Chapter 100
For the first time since the moonwell crisis began, Mingxi’s face went completely still. It was clear he was not afraid, not angry, but he realized something far, far worse was coming.
Mingxi held Poppy close until her breathing steadied, one hand gliding through her hair, the other cupping the back of her neck.
“Tell me everything,” he murmured.
She did. Every flicker, every pulse, every trembling plea the moonwell had pushed into her chest. When she described the shadow, Mingxi went rigid.
“Describe it again,” he whispered.
Poppy swallowed. “It… wasn’t a creature. Not like the fragment. Not like the revenants. It felt… enormous. Like a hole in the sky. Like standing in sunlight and suddenly the world goes dark.”
Mingxi’s breath stuttered. “You saw an eclipse.”
Poppy blinked. “Not the sun or moon—something shaped like one.”
“That’s not a form,” he whispered. “It’s a mark.”
Before she could ask more, footsteps raced down the corridor. Minghua burst in first, hair tangled, wearing mismatched sandals.
“I felt the wards shake! What’s happening? Why do you look like that? Why do I feel like I’m going to be sick?”
Mingjun grabbed her hood again and yanked her back, panting, “Stop. Running. First.”
Xu Yunlian and Mingzhao followed, both fully dressed despite the hour, faces grave. Caelan barreled in behind them, still tying his coat. Mingxi stood, drawing Poppy gently to her feet but keeping her tucked against his side.
“She saw the moonwell.”
Every elder in the room went still.
Poppy told them the dream carefully, every detail in order.
By the time she finished, Yunlian was pale.
Caelan’s freckles stood out starkly against his unnaturally pale face.
Minghua had both hands over her mouth. Mingjun’s arms were crossed so tightly they looked like they might break.
Mingzhao had closed his eyes, clearly in thought.
Elder Suyin had started muttering prayers under her breath.
Elder Qiao looked like he had aged ten years.
Mingzhao spoke first. “The moonwell is sentient but rarely speaks. If it is calling for help…”
Poppy nodded.
“It’s… afraid.”
The room exhaled sharply, horrified.
“But why would the moonwell fear a fragment?” Minghua whispered.
Poppy shook her head. “It wasn’t afraid of the fragment. The fragment is… dangerous, yes. But what I saw—what I felt—it was afraid of something else.”
Mingxi’s tail tips flicked sharply. “The shadow.”
Poppy nodded again. “Yes.”
Mingzhao opened his eyes slowly. “An eclipse shadow is an omen used only once in our recorded history.”
Caelan frowned. “When?”
Mingzhao turned toward the ancestral shrine in the corner of the sanctuary and then said, “When the Devouring One first appeared.”
Everyone froze.
Poppy felt the air thin, and Mingxi’s arms tightened around her instinctively.
Elder Qiao’s voice shook. “It wasn’t always called the Devouring One.”
Poppy blinked. “What do you mean?”
Mingzhao answered quietly, “In the oldest records, written before the moonwell’s corruption… it was known by another name.”
Mingxi’s ears tilted forward, hyper-focused. “What name?”
Mingzhao hesitated. “The Eclipsed Star.”
Poppy felt the words settle somewhere deep, icy and inevitable.
Caelan swore softly under his breath. “That sounds celestial.”
“It is,” Mingzhao said. “Older than the clans. Older than the moonwell. An ancient celestial entity whose presence always preceded catastrophe.”
Poppy whispered, “Then the fragment… is just part of it.”
Mingzhao nodded once. “A splinter of its will.”
“And the shadow I saw—”
“Is its true form,” Mingzhao finished. “Or the memory of it.”
The room fell silent.
Dead silent.
Poppy finally found her voice again. “But… why is the moonwell calling me? I’m not a Guardian. I’m not part of any celestial line—”
Xu Yunlian stepped closer, her expression soft but scared. “You are moonborn and bear moonwell qi now,” she said gently. “You touched its heart when it was wounded. It marked you.”
“And,” Caelan added, eyes flicking to Poppy’s abdomen, “it marked the life inside you.”
Mingxi’s breath shuddered. “That’s why the fragment recognized her,” he whispered.
“But also why the moonwell reached out.” Poppy looked at her hands, trembling. “I’m connected to it.”
“Yes,” Mingzhao said. “Now the moonwell is begging for help.”
“What did it tell you?” Elder Suyin whispered.
Poppy exhaled shakily. “To run.”
Everyone stiffened.
“Run?” Mingjun echoed. “From what?”
Poppy looked at him helplessly. “I don’t know. I think… from the shadow. From the true Devouring One. From whatever is coming.”
Mingxi’s voice dropped, soft and dangerous. “We’re not running blindly.”
“You may not have a choice,” Caelan said quietly.
All eyes snapped to him, and Caelan cleared his throat nervously.
“The Western Council… sent one final message with me. They believe that if the Devouring One’s true form rises again, even partially…” He swallowed. “The world will end.”
Even the foxfire lanterns dimmed.
Poppy grabbed Mingxi’s hand, squeezing, hoping for some grounding. “What do we do?”
Mingzhao answered, “Everything we must.” He stepped forward. “We prepare to leave Huǒyáo Jìng.”