Whispers Before the Moon

Previously

…His gaze held mine for a moment longer, a silent promise, or perhaps a warning. “Until our paths cross again, Elara.” And then, with a final, enigmatic smile, he turned and disappeared into the milling crowd, leaving me standing there, the wooden bird clutched tight in my hand, the echo of his voice still resonating in the quiet chambers of my heart. The sky-blue ribbon for Lyra lay forgotten on the stall. I knew, with a certainty that chilled me to the bone, that my dreams were no longer mere figments of imagination. They were harbingers, and the man who haunted them had just stepped into my waking world. The whispers before the moon had begun.