The first light of dawn crept across Aurex Bay, gilding the water with pale gold. Zephyr Ardent jogged along the empty boardwalk, each breath rising in soft clouds. His breaths came easy now—no longer the rising track star he once was, but a steady rhythm that steadied his restless mind.
Behind him, the city stirred to life: the faint roar of ferry engines, a vendor unpacking crates of fresh fruit, the distant clatter of construction. Zephyr slowed to a walk, looping back toward the high-rise apartment he shared with his mother and younger sister.
At home, his sister Lyra sat at the kitchen table, pencil tapping against her notebook. "Morning, Zee," she called without looking up. "Did you remember my math worksheet?"
Their mother, hands washed of flour and dough, offered Zephyr a tired smile as she slid a plate of steaming idli onto the table. "You didn't let me rest last night," she chided gently, though worry flickered in her eyes.
Zephyr sank onto the chair beside Lyra. "Got caught up with study group," he lied, glancing at the clock: 7:12 AM. School in forty minutes. His gaze lingered on his mother's furrowed brow—she was juggling two jobs, bills piling up, and he hadn't the heart to share his own troubles.
They ate in companionable silence. Lyra hummed a cheerful tune; his mother reminded her of lunch money, uniforms, reminders that felt both ordinary and precious.
After breakfast, Zephyr grabbed his backpack and headed down the hall to his room. Posters of past track meets, a faded medal draped over the corner of his desk—reminders of a life paused by a mysterious injury. He opened his laptop, checking messages: nothing from Corin, nothing unusual.
He tapped a chair by the window, propping his feet on the sill, and watched the city's traffic ripple below. His finger traced the condensation on the glass, forming a small circle that framed the neon sign of the Luna Spire in the distance.
Just another Tuesday.
School passed in a blur of equations and half-whispered conversations. Zephyr's gaze flicked to the classroom clock more times than he cared to admit. During lunch, he slipped outside into the courtyard, leaning against a low stone wall. The late spring air smelled faintly of jasmine and exhaust fumes.
His phone buzzed—a news alert showing a satellite image of a lunar eclipse predicted for tonight. "Rare Blood Moon Approaches: Skywatchers Prepare." He tapped the notification away, shrugging. A celestial event couldn't be more than a curiosity.
That evening, Zephyr clocked into his shift at the Harbor Paws Animal Shelter. The fluorescent lights hummed overhead as he refilled water bowls and coaxed a wary feral cat from its crate. The shelter was quiet, save for soft meows and the low tap of his shoes on the concrete floor.
Between cages, he paused at a low kennel, peering in at a silver-coated stray. The cat's amber eyes shone in the dim light. Zephyr knelt. "Hey there," he whispered. "Don't worry. I've got dinner for you." He placed a bowl of kibble gently before it.
As the cat lapped, Zephyr felt a faint flutter in his chest—like the echo of a heartbeat that wasn't entirely his own. He frowned, pressing a hand over his ribcage.
Is that… real?
He shook his head. Probably stress. The shelter's flickering bulbs played tricks sometimes. He rose and moved to the storeroom, unpacking neat boxes of supplies. The fluorescent hum felt suddenly too loud, his skin crawling.
A soft ping echoed in his mind, so subtle he thought it might be in his headphones. He pulled them off. Silence.
Ping.
He froze, chest tightening. A whisper, almost mechanical:
Lunar proximity detected.
Zephyr's heart thudded—was it the stray's growl, or something inside him? He forced calm, stacking the last box on a shelf. When he straightened, the lights blinked.
"Everything okay?" came a voice. Jaya, the shelter manager, stood in the doorway. Concern softened her features. "You look pale."
He nodded, forcing a grin. "Just tired." He handed her the final box. "All stocked."
Closing time fell like a curtain. Zephyr locked the front door and ducked the keys in his pocket, the stray's glowing eyes the last thing he saw as he left. Outside, the air had cooled. The sky was a deep indigo, spattered with stars.
He paused on the sidewalk, glancing up at the moon's edge already darkened by shadow. A thin red ring began to form, subtle and distant.
Tonight, he thought, that eclipse isn't just a story.
A tremor of unease whispered through him. His phone vibrated with Corin's name flashing on the screen. His brother was still in town—he hadn't replied all day. Zephyr thumbed the call aside for voicemail.
As he headed home, a distant siren wove through the night air. He took it as a cue to pick up the pace, shoulders tightening.
Inside his apartment, his mother waited by the hallway light. She looked up as he stepped in. "Dinner's late," she said softly. "I'll heat up leftovers."
He crossed to her, picking at a loose thread on his sleeve. "Mom… I'm fine," he said quietly.
She studied him, eyes warm with care and unspoken worry. "Get some rest," she murmured, kissing his forehead before disappearing down the hall.
Alone in his room, Zephyr closed the door and leaned against it. The drive from Corin felt heavy in his pocket, an unspoken promise of danger. He slid onto his bed and lay back, the moonlight casting shifting patterns on the ceiling.
His phone buzzed again—an incoming text from Corin:
"Meet me tonight. Dock 12. Midnight. Don't trust anyone."
Zephyr's stomach clenched. Images of deserted docks at night drifted through his mind, echoes of sirens and … something else. He slipped under the covers but couldn't sleep.
Hours passed in silent watching until, far above, the eclipse reached its peak. A cold hush descended as Aurex Bay fell under the moon's crimson veil. Zephyr's breath caught in his throat.
He rose, pulled on his hoodie, and headed for the door—one last look at the silver stray in the shelter's CCTV still fresh in his mind. His phone slipped into his hand like a lifeline.
Slow start… he reminded himself. Tonight, answers would come.
And somewhere beneath the city, buried deep beneath cracked concrete and steel, something waited—its power waking with the eclipse, humming with ancient promise.
Tomorrow, everything would change.