Tales Of The MoonMarked

Sera POV

The sound of my hurried footsteps echoed across the campus quad as I darted between students, one arm clutching my stack of textbooks while the other tried to balance a half-eaten granola bar. At twenty, I'd perfected the art of survival—stretching every dollar, not wasting a single dime, reusing notebooks until the pages threatened to fall out, and hunting through thrift stores for clothes that looked more "vintage chic" than worn thin.

My sneakers, patched at the heel, slapped against the pavement as I slipped into my lecture hall just before the professor closed the door. I slid into the back row, chest heaving slightly.

"Made it," I whispered to myself, trying not to draw attention.

The economics lecture dragged on forever, the professor's boring voice washing over me like static. I scribbled notes anyway, half from habit, half because I couldn't stand the idea of wasting time, even if the words blurred together in my tired brain.

My birthday was tomorrow and I was turning twenty-one.

A big number. The kind that was supposed to mean celebration, champagne, and family dinners. For me, it meant little more than another candle on a cheap cupcake I'd probably buy for myself. Another year older, another reminder that I had no one waiting on the other end of a phone call. No traditions to hold onto. Just me, scraping together something that looked like a life.

The professor kept talking about supply and demand, but my mind wandered to the stack of bills waiting on my kitchen counter. Rent was due in three days, and I was already figuring out which meals I could skip to make the numbers work. The scholarship covered tuition, but everything else—food, books, the tiny apartment that smelled like the last tenant's cigarettes—that was all on me.

I looked around at my classmates, most of them typing notes on laptops that probably cost more than I made in two months at my campus job. Some were already checking their phones, probably making dinner plans that didn't involve ramen noodles for the fourth night in a row.

When the lecture finally ended, I stuffed my notes into my worn backpack and headed out, only to spot Bri leaning casually against the wall.

Bri was impossible to miss. Her blond curls caught the light like they'd been styled for a commercial, her designer bag slung over her shoulder with the kind of easy confidence that came from never having to check a price tag. Bri came from old money, the kind that had her family's name carved on university buildings, but she had never made me feel less than.

"You're late," Bri announced, though her grin gave away her excitement.

"I was literally in class," I said, tugging my bag higher on my shoulder.

"Yes, yes, academic suffering and all that." Bri linked our arms before I could object. "Now, important business. Tomorrow is your birthday, and I refuse to let you spend it alone with ramen noodles and Netflix. We're going shopping."

I groaned. "Bri…"

"No arguments. You're coming. You're going to try on things you'll swear you can't afford, and I'm going to buy at least one of them for you. That's final."

"You can't just…"

"Watch me." Her eyes sparkled with that determined look I knew too well. "Besides, you have that internship interview next week. You need to look the part."

"I look fine," I protested weakly.

"You look like you're about to ask someone for spare change." She squeezed my arm lovingly. "Which is exactly why we're fixing this. No best friend of mine is walking into Hoblox looking like she shops only in the clearance section."

"I do shop only in the clearance section."

"Exactly my point."

I opened my mouth, caught the sparkle in Bri's eyes, and sighed. With Bri, fighting back was pointless.

The fancy shopping district buzzed with life, glass storefronts reflecting the late afternoon sun. Couples walked arm in arm, loaded down with bags, while street performers filled the air with music. Normally, I avoided this part of town. It was too polished, too full of reminders of what I didn't have. But with Bri dragging me along like a golden retriever on a mission, I let myself enjoy it.

"Ground rules," Bri announced as the boutique doors swung open. "No arguing, no price-checking, and no running away when I shove something amazing at you."

"So basically, I'm a mannequin today," I said dryly.

"Exactly. A very cute, very underdressed mannequin."

The boutique smelled like expensive perfume and dreams I couldn't afford. Everything was arranged like art—silk scarves draped just right, jewelry sparkling under perfect lighting. I felt instantly out of place in my patched jeans and thrift store cardigan.

Bri grabbed a glittering dress off the rack and held it against my frame. "See? Instant upgrade."

"That looks like it costs more than my tuition."

"Which is why it's a gift. Stop ruining my fun."

"Bri, seriously, I can't let you—"

"Can't let me what? Spend my own money on my best friend?" She waved dismissively. "My parents give me more in a month than you see all semester. Let me do this."

The casual way she said it, not mean, just matter-of-fact, made my chest tighten. Not with shame, exactly, but with that familiar ache of being reminded just how different our worlds were.

I sighed but followed as Bri moved between racks like a general planning a war. I walked behind her, laughing despite myself as my best friend piled outfits into my arms.

"You know I'm never going to wear half this stuff," I muttered.

"Then you'll wear the other half. Problem solved."

"Do you even know my style?"

"Yes. Your style is 'practical, and could survive the apocalypse.' You need me." Bri shoved a sequined top at me. "Go. Try this on. And the skirt. Oh! And this jacket—very main-character energy."

"Main-character energy?"

"You know, like you're the star of your own movie instead of the broke side character who disappears after the first scene."

I groaned, clutching the pile to my chest as I walked toward the fitting rooms. "You're insane."

"Guilty as chaaarged," Bri sang after me.

Inside the changing room, I wiggled into the sequined top and immediately regretted it. Too flashy, too loud, too…not me. I stared at myself in the mirror, making a face at how the sequins caught the light like a disco ball.

When I stepped out, Bri gasped dramatically. "Oh my god. That's it. That's the one."

"It's horrible."

"It's perfect." Bri lifted her phone. "Now turn. Slowly. I need angles."

"Delete that right now."

"Absolutely not. These are going on my vision board."

Despite myself, I laughed. The sound surprised me—real, unguarded laughter. For a moment, I forgot about empty bank accounts and the endless grind of surviving. It was just me and Bri, two friends playing dress-up like we were kids again.

By the third outfit, I was rolling my eyes at every crazy piece Bri forced on me, but I couldn't deny it was fun.

"Okay, this one's cute," Bri admitted as I stepped out in a simple navy dress. "Classic. You could actually wear this to your internship interview."

I turned in the mirror, surprised at how…normal I looked. Put-together. Like someone who belonged. "Maybe," I said softly.

"Not maybe. Yes." Bri folded her arms, satisfied. "We're buying it."

I hesitated, the weight of the price tag pressing on my chest. But Bri was already on to the next rack, distracted by a display of silk scarves shimmering in the window light.

"Look at this one," Bri said, holding a pale pink scarf against her neck. "Doesn't it make my eyes pop?"

I shook my head fondly, kneeling to tie a loose shoelace. "You already know you look good in everything."

"True," Bri said cheerfully.

When I straightened again—

He was there.

An elderly man stood beside me, so close I could see the faint lines carved into his pale face. His clothes were dark, plain, and far too heavy for the warm afternoon. He hadn't walked up—he was simply there. His pale eyes locked onto mine, sharp enough to pin me in place.

"The prophecy

has awakened, child," he said softly, but his words carried like a bell ringing in my chest. "Your time begins tomorrow."