The forest stilled.

Moonlight bled through the clouds in narrow beams, painting silver trails through the trees, but the clearing around the Spirit Altar was unnaturally silent. Even the wind dared not move. At its center, Elena lay motionless, wrapped in the energy of the Thirteenth Moon—an ancient force long thought forgotten.

Aria’s breath caught. Her fingers trembled, not from fear, but awe. The markings that had appeared on Elena’s skin glowed faintly, etching spirals, runes, and ...