Chapter 5: A Stranger in the Fog

The fog rolled in like a living thing—dense, silent, and unnaturally fast. It cloaked the forest in a pale, eerie veil, swallowing trees, light, and sound in one breath. By the time Seraphine stepped outside the cabin, she couldn’t see more than a few feet ahead of her.

She shouldn’t have been outside. Auren had warned her not to leave the perimeter without him. But he was gone again—disappearing at dawn with nothing more than a vague explanation about “tracking movement near the western ridge.” It wasn’t unusual now. He came and went like a ghost, his face growing more strained by the day, his eyes haunted by something he wouldn’t share.

But today was different.

Today, the fog was whispering her name.

At first, it was just a trick of the wind. Her imagination. But then the voice became clearer—low, melodic, beckoning.

“Seraphine…”

She froze.

The wind held no sound. The birds had long since gone quiet. Only the whispering remained, weaving through the trees like a siren’s song.

Her instincts screamed for her to go back inside, to lock the door and wait for Auren. But something inside her—something primal—compelled her forward. Not fear, not foolishness… curiosity. Or maybe something deeper.

The same force that had pulled her toward the stone circle.

The same energy that now lived in her blood.

With slow, cautious steps, she followed the sound into the mist. The cold wrapped around her limbs like chains. Each step took more effort than the last, like the forest itself was testing her resolve.

“Who's there?” she called out.

Silence.

Then: “Help me…”

The voice shifted—softer, broken, threaded with pain. It didn’t feel like a trap. It felt human. Desperate. She quickened her pace, heart pounding. The fog thickened, rising to her waist, swallowing her vision.

The trees parted suddenly, and she stumbled into a small clearing.

And there—standing in the center—was a man.

Or something like one.

Tall. Barefoot. Shirtless. His back was turned to her, covered in intricate markings that shimmered faintly beneath the fog-filtered moonlight. His body was lean, sculpted, his skin pale as ash.

He didn’t move.

Didn’t breathe.

Seraphine stepped closer. “Are you… hurt?”

The man turned.

Her breath caught.

His face was beautiful—but in the way a storm is beautiful. Wild. Dangerous. Eyes like liquid obsidian. Sharp cheekbones, lips stained with something dark… blood?

He tilted his head, studying her.

Then he smiled.

“You heard me,” he said softly. “Even through the mist.”

Seraphine’s heart pounded harder. “What are you?”

“Not a what,” he said, stepping forward. “A who. And perhaps… the one you’ve been waiting for.”

“I wasn’t waiting for anyone.”

“No?” His voice was velvet. “Then why did you follow my voice?”

She hesitated. The truth curled on her tongue. “I don’t know.”

“You do.” He was closer now—far too close. “You felt me. As I felt you. You called me with your awakening. When you took the oath… something shifted. The veil cracked.”

Her breath caught. “You’re one of them.”

His smile faded. “One of what, moonbound?”

She stepped back. “A Noctis.”

That made him laugh. It was deep, rich, almost amused. “No. But I know them. I’ve fought them. Tasted their blood.”

He moved like smoke, gliding instead of walking, circling her slowly.

“You don’t know what you are yet,” he murmured. “You think it’s just magic. Power. You think that’s all the moon gave you?”

She clenched her fists. “Who are you?”

He stopped in front of her, his gaze sharp.

“My name is Kael.”

The name vibrated through her. It meant something. Her magic pulsed beneath her skin, responding to him like a second heartbeat.

Kael’s eyes softened. “I’m not your enemy, Seraphine. But you’re surrounded by liars. Even the one who claims to protect you.”

“Auren?”

He gave a faint nod. “He doesn’t want you to know the truth. Not yet.”

“What truth?”

Kael’s voice dipped lower. “That the moonbound weren’t made to protect the world.”

Seraphine blinked. “What do you mean?”

“They were made to balance it. To tip the scales. Creation… and destruction.” He reached for her hand. She didn’t move. “The power inside you—it’s not light. It’s not dark. It’s both. And once it awakens fully, it will destroy anything that tries to control it.”

She stared at him, her voice barely a whisper. “Why are you telling me this?”

Kael leaned closer. “Because soon, they’ll all try to claim you. And when they do… you’ll need someone who doesn’t want to use you.”

She stepped back, the fog curling protectively around her.

“How do I know you’re not lying?” she asked.

Kael didn’t answer. He simply reached for something beneath the fog and held it up.

Her mother’s pendant.

Seraphine froze.

“Where did you get that?” she whispered.

Kael’s expression darkened. “She gave it to me.”

“You knew my mother?”

“We fought together,” he said. “Until she was betrayed. Until she died for a cause she never believed in.”

Seraphine’s legs gave out, and she sank to her knees. The pendant swung from his hand like a pendulum, gleaming in the dim light.

“I don’t… I don’t understand.”

Kael knelt in front of her, placing the pendant gently in her palm. “You will. In time. But know this, Seraphine—your mother didn’t want you bound to their prophecy. She wanted you free.”

And then he leaned forward and whispered something so low, so ancient, that it stirred the magic in her blood like a violent wind:

“The moon binds, but the blood remembers.”

Before she could respond, the fog thickened—so suddenly it blinded her. She reached out, but Kael was gone.

Gone as if he’d never been there at all.

---

She returned to the cabin shaking, the pendant clutched to her chest. Her mind reeled with questions, memories, doubt. Everything Kael had said contradicted what Auren had told her. But the pendant—her mother’s pendant—was real. She knew its weight. Its warmth. She’d held it as a child, before it vanished the night her mother died.

Auren returned hours later, soaked and silent. His face hardened when he saw her with the pendant.

“Where did you get that?” he demanded.

She stood her ground. “You tell me.”

He reached for it, but she stepped back. “Tell me the truth, Auren. Did you know my mother?”

“Yes,” he said quietly. “I did.”

“Did you fight with her?”

He nodded.

“Then why didn’t you tell me?”

A long silence passed between them before he answered.

“Because I failed her,” he said. “I couldn’t save her.”

Seraphine’s throat tightened. “Kael says she didn’t believe in the prophecy. That she was betrayed.”

Auren’s expression went still.

“You spoke to Kael?”

She nodded. “In the fog.”

Auren’s jaw clenched. “He’s dangerous, Seraphine. You should’ve run.”

“He didn’t hurt me.”

“Not this time,” Auren said. “But Kael is a creature born of both realms—moonlight and shadow. He was made to disrupt the balance.”

“So was I, wasn’t I?” she whispered.

He didn’t answer.

He didn’t have to.