All that remained in the house of worship was tragedy and isolation. Greenery invaded the holy ground as if they reclaimed it. Perhaps, it was the only thing here alive. Wooden pews were either broken or tarnished. Insects crawled all over them lazily. Booklets of songs and bibles were scattered throughout the floor with torn pages missing, and others misplaced and ripped and crumpled. Headless statues of saints hung on the cracked concrete walls. A couple of them were cloaked by black drapes. They must've abandoned this church during Lent. Miraculously, not all of the stained arch windows weren't smashed.

Moonlight spilled through them.

My father stops at the cobwebbed altar. "We should start setting things before the Moon comes into her full glory. Did you bring the salt?" he asks.

"Yes," I said as I put my bag down and started rummaging through it.

My father continues to give instructions. "Better to ask an Arslan to ignite a fire than any other witch. The candles, please." Dilara happily snaps her finger, sparking a small flame as she walks to the nearest candle by her.

I pulled out the five jars of salt and handed them over to my father, as he turned over to Rose who was about to sit down. He places them in her hands as she awkwardly hugs them. Her brows knitted together. My father politely asks, "Do you know how to make a circle?" She gives him a blank stare. He raises a brow.

She stuttered. "Yes, yes I—" she cleared her throat. "But I'm not a witch?"

He blinks. "But you do know how to make a circle, right?" Rose opens her mouth to protest but my father does not budge. He stares at her until she walks away grumbling.

My father looked at me, smiling. "Don't worry. The salt will help her too. The touch of it is like the start of a cleanse." He pulls my bag up and places it on the first front-row pew. I wait for it to break. When it didn't, I noticed my father pulling another duffle bag from underneath the pew.

I walk over to him as he searches for the rest of the items he needs. There were a couple of things I needed to talk to him about. Dilara and Rose were busy themselves and were out of earshot. My hands felt a little clammy as I approached him.

"Aha! Lo encontre!" He waves a thin purple tissue paper. "Come here," he says as he sits on the bench. I carefully sit down next to him as he lays the purple tissue neatly on his lap. He places his hand over it and mutters a spell under his breath. A second passes and shreds of purple tissue fly into the air as it's snipped and cut. When the last scrap falls on the floor, my father carefully lifts the purple tissue revealing his artwork.

A crescent moon with tiny stars hanging, then swaying as if being lulled.

It was enchanting.

"This is supposed to be a night of celebration." He stares at it longingly as if he were imagining another night in a different world. "There would've been twenty or forty tables. But more people would've shown up and had to stand. My mother and sisters would've filled at least three tables with all your favorite foods and sweets. My sisters might've bickered with each other whose food was the worst although none would've been bad. Tal vez embrujaran la comida para sepa mas rica. My mother would've fixed it before anyone ate it. Y tu tío Alejandro, he would've been dancing with every woman he could convince. None of them would've said no." 

He corrects himself as he remembers. "Maybe just one witch. My older brother, Rogelio, would've been preparing a speech about the importance of uniting yourself with the Moon and the commitment you were about to make. But we would be there to guide you and welcome you into the eternal bounding of the Moon." He then faces me, whispering. "Your mother would be there walking near the circle, observing with secrecy and wickedness. Puedo ver esos ojos verdes desde aquí." He placed his hand over his heart.

He still loves her. Death couldn't rob him of this.

My father goes on, "Your cousins would've been there too. You would've loved them. They couldn't wait for you to grow up and play with them. Paulina, my sister, Maria Ofelia's daughter, carried you the most when she came to visit. She didn't want to let you go." He swallowed. "They all loved you, Nora. Siempre fuistes amada."

Abuelita Rosario. Tio Rogelio, Tia Ana Sofia, Tio Alejandro. Tia Maria Ofelia, Tia Emiliana, Tio Jose Eduardo, Tia Gloria. Tia Yahdira. Tio Casimiro. Tia Paloma. Tio Rafael. Valentina. Daneri. Gerardo. Pablo. Paulina. Citlali. Cristoval. Itzel. Harim. Tia Elvira. Amá. Matias. Names after names. Dead after dead.

He traces the outline of the purple tissue paper. "A hundred of these would've been hung in our home and would've stayed till sunrise." The little stars swayed.

This night was meant to happen on my fifteenth birthday. 'La Noche del Quince' wasn't only a ceremonial commitment. It was my father presenting me to the Moon for the first time, and making me her protector. I would've worn the most beautiful gown with sparkling diamond heels. The stars would be jealous of them.

Instead, I'm a twenty-two-year-old woman wearing a long black ruffle skirt with purple tights you couldn't see. At the very least my boots had a few inches on them. It wasn't an ideal outfit for a celebration, but I'm grateful for being allowed to solidify my union with the Moon.

I will do whatever it takes to make this right.

I couldn't help but think of my brother, Matias. Shouldn't he have been doing this too? If he had been here, it would've been his night. I looked at my father, his gaze fixated on the purple crescent moon tissue paper. Would Matias look like him? My heart ached.

I cleared my throat. "Could you teach me how to do that? The spell you just did." My father nods, happily. "Yes, yes. Of course." He hands me a fresh purple tissue paper and sits on his lap again. I mimic his movements, my fingers flexing as I announce the spell. A tingling sensation rises at my palms. The tissue paper is then shredded, snipped, and cut. Once done, I lift it—a duplicate of my father's crescent moon.

"Fast learner," he says, proudly.

I smiled. "Well, I am learning from the best."

He shakes his head, his jaw tightening. "I'm sorry, I kept your magic dormant. We only wanted to keep you safe, and it was only meant to be for a short time. Your mother and I didn't think I would be away this long. My tia Elvira wanted to teach you and she probably would've been a better teacher than me. But I didn't let her. I already missed so much of your life. You were my daughter. Eso me pertenece como tu brujo padre. I couldn't let them take that away from me too." he then said softly. "I'm so sorry, pequeña. I only wanted to be a worthy person to you if we ever meet again. I know I'm your father, and I know haven't been a good one—"

"How could you think you're worthless?" I looked down as the little girl inside of me gasped for air. "Tu fuistes mi héroe. You might've not been there physically, but you were in my dreams. You slayed the monsters for me. You protected me. Just like I always knew you would." I met his teary gaze. "Gracias, por todo aunque no lo supera. Siempre vas a ser mi héroe y...mi papá."

A knot was building in my throat. I looked away and abruptly stood up from the bench. "The Moon is almost at its peak. Don't you think so?" My father then stood up, clearing his throat and blinking rapidly. "Yes, yes I should—y la bolsa?" He turned picking up the duffle bag and placed it over his shoulder. "Voy a tallar los sellos de la luna." And he promptly walked to the center of the church.

There was much more I wanted to say and needed to tell him. Like what my last words were to my mother. Later. I will tell him once this is all over. He can hate me then.

I unzipped my duffle bag and pulled out some of the books I brought. Everyone else was doing their part in making this ritual happen. Dilara was almost done lighting every candle and maybe anything she could burn. The church glowed harmoniously. Rose was perfecting the circle. Her brows knitted together as she cupped the salt into a line. My father close by her wielded a knife with a black blade as he carved sigils into stone. I saw him earlier whispering an incantation to the knife, and I had no doubt it made the knife sharp enough to cut through the concrete floor.

I only needed to do my part.

My mind kept wandering back to the Book of Lunaris. The moon was perfect tonight. A new cycle for a new beginning. A transformation. The ritual followed similarly to the binding ceremony that was about to occur. But the power of lunaris was a mystery. The ancestors wrote theories upon theories. Some parts I couldn't read because an older language was written. Sometimes it merges two languages, like a secret code.

My father claps his hands, and a roll of thunder comes after. "Done. Is everyone else finished?" He had successfully engraved each phase of the Moon—all eight. Dilara and Rose nodded as they came over to the pews. I grabbed the Book of Lunaris and carried it as I walked to my father. Perhaps, he could answer some questions for me.

My father dusts the dirt off his priestly robes. Before he moves to connect all of the moon phases down the middle where I would stand in a few minutes, he hastily says. "After tonight, we are leaving." I stopped in my tracks.

"And where are we going?" I asked.

He faces me. "Somewhere safe. You can't stay in Oregon or this country. Every witch and warlock is after me, and they're starting to find out about you. I don't know how they found out, but we must leave no later than tonight. Somewhere safe." he then admitted. "Ireland."

I couldn't hide my shock or anger. "You want me to hide in Ireland?"

He frowns slightly. "You sound like you don't want to leave. Nora, this place isn't safe. It's not safe for either of us."

"And I suppose Ireland is safe for us?" I snapped. I couldn't go to Ireland. There were stories my mother told me about Ireland and the faeries that ruled there. They don't like witches. And certainly will not like me, despite being half fae.

As if my father read my mind, he said. "If you're worried about them, you don't have to. They owe your mother a debt. They must repay it." Debt or not, I didn't care. I won't be going to Ireland.

I gripped the edges of the book in my arms as I walked. "I'm not going to Ireland because I'm not going to let the people who killed my family live their lives without facing punishment. They need to pay for what they've done." My father's mouth parts, but I quickly say. "You have fought alone, but you don't need to anymore. You have me. I can put an end to the council and Helene—"

"You will do nothing," he says curtly.

I couldn't believe what my ears were hearing. "Why not?" I demanded. "You did it all by yourself all these years. Why can't I do it? I want justice for our family as much as you do." I pull the book out and show him. He glances at it. "The Book of Lunaris. I've been reading about it. We should try—" My father marches toward me and snatches the book out of my hand like a toy.

He stands in front of me, his voice hardens. "Lunaris isn't magic. It's power. Dangerous power." he comes closer. "You said you read it. Then, do you remember reading the part about having to die?" Dilara and Rose's eyes both go wide. I might've glazed over that small detail.

"Lunaris isn't a mere rebirth ritual. The Moon must declare you worthy of her power. And if not, then you died for nothing." He tries to convince me more. "One of my sisters, Ana Sofia, tried to take on the power of Lunaris and we almost lost her. The Moon has given us her share of blessings and gifts. I told you, the Moon has a dark side but not all darkness can be controlled."

He pleads once and for all. "The Moon will accept you as her daughter. But I cannot allow her to take you from me. You're my firstborn. My only daughter. I don't want to lose another child."

Matias.

But I couldn't simply ignore this indigestible wrath eating away at my bones, blood, and heart. It needed to be satisfied. I hid myself. I lowered my voice at times because I was afraid I would hurt someone's ears. I held it in for a very long time. I endure. Me aguante por años.

My gaze rolled to Dilara, her face split. Half worried and half conflicted. We had talked about the infinite ways we could get rid of Helene Worth and her council. But now, she looked to be reconsidering our plans. I turned back to my father, his eyes desperate. Don't challenge the Moon. Don't challenge the Moon. They seemed to say.

"You will not lose me," I promised.

Everyone seemed to release a breath of relief. The spirits laughed and laughed and laughed until they were gasping for air. "Good. Let's start the ritual then." My father says, walking away with the Book of Lunaris and sending it across to sit on the bench.

I head over to the circle of salt. I lift my foot an inch, not wanting to disturb the first binding. Or Rose's perfect circle. My father clapped his hands as a resounding vibration went through the church with great potency awakening the sigils in a steady glow. The lines went down the middle connecting all phases of the Moon. My magic stirred.

My father moved underneath the broken glass dome. He closed his eyes. Using the same swift arc movements he did earlier, but these were more precise and needed more of his magic and self. Yet, I can feel his magic weaving upwardly. I can feel how similar it was to mine. The grief. The rage. The fear. It took the same root as mine. My father stretched his arms out and began a chant.

The Moon graced us with her milky, glimmering blue presence. She sees it all—the depths of our souls, where our hearts lie in the quiet darkness.

The moonlight sinks all around us. My father's voice booms. "Luna sagrada y maravillosa tienes otra hija en este mundo. Te presento a mi hija, Nora Selena Del Luna-McGrath." The Moon shifts her light upon me. I tilted my head back, staring at her as she licked my skin. Chills and tingles run through me. She grazes over my cheekbone like she had done with my father earlier.

The spirits remain silent.

"Como la Madre de la Noche, te suplico que tomes a mi hija como tu se fuera tuya." The sigils intensify. "Que viva en tu rostro. En tu bendición. En tu poder." The Moon shined brighter. Her light went inside my head, slithering like a snake in a maze. She wants me to go to her.

My father announces, excitedly. "The Moon sees you as her daughter. Do you feel it? Do you feel her? Accept her and become a protector." he waited. "Mija?" My magic exploded. Cold harsh winds blasted through the stained windows. Glass shattered everyone. Candles were blown out. The church pews rattled. My fingers trembled. The salt Rose laid spun into the shape of a tornado.

"Nora!" My father shouted, trying to break through the barriers of magic. Dilara comes behind me and also tries to disarm it. But it was all hopeless. I could not be saved. I plucked the shard from underneath my wrist. Grimm would've checked my wrists. He would've known what I was about to do. They cry out my name. My fingers curled around the shard, cold and jagged.

I met my father's gaze. "I will be back. I promise." His eyes went wide. I flip the shard and strike into my stomach. The spirits shrieked.

My magic withered back into my body. The wind is seized. Burning pain spreads in my lower abdomen, and hot liquid spills between my fingers. I stumble once, then again. On the third my knees buckle and my head hits the concentre. My breaths are short. I keep my gaze on the Moon and whisper the spell of lunaris even as my eyes shut. Some things were worth dying for, and it was power.

The last thing I hear is the sound of rolling thunder in the sky.