#- 5. Beneath the Blood Moon

"If I could turn back time, I'd bury my words in your memory—so they couldn't be twisted by lies, so I wouldn't be haunted by this quiet fear that even follows me into my dreams."

Aisha watched her reflection in the airplane window, lost in a sea of thought. The world beneath her blurred into a tangle of memories and emotions. The air felt thick, every breath an act of resistance. She knew this journey would change everything—but she hadn't foreseen how deeply it would hurt to return.

The Reunion of Aisha and Cristal

The sun dipped behind the hills as Aisha arrived at Cristal's estate. The place radiated grandeur—but also carried the weight of old sorrow. Lionel met her at the entrance. They exchanged no words; the silence said enough.

Cristal waited in the main hall, bathed in the warm light of an antique lamp. Her figure, hands resting gently on her swollen belly, looked almost sacred. But it wasn't the pregnancy that rattled Aisha—it was what it represented: a life she could never have with Rasen.

"Rasen will never understand," Cristal thought, stroking her stomach. "But this child is my redemption. My chance to make things right."

When Aisha saw her, envy slithered up her spine like a snake. It wasn't just the child. It was the calm, the purpose—the illusion of family. Everything that had been stolen from her.

—How far along are you? —she asked in a neutral tone.

—Four months —Cristal answered without hesitation. Her eyes held a dangerous sweetness.—And I understand why my father loved you so much.

Aisha froze, trapped between the ache of the past and a present she refused to accept. What would Rasen think of all this?

—You don't have to understand —Cristal added—. But this child… is everything. For me. And for Rasen.

The air turned heavier. The answer she feared was already in the words.

—Even if I must die for him, I would. The past is the past, Aisha. For the sake of this present… and my son… let's be good friends.

Aisha clenched her fists. Her face remained unreadable, but her eyes flickered.

—Only you can bring Rasen back to his real family —Cristal pressed—. For my child's sake.

"His son. His family." The words hit Aisha like a blow to the chest. It was the least she could do for Rasen.

—I'll help you —she said at last—. For his son.

That night, Cristal gathered a bundle of letters from her desk. Only one stopped her—a sealed message with the insignia of Solomon, the Ebony Wolf. "Her pupils dilated as she recognized the seal. Her hand trembled... but her smile, ironically, grew firmer."

Lionel entered then, his gaze sharp. He felt the air shift, her heartbeat rising—rage held tightly in a mask of calm.

—What are you doing with Aisha? —he asked at last.

Cristal swirled a glass of wine, poised yet poisonous.

—Don't worry about Aisha. She's strong. She always survives.

—I'm warning you, Cristal. If you try anything—

—She's my father's woman —Cristal cut in coldly—. That makes her my responsibility.

Lionel stayed silent, but his eyes spoke volumes. As he left, he murmured:

—Rasen can never know.

Later that night, Lionel stepped outside the castle walls, heart pounding. He stopped near the forest, lit a cigarette, and looked toward Aisha's window.

"Why do I care this much?" he wondered. Maybe she reminded him of himself—alone, abandoned, pride masquerading as indifference. "Rasen's wrong."

He almost went up to speak with her. To tell her the truth. But something held him back.

—Maybe… I should say it —he muttered, crushing the cigarette into the dirt.

Flashback:

Lionel, holding Aisha's letters, approached Rasen. The man lit a candle and burned them, one by one.

—Nothing of her remains. She's your problem now. She's only mine —Rasen said with chilling calm.

Lionel swallowed hard.

—If you still love her… if you still feel anything for Aisha—

Rasen's gaze cut him down. The candle's flame cast a devilish glow.

—Don't say her name again —he hissed.

The last letter turned to ash.

—What should I do then? —Lionel asked, tense.

Rasen snuffed the candle with his fingers.

—Stay away from Aisha. I'll deal with her when the time comes.

—And Cristal?

The air chilled.

—I've been honest with her. But if I find even one lie… it's her end. Forget Aisha. Protect Cristal.

Present:

Lionel exhaled hard. A sudden shiver gripped him. The air smelled of wet soil and rusted metal—like death slipping through the castle walls.

A shadow moved silently down the hallway. It made no sound—but its presence was suffocating. Too thick. Too real. Lionel's chest tightened. Something—or someone—was near.

"I'm not alone," he realized, his throat tightening. Cold sweat dotted his brow as his eyes scanned the corridor.

Elsewhere in the castle, Aisha stepped to the window. The blood moon hung above like a watchful eye, casting the world in a deep red glow.

Its light pierced the glass, reaching into her chest—dragging every memory, every buried fear to the surface.

She hugged herself.

Something unseen was coming.

"The sky knows," she thought, shivering. "The moon is warning me… tonight, everything changes."

Just then, Lionel appeared at her door—but said nothing.

—Were you going to knock? —Aisha asked without turning.

He swallowed.

—Yes. But I didn't know if I wanted to.

Aisha turned slowly. For a breath, they were no longer enemies or guards—just two people broken by the same story.

—And if you did, Lionel? What then?

He stepped forward—but didn't touch her.

—Nothing good —he said quietly—. Because if I start speaking truth… I might never stop.

He walked away, lost in thought. Outside in the mist, he read the scrap he'd found:

*"Aisha… I don't know who I am when you're not near. Maybe I'm just another shadow. Maybe Cristal sees something in me that I don't. But you… you saw inside me.

If I ever come back—it won't be for redemption. It'll be for you.

But if I don't, promise me this: don't carry my shadow with you."*

—R.

—Damn it… he still hasn't forgotten —Lionel muttered, grinding his cigarette beneath his heel.

Far away, in the tower…

Sariel's eyes snapped open.

"The walls didn't just shake. Their cracks seemed to open like mouths waiting to scream."

The blood moon caressed his skin through cracks in the wall.

A hum vibrated through the stones.

—They're playing without me —he whispered, a crooked smile forming.

Chains coiled around his body.

—Soon… they'll all remember.

His shadow stretched, alive, slithering across the floor.

And somewhere beneath that moon—someone had already begun to scream.