The council chamber felt different today.
Colder.
Sharper.
Hungrier.
As I entered, twenty eyes snapped toward me—some wide with shock, some calculating, some already full of quiet fear.
My father sat at the head of the round table, shoulders heavier, face paler from yesterday's attack. His hands trembled slightly as they rested on the polished wood.
Kael stood behind him—
not at the right hand of the king,
but behind the chair.
Too many people whispered about his closeness to the throne.
Arcelia sat demurely beside Father with folded hands and soft lashes lowered like a grieving dove.
Lies.
And the moment I stepped in with Lysander walking a half-step behind me like a shadow that had learned to breathe—
The entire chamber went still.
Gasps.
Startled murmurs.
A few guards reached for weapons out of instinct.
Father rose halfway from his seat.
"Aura—who is—?"
"He is with me," I said calmly.
Lysander's presence filled the room like a silent storm settling over the table.
He bowed—not deeply, not respectfully, but just enough to mimic palace etiquette.
"My king," he said.
His voice smooth, almost polite.
Almost.
Father flinched again. Something about Lysander pulled on instincts no human could ignore.
"Aura…" Kael stepped forward, eyes tight with worry. "You shouldn't have brought him here."
"He saved my life yesterday," I replied. "A seat at a table is hardly unreasonable."
Arcelia smoothed her dress, her voice soft.
"Aura, sister, you're not well. Yesterday's… display… it must have confused you."
Lysander's eyes flickered toward her—
a slow, dangerous turn.
Arcelia swallowed.
Good.
I walked to an empty seat near Father. Lysander stood behind me, mirroring Kael's position behind Father.
A perfect pair.
Shadow and crown.
Death and duty.
Father cleared his throat.
"We gather today," he announced, "to address the breach at our gates, the creatures inside our walls, and the… magical disruption in the eastern wing."
A pause.
Eyes slid toward me.
My fingers tightened around the arm of my chair.
Lord Ren leaned forward, voice sharp.
"With respect, Your Majesty, the most concerning disruption here is none other than your daughter."
A few murmurs of agreement rippled.
Kael bristled. "Watch your tone—"
Ren raised a hand.
"Magic erupted from her chambers last night strong enough to crack the palace foundation. That is not… normal."
Lysander answered before I could.
"It was controlled," he said. "Barely. But controlled."
Ren sneered. "Who asked you, shadow-creature?"
Lysander smiled without warmth. "You did. Poorly."
A ripple of uneasy laughter.
Mostly fear.
Lord Halven spoke next, steepling his fingers.
"Your Majesty, we must ask—how did such magic appear? Has Lady Aura been trained in the arcane arts? Has she—"
"No," Father said quickly.
Too quickly.
He looked at me, confusion and worry etched deep.
"Aura," he said softly, "how long have you… felt these things?"
Magic.
Moonfire.
Death.
Rebirth.
I met his gaze.
"Longer than I realized."
A low murmur swept the room.
"That does not explain the creatures," Lady Mirela said, voice shaking. "What were those monsters? Why were they here?"
"They came for her," Ren said. "Everyone saw it. They ignored the king and went straight for Aura."
All eyes turned to me again.
Kael stepped forward. "If anyone tries to use last night to blame Aura—"
"Why not blame her?" Ren snapped. "Those beasts were not here before her magic awakened."
"She didn't summon them!" Kael slammed a hand on the table.
Ren smirked. "How do you know?"
Because he watched it in another life.
Because he saw me bleed out under a red moon.
But Kael couldn't say that.
He didn't know it yet.
The tension rose—
so thick it felt like lightning waiting for someone to cough.
Lysander stepped forward, voice cool and clean as a blade on stone.
"The creatures," he said, "came from the western ruins. From the forest your scouts fear. They were called—and sent—by someone inside this palace."
The entire chamber froze.
Father's breath stopped.
Arcelia went white.
Ren slammed his fist on the table.
"A lie!"
"Truth," Lysander said simply.
"And what proof," Ren growled, "do you present?"
Lysander's gaze shifted to Arcelia.
My sister's lips parted.
Her hand trembled.
Her heartbeat—
I could hear it—
fluttered like a trapped bird.
"Shall we ask her?" Lysander murmured.
Arcelia stood abruptly, chair scraping backward.
Her mask shattered at once.
"Don't you DARE—" she snapped.
"Arcelia?" Father whispered, horror crossing his face.
She swallowed, eyes darting wildly.
"You poisoned Aura once," Lysander said softly. "You plotted with another. And last night, you helped set the trap meant to kill her."
Gasps.
Kael lurched to his feet.
"What?" he breathed.
Arcelia laughed—a sharp, brittle sound.
"Everyone knows Aura has… episodes. Wild stories. Nightmares. This creature is feeding her delusions."
"Creature?" Lysander echoed.
A faint smile touched his lips.
"I've been called worse."
"Arcelia," Father said, voice thick with pain, "tell me he's lying."
She froze.
Then slowly, very slowly—
her eyes slid toward me.
Hate sharpened her gaze into something poisonous.
"She doesn't belong here," she said. "She isn't one of us. She's cursed."
Father staggered.
Kael's eyes widened.
The council murmured with increasing panic.
Arcelia pointed at me, voice rising hysterically.
"You all saw what she did! She burned a monster to ash with her bare hands! She broke the palace with a scream! She isn't human, Father!"
The room went silent.
Dead silent.
I felt the words pierce me—
not because they were wrong,
but because she said them with such triumph.
Lysander stepped to my side, voice low.
"She is more human than you have ever been."
Arcelia snarled.
"She will destroy us."
"No," Lysander whispered. "She will save you. If she chooses."
I stood slowly.
The council stiffened.
My magic simmered under my skin—not raging, not exploding… just awake.
Alive.
"Aura," Father whispered, voice trembling, "please… tell me the truth."
I looked at him—
The man I loved in two lives.
The man I failed to save once.
The man whose death triggered a kingdom's collapse.
I couldn't lie to him.
"I was born with magic," I said softly. "Magic I never understood. Magic Mother feared. Magic the moon… remembered."
"M-Mother?" Father choked.
I nodded.
"She tried to protect me. But she couldn't protect herself."
Silence fell like a dropped blade.
Kael stared at me like he was seeing a ghost.
"Aura…" he whispered.
Arcelia stepped backwards—
as if inching toward an exit only she could see.
But Lysander saw.
He stepped forward, cutting off her escape.
"Running won't save you," he said gently.
Her expression twisted.
"If I fall," she hissed, "I won't fall alone."
That was when it happened.
A guard standing by the wall suddenly jerked—
then lunged.
Sword drawn.
Face blank.
Eyes glazed.
Controlled.
Controlled by someone.
The blade came straight for my father.
"NO!" I screamed.
Kael moved at the same time.
Lysander did too.
But I was faster.
Silver burst from my hand like a lightning bolt—
striking the guard in midair
and sending him crashing into a pillar with bone-shattering force.
His sword clanged to the floor, inches from Father's foot.
The council screamed.
Father stared at me—
not in fear,
but in awe.
"Aura…" he whispered.
Kael stumbled backward, shock all over his face.
Lysander's voice was quiet and certain.
"You saved the king."
I turned to Arcelia.
She wasn't looking at the fallen guard.
She was looking at me—
in pure, unfiltered terror.
"Aura…" she whispered. "You weren't supposed to wake up. You weren't supposed to remember. You weren't supposed to be this."
"What am I, Arcelia?"
Her lips trembled.
"You're the moon's child," she whispered. "And moon-children die young."
Then she ran.
Guards chased after her.
Kael turned to me, eyes desperate.
Frightened.
Confused.
"Aura," he said hoarsely, "what are you?"
I opened my mouth.
But Lysander answered for me.
"She," he said softly,
"is the girl who shouldn't exist."