Chapter 7: The Awakening

Belinda's heart pounded as she stood before the ancient archway, its glowing runes pulsing like a heartbeat, beckoning her forward. The stranger, no, Callan, watched her with those piercing silver eyes, his presence both grounding and terrifying.

"Step through, Belinda," he repeated, his voice softer now, almost pleading. "You will remember everything."

She hesitated. The air around the arch shimmered like a veil between worlds, the swirling darkness within deep and infinite. A doorway to another existence. But could she trust him? Could she trust herself?

Her fingers clenched into fists. She had already come this far. Turning back was no longer an option.

With a sharp inhale, she stepped forward.

The moment her foot crossed the threshold, a surge of energy engulfed her. A violent wind howled through the clearing, whipping her cloak around her body. Light exploded behind her eyes, and suddenly, she was falling, not through air, but through memories.

Visions flashed through her mind, rapid and overwhelming.

A grand palace with silver towers piercing a twilight sky. A garden bathed in moonlight, where a woman with raven-black hair and a man with silver eyes whispered vows of love beneath a sacred tree. A battlefield drenched in crimson, the clang of swords and the cries of the fallen ringing in her ears. And then, fire. Shadows. A betrayal that shattered the heavens.

Pain seared through her chest. She gasped, clutching at the phantom wound, the echoes of a life she had forgotten pressing against her like an unbearable weight.

Then, silence.

When Belinda opened her eyes, she was no longer in the clearing.

She stood in the ruins of what had once been a grand courtyard, the stone beneath her feet cracked and covered in vines. The air was thick with the scent of rain and something else, magic, ancient and undisturbed for centuries.

Callan was beside her, his expression unreadable as he studied her reaction.

"You remember, don't you?" he murmured.

Belinda staggered back, her breath coming in sharp bursts.

"This place…" she whispered, her voice raw. "I've been here before."

"You were born here," Callan corrected gently.

Belinda's pulse thundered in her ears. "No," she shook her head, the denial instinctive. "That's impossible. I was born in Veywyn, raised in Veywyn."

Callan's gaze softened, as if he had expected her to resist.

"You are not who you think you are, Belinda." He took a careful step toward her. "You are the lost daughter of the Lunar Court, the heir to a throne that has waited centuries for your return."

The world tilted.

Belinda felt as if she were standing at the edge of a cliff, staring down into an abyss of truths she wasn't ready to face.

"No…" Her voice was barely a whisper.

But deep inside, she knew.

She had always known.

Her life in Veywyn, her restless dreams, the strange pull she had always felt toward the moon, it had never belonged to that small village.

It had always belonged here.

To him.

To this cursed kingdom, waiting to be awakened.

Callan reached for her, his hand warm against her trembling fingers.

"Welcome home, Moonborn."

Belinda's breath hitched.

And in that moment, everything changed.