Even days after the night the sky burned, the world remained trapped beneath a quiet gray snowfall. Rooftops were covered. Trees looked like pale ghosts. The air itself tasted dry and strange.

People said the ash came from the broken moon.

Others said it came from something far worse.

Lira didn’t know what to believe anymore.

She sat alone beside Blackwater Lake, where the surface of the water reflected the glowing moon above like shattered glass. The colors of the sky bled softly into the lake—violet, silver, and faint streaks of pink.

But the moon was no longer whole.

Thin cracks ran across its surface like scars.

And every time Lira looked at it… her arm began to burn.

She slowly pushed up her sleeve.

The mark glowed beneath her skin.

It was shaped like a strange crescent surrounded by tiny fractured lines, almost like the symbol of a broken moon. The light pulsed faintly, matching the rhythm of her heartbeat.

Thump.

Glow.

Thump.

Glow.

Lira’s fingers trembled as she touched it.

The moment her skin brushed the mark—

Pain exploded through her arm.

She gasped and fell back against the ground.

The lake rippled violently as if something had disturbed the water from beneath.

And suddenly—

The world around her disappeared.

Darkness swallowed everything.

Then images began to form inside her mind.

A city made of black stone.

Towering spires rising beneath a cracked moon.

Ash storms tearing through empty streets.

And standing in the middle of it all…

A figure.

Watching.

Waiting.

The figure slowly lifted its head.

Before Lira could see its face—

A voice echoed through the darkness.

Soft.

Ancient.

Powerful.

"The ashes remember."

Lira’s eyes snapped open.

She was back beside the lake.

Her chest rose and fell quickly as she tried to breathe.

“What… was that?” she whispered.

The lake had gone completely still.

Even the wind had stopped moving.

It felt as if the entire forest was holding its breath.

Then she noticed something strange.

The reflection of the moon in the water was moving.

Not rippling.

Changing.

The cracks across its surface were spreading.

Slowly.

Silently.

Lira stood up, her heart pounding.

“That wasn’t there before…”

Suddenly the mark on her arm flared with bright silver light.

She cried out and dropped to her knees.

Another whisper slid through the air.

This time closer.

"The marked one has awakened."

Lira spun around.

“Who said that?!”

But the forest remained empty.

Or so it seemed.

Hidden between the dark trees, someone watched.

A tall man stood in the shadows, his face hidden beneath the hood of a long black cloak. His eyes glowed faintly in the moonlight as he studied the glowing symbol on Lira’s arm.

For years he had searched for the sign.

The mark that would appear when the moon began to break.

And now it was finally here.

A quiet smile appeared on his lips.

“So the prophecy lives,” he murmured.

Lira did not hear him.

She was still staring at the burning mark on her arm, fear slowly rising inside her chest.

Because deep down, she felt it.

Something had changed.

Something inside her had awakened the moment the moon cracked.

And somewhere far above the clouds—

The broken moon pulsed once.

Like a heartbeat.

As if it knew her name.

End of Chapter 3