chapter 13

The Boy in the Snow

The blizzard howled across the northern wastes.

Not a single beast stirred.

Not a soul had walked here in years.

Only ruins and silence…

and him.

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He lay half-buried beneath the snow,

bare feet frostbitten,

lips blue,

but eyes open.

Glowing.

Not with warmth… but with power.

The Second Moon hovered high above him,

even though it wasn't supposed to be visible tonight.

It watched him.

And he watched it back.

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Elsewhere, days later…

Lyra jolted awake.

Sweat clung to her skin, and her pulse raced.

> "That dream again…"

She saw his face — the boy's face —

though she didn't know him.

Didn't know why her soul remembered what her mind did not.

But she knew one thing for sure:

The Second Moon had risen.

And something terrible had returned with it.

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She stepped out of her tent into the misty dawn.

Malrik and Calem were already awake, watching her carefully.

> "The moon," she said.

"You see it?"

Calem pointed to the sky, where only the First Moon hung.

> "No. Nothing there."

But Lyra didn't believe the sky.

She believed her heart.

And it was trembling.

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In the north…

The boy walked alone now, wrapped in a cloak of stolen fur.

He didn't remember his name,

but he remembered the fire.

And he remembered the voice:

> "You will be my vessel."

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Villagers in the nearby frost-town whispered of him.

A shadow moving in the snow.

No footprints left behind.

Eyes that glowed white-blue when he got angry.

Some said he was cursed.

Others said he was a god.

But one name spread across the northern wind:

"Astrael."

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Back with Lyra…

She and the others had reached the ruins of Solven Vale —

once a city, now just broken stone and moss.

But beneath it, ancient texts remained.

Malrik unearthed a frozen scroll.

> "Look at this."

It spoke of a child born under the stolen moon,

a vessel of power not meant for man.

A name was scratched into the old page — barely legible:

> "Astrael. Moonborne."

---

Lyra stepped back, her voice tight.

> "He's real."

Calem whispered, "Then we have to find him."

Malrik asked the question they all feared:

> "Or stop him?"

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But Lyra shook her head slowly.

> "He's not the enemy.

He's the key."

And in the distance, as the wind howled again,

the Second Moon shimmered —

faint but growing.

Something ancient had awakened.

And it was watching them all.

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To be continued…

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