.
"There," she whispered. "Someone moved… no, slithered through here. Not walking. Crawling low. Fast."
"Shifter?" Thorne asked.
"No," Mira murmured. "Something darker."
Jace knelt near the broken seal. "There's no blood. No sign of struggle."
Lyra, cloaked in gray mist, emerged from the shadows with a torn scrap of cloth.
"The scent is masked. But the weave is Moon Keep-issued."
They were dealing with someone smart—someone who knew the guard's rotation, the seal's weakness, and how to cover their tracks.
A wolf within the den.
Meanwhile, Selene paced the Queen's tower, staring out at the cloud-draped mountains.
Elira entered quietly.
"You think it's me," she said.
Selene didn't turn. "I think it's someone who understands the void. And someone who would know that relics like those are dangerous in the wrong hands."
Elira's voice was calm. "If I wanted to finish what Damien started, I would've done it long ago."
Selene finally turned, her gaze piercing.
"Then help me stop whoever is trying to."
Elira nodded. "I'll start with the outer court. Some of the noble heirs—especially from Greytooth and Ashfang—still believe you don't deserve the crown."
"They're welcome to challenge me," Selene said coldly. "But they'll have to survive first."
At midnight, the Lunar Guard followed a whisper trail out of the vault—and into the catacombs beneath the Keep. These ancient tunnels were remnants of the First War, long since sealed… or so they thought.
Thorne paused at an old archway, running his fingers along the stone.
"There's blood here," he whispered. "Old. Hidden behind illusion."
Lyra stepped forward, performing a minor spell—and the wall melted away, revealing a hidden chamber.
Inside, candles burned in unnatural colors.
A small shrine stood at the center—bones arranged in spiral shapes. Void symbols carved into the stone. And on the altar—
—one of the stolen relics.
Jace's heart pounded.
"We're not alone," Bram growled.
A rustle.
A flash.
And suddenly a figure darted from the corner—cloaked in smoke, fast as a serpent.
Jace moved like lightning, pinning them against the wall, Moonsteel blade at their throat.
The figure hissed.
And then gasped.
It was Nira—a royal page.
Young. Barely eighteen. Eyes filled with terror—and… something darker.
"Why?" Jace asked.
Nira trembled. "They promised… they said the moon had abandoned us. That Selene would bring ruin. That the old gods… would give us power again."
Selene's worst fear was coming true.
The cult hadn't died.
It had gone quiet.
Back in the tower, Selene stared into the stars as Jace recounted everything.
"They're rebuilding," he said. "Small. Careful. But spreading again. One girl—barely more than a child—was already prepared to sacrifice herself for their cause."
Selene's voice was steady.
"Then we strike first. No more waiting. The darkness thinks it can rot us from the inside."
She turned, eyes glowing silver.
"Let's show it what happens when the moon burns."