I stared at May, uncertain. "Wait what are you saying?"
She took a shaky breath, her voice soft but trembling. "I know it sounds weird, but… everyone's pretending like she never even existed."
"Of course she existed," I said, incredulous. "Everyone knows about her."
But May shook her head. "No. It's not like that. My friends, my parents... no one even knows her name. You might have her case file. I need to see it."
"Calm down," I told her gently. "Let me check what's really going on. Just go home for now. I'll call you later."
She nodded and left reluctantly.
Later, I made my way to the Cosmic Court. But the chaos that had once gripped the halls, panic over the curse, the looming sense of disaster had vanished. Everything was calm. People moved about as if nothing had ever happened.
Then I heard the familiar voice of Mayor Woods behind me. "What are you doing here, Miss Winters?"
The moment she spoke, I knew something was terribly wrong. If even the Cosmic Court was unaffected, if Mayor Woods showed no signs of worry, then the memory loss extended beyond the mundane world. The supernatural realm, too, had forgotten. Forgotten her. Forgotten the ritual.
I feigned composure. "I was just here for the library," I replied. "And you, being one of the Wardens, must know everything... Have you ever heard of a magic called the Ritual of the Blood Moon?"
She frowned. "Never heard of it. Not in any grimoire. That sounds like something forbidden. If it existed, I would've found mention of it in The Black Testament*. Your grandmother... she was one of a kind. Always experimenting with dark magic. Arrested twice for it. Maybe this is one of her little side projects."
"You're right," I said quickly. "Thanks. I'll see you around."
As I left, unease clawing at my chest, my phone vibrated. A missed call from May. I rang her back immediately.
"Come to my place," I said. "I've found something. Something strange."
When May arrived, her face was drawn tight with anxiety. "What did you find?"
"You were right," I said. "No one remembers her. And there's something else... something I need to show you. But you have to trust me."
She hesitated, puzzled. "Trust you about what?"
I took a breath. "What if I told you that witches, warlocks, werewolves... all the creatures you think are myths ,they're real?"
Her face twisted with disbelief. "What? Wait, what are you saying?"
"They exist, May. All of them. In real life."
"No. That's not possible. It's all fantasy."
"I know it's hard to believe. Which is why... I'll show you."
I lifted my hand and conjured the flame from my palm. May's eyes widened in awe and terror. I glanced at the dressing table and fixed my gaze on the fake mini cactus. With a flick, it vanished only to reappear instantly in her hands.
With a startled scream, she dropped it. "What are you?" she demanded.
"I'm a witch," I said, calmly now. "And we're not alone. Witches, warlocks, shapeshifters, and many more live among humans."
Her voice shook. "This is insane. You're saying you're a witch? You—my neighbour? The girl I've known my whole life?"
"Yes. We're forbidden from revealing ourselves, but now… something's changing. Something dangerous. There are things happening in both our worlds."
She swallowed hard. "What happened to Iris, then? Why does no one remember her?"
I lowered my voice. "Someone is trying to complete a forbidden ritual. The Ritual of the Blood Moon. If they succeed, they'll absorb the power of all Eight Orders. It could bring destruction beyond imagination. Iris... she was the sacrifice."
May's face turned pale. "You mean the town… it's not safe?"
"Not just Saint Harley," I said grimly. "Whoever is behind this could threaten both our worlds. And if they break the veil between them there'll be no undoing it. The curse has already taken hold. That's why no one remembers Iris."
"Then... why do we remember?"
"I don't know," I admitted. "But we're going to find out. I'll explain more soon. But for now you should go home."
May left a few moments later, visibly shaken. The fear hadn't left her eyes. Confused, frightened, and still struggling to believe yet somehow holding on.
The next day had passed like any other. I was on front desk duty at the station, watching the clock crawl toward 9 p.m., when my shift would finally end. Then, out of nowhere, May walked in.
I recognized the look in her eyes restless, searching, still full of questions.
"What are you doing here?" I asked softly. "And... how are you holding up?"
She gave a small nod. "Better. But it's still hard to believe witches are real."
"I know it's a lot to take in," I said quietly. "But you have to keep this to yourself. If my people find out you know about our world, we'll both be in serious trouble."
"I get it," she sighed. "But I still want answers about your world, the curse, or whatever it is. And... do you have Iris's case file?"
"No," I replied. "I haven't seen her in two days. Why do you ask?"
"Her belongings," she said. "I want to know what happened to them. Maybe there's something important in the file."
She had a point.
"Alright. Wait fifteen minutes when my shift ends, we'll head to the record room."
Fifteen minutes later, I led her down the hallway. I had access, being a police officer. But I had to sneak May past the others.
When we stepped inside, the room was a mess. Files scattered, drawers left open... it looked like someone had left in a hurry. We exchanged uneasy glances. Something wasn't right.
I rushed to the cabinet where Iris's case file should've been. I searched every folder, every drawer. It wasn't there.
Then... I felt it. A presence nearby.
I turned toward the shelves. I couldn't see anyone, but I knew someone was there
hidden by magic. He realized I'd sensed him, and he tried to escape.
But I acted fast.
My eyes shifted to emerald green, flecked with gold. I raised my hand and sent a wave of light toward the door and it locked instantly. Trapped, the intruder revealed himself.
He was young, maybe mid-twenties, with golden hair, blue eyes, and sharp cheekbones. Dressed in a blue tee and black leather jacket, he looked confident
even now but there was fury in his expression.
"Who are you?" I demanded. "And what are you doing here?"
He smirked. "Why should I tell you?"
"If you don't, I'll report you to the Cosmic Court. I found you snooping around the record room."
"Then I'll report you too," he said, voice edged with sarcasm. "What are you doing here?"
"I'm a police officer. I belong here. You don't."
His eyes narrowed. "What about your little mundane friend? How do you think the Court will feel about that?"
May stepped forward. "Wow clearly you don't know what's going on."
"Neither do you," he snapped. "You have no idea what's coming."
I felt my pulse quicken.
"What are you talking about? Do you remember anything about a ritual?"
He hesitated.
"Wait... are we talking about the same thing?"
May crossed her arms. "Depends. What situation do you mean?"
He took a breath and said calmly,
"The Ritual of the Blood Moon."
I stared at him.
"So you remember too..."
The tension broke just enough for him to lower his voice.
"We need to talk."
We decided to talk. I was still reeling shocked and wondering why the curse hadn't affected him, or how he even remembered it. Later that evening, we headed to the diner near the police station. Even at night, the place was packed. Pop songs played through the speakers, mixing with laughter, chatter, and the clatter of board games across crowded tables.
"So," I began, "who are you?"
He leaned back, casually confident. "Samuel. Samuel Montfort."
The name struck a chord familiar, like a half-remembered dream.
"Which Order?" I asked.
"Jupiter," he replied.
May cut in, her voice curious. "What's an Order?"
Samuel raised an eyebrow. "How long has this kid been familiar with all this?"
May bristled. "How old do you think I am?"
"Sixteen, maybe?" he guessed.
She scoffed, visibly annoyed. "I'm twenty-two."
He shrugged. "You look sixteen to me."
May's short stature, rounded figure, and slightly reddish cheeks did lend her a youthful air, though her expression now said otherwise.
I stepped in. "We have eight coven-like groups, which we call Orders. Each one is named after a planet and specialises in its own magical domain. We discover our Order when we use magic for the first time our eyes change, and the colour reveals where we belong."
May studied Samuel thoughtfully. "So you're from the Order of Jupiter? And you?" she asked me.
I nodded. "The Order of Venus."
Samuel waved off the digression. "Let's get back to the point. How long has this girl known about all this?"
"Two days," I said. "I was assigned to her case. Then the curse happened. Somehow, it didn't affect May. I attended the girl's funeral and felt something was off but didn't pursue it. Later, May came to me and said no one remembered Iris. That's how she knows."
"And you?" I asked him. "What's your story?"
"I was assigned by Sir Benjamin to lead the investigation into the ritual," Samuel explained. "But last night, all the information I had every report, every clue vanished. Even my enforcer had no memory about that girl or the ritual,Your case file was all that remained."
May's eyebrows shot up. "Wait, you're some kind of officer?"
Samuel nodded. "Commander, under authority of the Cosmic Court."
I froze. "You're Commander Montfort? That's why your surname rang a bell. I thought you'd be, I don't know… fifty."
He smirked. "Bit young for a commander, I know. But focus. We need to alert the people and the Court. But they won't believe just the two of us."
I watched him, sensing he already had a plan. "You've got something in mind, haven't you?"
"I do," he said. "First, we need to uncover the nature of the curse that wiped everyone's memory of the ritual. Once we have that, they'll believe us."
"The Court must have records of this curse," I offered.
"They did," Samuel replied darkly. "But whoever's behind this… they erased those records too."
May and I both stared at him.
"Wait what?" I asked.
"There's no memory, no trace of the curse," Samuel said. "This maniac is removing all evidence from existence."
May asked, "Then how are we meant to discover anything about the curse or the ritual?"
He didn't hesitate. "The Black Testament."
My breath caught. "Only the Wardens know where that book is. Every trespasser who's tried to reach it has been killed."
"You're right," Samuel said. "It's dangerous but I think I can get us there."
"How?" I asked.
"I know where the book is," he said. "And I know someone who can help us."
"Who?"
"He's an elf. We'll meet him tomorrow morning, then head for the book."
May frowned. "Shouldn't we hurry? What if the ritual happens sooner?"
Samuel replied, "The ritual can only happen during the Blood Moon. We still have a month. And the elf only agreed to meet us tomorrow. We've no choice."
He turned to me. "Valerie, while I make arrangements, you need to keep investigating the curse and the ritual. And protect May. She's part of the evidence now. If the one behind this is still watching,
he may try to eliminate her."
After he left, May and I walked home together.
"He seems nice," May said.
I shrugged. "Hmm, maybe."
"You've never met him before?" she asked.
"No. He's not from Saint Harley. I'm beginning to remember—they're like some noble family from London. I've always heard people talk about the Montforts. Of course, especially Commander Montfort. The way everyone described his heroic deeds, I assumed he'd be in his forties, maybe fifties. Now I see why it was mostly girls talking about him."
We giggled, the realization sinking in, and then parted ways to our homes.
The next morning, I had the day off. Samuel arrived at my doorstep early, and moments later, May joined us.
"So what are we doing about her?" Samuel asked, gesturing toward May.
"She's coming with us, obviously," I said.
"We can't let anyone know a mundane's aware of us," he replied, stern. "And it's already hard enough for the two of us to reach the Black Testament. She can't come."
May furrowed her brows. "So you're leaving me behind?"
"Yes," he said plainly. "But you still need protection."
"How?" she demanded.
Samuel slipped something from his jacket pocket a round amulet of aged gold. A strange 'Y' symbol was etched in its centre, surrounded by swirling lines. Tiny runes circled the edge like guardians of old lore. It felt warm to the touch, humming with latent magic.
"Wear it," he told her. "We don't know if the culprit will come after you, but if he does this will protect you."
May sighed. "Alright, fine."
I could feel the power inside the amulet. It was strong. Strong enough to keep her safe.
Then I turned to Samuel. "So, where's this elf of yours?"
"Come on," he said. "I'll show you."
The place wasn't far. An old antique shop, tucked between crumbling stone walls and dusty windows.
"That's the place," he said.
"When did elves start living among humans? I thought they hated them."
We stepped inside. A man sat at the till, mundane at first glance. But as soon as he sensed our magic , he shifted. The illusion fell away.
He was an elf.
Dark-skinned, his hair snow-white and braided into six long plaits that fell over his shoulders.
"So it's you again, Commander," the elf said. "What do you need this time? And who's the young lady?"
He extended his hand towards me. "I'm Sylionar. You may call me Syle."
"Valerie," I replied. "Valerie Winters."
Samuel cut in. "Enough introductions. We need the Veil Stone."
Syle narrowed his eyes. "And what do I get in return?"
"I only need to borrow it," Samuel insisted.
"Still," Syle said, "you must leave something valuable behind. Something that ensures its return."
Samuel hesitated. "What do you want?"
Syle's gaze settled on Samuel's jacket, sensing something hidden.
"Your Warden's Seal," he said.
The Warden's Seal is a magical emblem of rank and authority, granting high-ranking Wardens access across realms. Bound to its bearer, it was more than mere metal; it was status incarnate. And trading it... risked everything.
Samuel nodded. "Fine. Take it."
He placed the seal gently into Syle's palm.
"You guard this," Samuel said. "And I'll guard the stone until it's returned."
"Agreed," Syle said.
And with that, we left.
As we made our way towards the Black Testament on foot, I turned to Samuel and asked, "So, where exactly is the Black Testament?"
He replied with quiet conviction, "The Cosmic Court."
I stopped in my tracks, stunned. "So it's been here this whole time?"
"Yes," he said, almost amused. "The Cosmic Court is far bigger than you realize ."
Curiosity gripped me. "How did you find out?"
"Sir Benjamin," he said, " He's due to retire soon... I'll be taking his post as Warden of the Order of Jupiter."
"First a heroic commander," I murmured, "and now a council member. Not bad."
Moments later, we arrived at the Cosmic Court crowded as ever. Officials darted across the polished wooden floors, parchment in hand. Mayor Woods was berating one of the enforcers near the entrance. We slipped past them, careful not to draw attention, and made our way to the lift.
Samuel pressed the button for the ground floor.
I recalled that floor as nothing more than a cluttered archive dusty shelves, forgotten case files. Now I know better. There was a mystery buried deep beneath the mundane.
The lift opened into a wide corridor: red carpet, polished wooden floors, and walls clad in aged oak. A single light above flickered erratically as we walked past rows of doors. Samuel stopped at one labelled Old Abandoned Case Files and Evidence.
We stepped inside. The room was steeped in gloom iron shelves rusted with age, papers smothered in dust and cobwebs. I frowned. "You're telling me the Black Testament is hidden here?"
He nodded. "Yes... wait."
Samuel slid aside one of the shelves, revealing a small painting tucked in the corner. It depicted an elderly British woman in a broken hut, sewing cloth by candlelight. Her ragged skirt pooled around her feet, solitude hanging heavy in the air.
Samuel placed his hand on the frame and spun it gently. At first, it turned slowly. Then faster. The faster it spun, the larger it grew, until it expanded into the size of a door.
He stepped forward and opened it.
Inside was pitch black. We lit flames in our palms magic and cast light into the chamber. Century-old furniture sat cloaked in dust: a ripped floral wallpaper clung to the walls, torn sofas and rotting vases scattered about. At the far end, a metal door loomed, etched with ancient symbols and faded runes.
"We're nearly there," said Samuel.
"The closer we get, the darker it becomes," I whispered.
He smiled. "Just wait. The next part is brilliant."
He opened the metal door to reveal another lift vintage in design, but missing its buttons. The door slammed shut behind us, and the descent began. It plummeted with unsettling speed, and I lost all sense of depth. Then, with a sigh and a click, it stopped.
The door opened.
We stood inside an enormous hall. Chandeliers hung from the ceiling, casting golden light over marble floors. Statues lined the walls each armed with torches or weaponry. Their eyes, all of them, were fixed upon the object at the centre of the room.
A glass case glittered beneath layers of diamonds and crystals. At its pinnacle was a rectangular chamber housing a book black as night, etched in gold.
I had no doubt. It was the Black Testament.
The statues weren't ornamental. Their gaze was vigilant, protective. I turned to Samuel.
"The statues... they're guarding the book, aren't they?"
He nodded. "They sense magic and movement. If an unauthorized soul passes through this hall, the lift locks down. No escape. And the statues attack mercilessly. and the ones with flames., they are the most dangerous They throw fire and they don't miss." He said
I hesitated. "Are you sure the Veil Stone will work?"
He reached into his coat and pulled it out. "Pretty sure. Take my hand."
I grasped his palm, the stone cool against my skin. A strange energy pulsed through me as we walked past the statues.
Still holding hands, Samuel lifted the glass casing with his free hand and retrieved the book. Jet black with gilded edges, the cover bore the words The Black Testament in ancient script.
He set it atop the glass, and I turned the pages with trembling fingers.
There, on page 368, the words shimmered faintly in arcane gold:
The Ritual of the Black Moon.