The Divided Moon

  The abandoned greenhouse behind the Herbology wing wasn’t much to look at, but for the trio, it was perfect. Ivy strangled its glass panes, half the roof was covered in moss, and cold wind slipped through countless cracks. But no one went there anymore, and that was exactly what they needed.

  Scarlett set the cauldron down with a soft clang.

  “Alright. Nobody’s going to check this place. No patrols. No students. We’ll brew here.”

  Tom brushed dust from an old wooden table.

  “It’s freezing. If we get caught pneumonia, at least we’ll have an excuse for skipping classes.”

  Daniel shot him a look.

  “Tom. Not helpful.”

  Scarlett placed the ingredients they already had in a neat line. Lacewing flies—currently sealed in a jar and stewing. Knotgrass. Fluxweed, still bundled, waiting for the next full moon. The rest was up to them to steal, trade, or smuggle.

  “This is it,” Scarlett said. “We start brewing today. If we mess it up after all this… there’s no second chance.”

  Daniel exhaled slowly.

  “Then let’s not mess it up.”

  The First Drop Into the Cauldron

  Scarlett lit the fire with a charm. Orange light flickered across their faces.

  “The Polyjuice Potion has phases,” she said. “Four weeks of brewing. Each stage needs exact timing.”

  She opened the jar of lacewing flies. A heavy, sickly-sweet smell drifted out.

  “These have been stewing for twenty-one days. Perfect.”

  She tipped the jar over the cauldron. The flies slid in with a wet plop, sinking beneath the surface.

  Tom grimaced.

  “How do people drink this without dying?”

  “They don’t think about it,” Scarlett muttered.

  They added knotgrass and fluxweed next—though the fluxweed needed to be added only halfway, so Scarlett left that bundle tied for later. Steam filled the greenhouse, swirling between the broken rafters. The liquid simmered, turning the color of tarnished brass.

  Daniel watched the mixture swirl, feeling strangely uneasy. Something in the air twisted his stomach—not danger, exactly, but something old. Something watching.

  Scarlett didn’t notice. She was fully focused.

  “Now we let it stew until tomorrow. We’ll work in shifts so no one notices we’re missing.”

  Tom stretched his arms behind his head.

  “Great. A month of babysitting swamp juice.”

  Scarlett rolled her eyes.

  “You volunteered—”

  “Only because you threatened to brew it alone and get yourself blown up.”

  Daniel managed a small smile.

  This felt almost normal. Almost.

  Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

  But normal never lasted at Arcanmere.

  The Abandoned Classroom

  Tom was the one who found it.

  Between afternoon lectures, he rushed toward Daniel and Scarlett, face pale.

  “You need to come. Now. And… don’t freak out.”

  “Tom,” Scarlett said sharply, “what did you do?”

  “Nothing! But someone left something for us. Or… maybe not for us, but…”

  He led them toward the oldest corridor of Arcanmere—the one sealed off after the structural collapse years ago. The halls were always colder here, as if the walls still remembered the accident.

  They slipped inside an abandoned classroom where desks sat overturned and chalk dust coated everything like gray snow.

  “It’s there,” Tom whispered, pointing at the blackboard.

  A message was written across it in deep scratches, not chalk.

  Not handwriting.

  Not carved by a tool.

  Something had gouged the letters straight into the stone.

  Scarlett covered her mouth.

  Daniel stepped forward, heart hammering.

  TURN BACK

  THE MOON TAKES WHAT IT OWES.

  Below the message was a crude drawing:

  A circle.

  Split down the middle.

  One half bright.

  One half black as tar.

  A moon.

  A divided moon.

  Daniel swallowed hard.

  “That symbol… I’ve seen it.”

  Scarlett turned to him sharply.

  “Where?”

  He hesitated.

  “In my dreams.”

  The room seemed to tighten around them.

  Tom backed away from the board.

  “So someone knows. Someone knows about the Moon Curse. Or whatever this is.”

  Scarlett shook her head.

  “No one even knows Daniel is having nightmares. We never told anyone.”

  “Then how…” Tom trailed off.

  The temperature dropped further. Daniel felt it again—that strange pressure, like a whisper pressed against his skull.

  He stared at the carved message.

  Turn back.

  The moon takes what it owes.

  Was it a warning?

  Or a threat?

  A Clue They Didn’t Expect

  Scarlett examined the carvings closely, her voice steady though her hands shook.

  “These grooves... They aren’t random. Look at the edges. They burned the stone while cutting it.”

  “Burned?” Tom repeated. “So… magic?”

  “No. Not wand magic.” Scarlett pointed to the cuts again. “Wand marks are smooth and even. These are jagged and… wild.”

  Daniel whispered, “Like claws.”

  The moment he said it, the classroom felt smaller.

  Scarlett slowly nodded.

  “Or something close to claws.”

  Tom snapped upright.

  “No. Nope. We’re not doing monster theories today.”

  Daniel wasn’t listening. Something in his head pulsed—a memory? A whisper? The echo of his dream.

  The moon.

  Always the moon.

  Scarlett touched the split circle symbol.

  “We need to find what this sign means. It’s not random.”

  Daniel’s voice was almost too soft to hear.

  “I think it’s older than Arcanmere.”

  The other two looked at him.

  He didn’t know how he knew that.

  But he was certain.

  A Brewing Storm

  They left the classroom quickly, each glancing over their shoulders. Even the corridor seemed darker as if someone had dimmed the torches.

  That night, they met again in the greenhouse to continue the potion.

  Scarlett added shredded boomslang skin, stirring counterclockwise.

  “Once we add leeches and bicorn horn, we’re halfway done.”

  Tom leaned against the wall, arms folded.

  “We’re not talking about the message, are we?”

  Scarlett kept stirring.

  “Not until we know more.”

  Daniel didn’t respond at all.

  Every time he blinked, he saw the carved words again.

  Turn back.

  The moon takes what it owes.

  Night Falls Hard

  Daniel couldn’t sleep.

  Every time he drifted off, the dream pulled him in.

  The forest again.

  Cold wind slicing the leaves.

  The broken moon hanging above him—one half glowing silver, the other swallowed in shadow.

  But this time, something new appeared.

  A figure.

  At first, he thought it was a person. But as it stepped forward, its outline rippled—sometimes human-shaped, sometimes like a wolf, sometimes like a creature he couldn’t name.

  It whispered without sound, the words crawling directly into his thoughts.

  "You cannot run from what follows the moon."

  Daniel gasped and woke up drenched in sweat.

  His heart hammered so painfully he clutched his chest.

  He stumbled to the window.

  The moon was out, pale and sharp.

  A thin cloud crossed it, dividing its shape in half.

  Exactly like the symbol on the board.

  Daniel whispered to the cold night,

  “What are you trying to tell me?”

  No answer came.

  Only a chilling certainty that someone—or something—had been in his dream with him.

  And it wasn’t going away.