The tavern pulsed with life, a stark contrast to the silence of the village outside. Golden candlelight flickered across wooden beams, casting dancing shadows on the stone walls. The scent of roasting meat, spiced cider, and burning oak filled the air, a warmth that wrapped around Selene like a well-worn blanket.
But she felt none of it.
She sat at the corner table, fingers curled around a cup she had yet to sip from. Around her, the villagers laughed and talked—familiar faces, familiar voices—yet it all felt distant. Cassius sat beside her, half-turned toward a red-haired woman who was recounting some local gossip, his usual smirk firmly in place.
"You know old Mira swears she saw a ghost down by the lake again?" the woman said, shaking her head. "She says it was a man in dark robes, standing in the water like he was waiting for something."
Cass scoffed. "Mira sees ghosts every other week. Last month, it was a girl in a white dress. The month before that? A shadow with no face."
The table chuckled, but Selene barely heard them.
Her gaze flickered toward the window. The crescent moon hung low in the sky, its light casting long streaks across the cobblestone streets. The village had always been quiet at this hour, but tonight, something about that quiet felt... unnatural.
A soft gust of wind curled through the open window, rustling the candle flames. And then—
A whisper.
Selene.
She froze. The sound wasn't coming from inside the tavern. It was outside, carried on the wind, curling through the night like an unseen hand reaching for her.
Her breath hitched, heart hammering against her ribs. The air around her grew colder, though the fire burned bright beside her.
"Find me."
The whisper slithered into her ears, sinking into her bones. Her hands trembled slightly, her grip tightening on the ceramic cup.
Across the table, Cassius noticed. "You alright?"
Selene barely heard him. The room felt smaller, the voices around her nothing more than distant murmurs. The pull in her chest—the same one she had felt in her dreams—was growing stronger.
"I need some air," she muttered, rising abruptly. The chair scraped against the wooden floor, drawing a few glances, but she ignored them.
Cass frowned. "Selene—"
She was already walking toward the door.
The moment she stepped outside, the air shifted. The wind died down completely, as if the night itself was holding its breath. The street, once bathed in the warm glow of gas lamps, now felt eerily dim, the light failing to chase away the shadows.
And then she felt it.
A presence.
Her gaze lifted toward the clock tower at the far end of the street.
A figure stood beneath it.
Selene's breath caught.
The man was tall, dressed in a dark coat that blended into the shadows. The wind tugged at his hair—midnight black, tousled—his face partially obscured by the dim light. He wasn't moving. He was just... standing there, watching.
Something deep inside her twisted.
It wasn't fear.
It was recognition.
A soft gust of wind stirred, rustling the leaves, carrying a scent she couldn't quite place—cold rain, forgotten pages, something old and familiar.
"Selene."
The voice wasn't whispered this time. It was real, carried through the stillness, reaching her ears like a forgotten memory.
Her pulse pounded.
The world around her blurred, the edges of the village fading into something distant, unimportant.
She took a hesitant step forward. "Who...?"
The figure didn't move. Didn't answer.
But something inside her already knew.
Orion.
The name rose unbidden in her mind, though she couldn't recall ever hearing it before.
A flicker of movement—the wind shifted, the lanterns shuddered—and in that brief instant, the figure beneath the clock tower vanished.
Selene gasped, her hands trembling. She turned sharply, scanning the street, searching for any sign of him.
Nothing.
Only the wind, curling through the night, carrying echoes of a past she had yet to remember.
She pressed a hand to her chest, her heartbeat frantic beneath her fingertips.
The Second Moon was coming.
And it wasn't just a legend.