Long ago, the Moon decided to visit Earth. She gracefully landed and began to wander through the night. But another wander walked the starless night. Too occupied with his thoughts and eyes seeking a glimpse of light in the dark, the mindless warlock bumped into the most beautiful woman he ever saw. Her lips curled disdainfully. Through the thick darkness, he saw her beauty. She was illuminating like a star but he knew no star was as radiant as her. He was starstruck. 

The celestial woman said sharply, 'Do you not see where you are going?' The warlock blushed. 'I'm sorry, I could not see.' The Moon thought, warlocks and their mind drunk on power. She did not have to stay with the warlock any longer. He apologized and she feigned acceptance. Except, the warlock then said, 'But now, I can see.' His gaze met hers, and the way he looked at her seemed to erase the irritation she felt for him.

She became curious. She pointed a finger into the pitch-black sky. 'Your eyes were in the sky. Why?' The warlock replied, coolly, 'I was looking for the light. Stars or the moon.' The celestial woman approached him and asked. 'You're looking for the stars and the moon for light? Why not wait for the sun?' A whimsical smile took over his lips and he whispered to her in the vast night as his heart took over his tongue. 'Because the Moon is my light and I search for her under the blazing sun. She gives me solace in my solitude, the Sun burns my true self.' 

An overwhelming frantic began to beat inside her chest. She took his face in her and pressed her lips against the man's smooth skin. She came the next night and kissed him in the same spot. And the next day after that.

Each time she kissed him, she left her mark on his cheekbone.

Once my father finished telling me the story about the Moon, his finger reached for his cheekbone. "It's been said the moles on your skin are where your past lover kissed you the most. The Moon left her love amongst her children. My brothers and sisters have these lunares as you and I do." His eyes drifted down my cheekbone. "My nieces and nephews were also marked. It sounds unbelievable and I don't know whether the Moon ever came down but, maybe that's why we called them lunares because she blessed us. Ella nos dio más poder para enfrentar la noche." 

(She gave us more power to face the night.)

I lifted my finger grazing my lunares, I never thought anything special about them. They were brown dots to me. But as I looked at my father touching his cheekbone and hearing the story about the Moon, these lunares were like the blood and bone that made our bodies work. The air that we breathed. The mark of the Moon seeped through our skin and made its presence known.

His eyes were lured into nostalgic memory, and his heartache followed. "My family was from a small town called 'El Arco'. There were eight of us, four boys and four girls. My mother raised us all. She was strict and did not tolerate any disrespect. She loved us, but only after we parted from her did she ever show it." There was no bitterness, just a way of life. "I was the fifth child and oftentimes I was forgotten of existence by family members or the townspeople because I wasn't talented or well-liked as my brothers and sisters. But my brothers and sisters, they loved me despite my shortcomings. However, that was not enough for me. I wanted to be useful. I wanted to fix things." 

He pauses, swallowing the grief. "Although my family lived in a small town we traveled to the border between Mexico and the U.S. My family was responsible for guaranteeing safe passage for those who needed to travel at night. Whatever the reason the person had to leave, we did not question it. We ensured their safety because we knew the night could be dangerous without the guidance of the moon. Between the connection of the moon and our magic, we were able to help people walk through the night without fear.

"But sometimes the journey is not always successful. Injuries and medical conditions happen and it slows us down and if we slow down then, we'll get caught. I started learning and teaching myself healing remedies. I used plants and herbs to create natural medicine with a bit of magic." 

He brings his gaze down at the table, staring at the sheet of paper. "As I delved into spell books of medicinal magic, I found a few sowed pages describing how dark magic can stitch torn skin without the help of a needle. Just my bare hands, with my magic. I didn't need to make salves or potions anymore. But it made me hungry, the power of dark magic makes one feel limitless. I wanted to be limitless. I always wanted to be resourceful to my family." 

He rubs his knuckles. "Still, we couldn't help everyone cross. I couldn't save everyone. Mexico's Council was always afraid my family would expose witches and warlocks, so they constantly tried to restrict us but they needed my family to have eyes on the border. The council always wanted to know who was coming in or out. Witches, warlocks, wolves, any supernatural creatures."

It was a lot to take in, the temples of my forehead began to throb. "Mexico also has a council of witches and warlocks?" I asked.

My father nods his head. "Yes. Few countries have a council. Other countries are united under one like the South American Council and the European Council. Witches and warlocks are stronger in numbers and all everyone wants is protection. It's what the U.S. Council wanted, to be stronger. They wanted to be united with Canada, Mexico, El Salvador, Guatemala, Belize, Honduras, and many more countries. They claimed they wanted to be collaborative and be united as one but they wanted power." 

His knuckles turn white. "We heard rumors of the witches and warlocks going missing in the U.S. and they're still going missing today. Except, they now blame me. A united council was never going to happen still, we played along for the sake of peace. They sent their first ambassador witch who had the gift of foreseeing the future."

Dilara had mentioned witches and warlocks going missing but I didn't know they were still going missing. And the one-eyed witch or seer, Dilara had said her name and my father did too earlier.

"Helene Worth," I murmured and for a moment the spirits in my head made a chattering noise.

My father abruptly stood up, his jaw tight. "You know her. How do you know her?" He squeezed his eyes, he looked hesitant to tell me. I leaned closer as my head continued with a dull throb.

He opens his eyes as his decision is made. "The summer I met your mother was also the same summer Helene Worth came to visit my family's home to negotiate a unified council but everything went to complete shit." 

I raised a brow, my father went on. "This feud with this country's council started with her. Helene Worth was the daughter of Reginald Worth, he was a well-known warlock and council member of the U.S. before his daughter took over. He sent Helene and used her to persuade my family. She talked about a new world coming, one that was made for people like us. Witches and warlocks would be able to cultivate and create with their magic. We could practice magic the way it should be practiced. We wouldn't have to hide from anyone. It all sounds like a perfect dream but seers are unreliable because their interpretations could be wrong. They might see it one way when it could be another way.

"Your mother, on the other hand, sensed death from Helene. And one thing I understood about your mother's power is that although the future is uncertain, death is definitive. Your mother's words always rang true. I trusted her." You can march through challenges and fight the invincible but you could never escape Death and I'm not surprised about Mother being right.

He pressed his lips together, almost reluctant to say the next part but he did. "Helene started to notice we were not interested in her proposal but she stayed longer than she should have. She and your mother were friendly in the beginning, but as the days passed the fake smiles vanished. Your mother tried her best to ignore her and not involve herself with any witch politics but Helene truly brought out your mother's horrible temper. Helene didn't understand the alliance between your mother's family and ours, we simply told her we were business partners which was not a complete lie. 

But it bothered her how much we sided with her. She didn't know what your mother was, she knew we were hiding your mother's true identity. She finally figured it out only, it cost her an eye." My eyes widened at the insinuation my father was making. He turned around and walked over to the corner of piled books. I blinked a couple of times, processing the last bit of information.

Helene Worth was known as The One-Eyed Seer, The High Priestess. I never thought she would be connected to my mother. Had my mother given her the nickname? Sure, I remember the times Mother had gotten upset, and sometimes her anger was not the prettiest thing about her but she never let it get the best of her. But this was before I was born, I always wondered what my mother was like when she was younger. I suppose, reckless, like me.

My father finished rummaging in the corner and pulled a black duffle bag out. Books toppled over and splayed across the floor, funny enough they didn't seem to be out of place. He set the bag on the table, making a loud thud. Curiosity piqued my interest. What's inside the bag? My father pulled a brown sheath and revealed the long, thin, steel dagger. Even in this dimly lighted room, I could see the engraved lettering and specs of dried blood.

He placed it down. At a closer look, the blood looked old still I said. "Recently used?"

"The last person who used it was your mother and she took out Helene Worth's left eye." I lifted my gaze. "She would have never lost her eye if she didn't kill your mother's father. Your grandfather came to enjoy his last summer vacation with his daughter. He was already dying but he still had more time and Helene Worth reduced his time. It was supposed to be a summer of bright color sunsets."

I could only imagine what Mom must've felt when they killed her father, the voices whispering in her head right before her father took his last breath and her running to him only to be too late to save him.

"Your mother mourned her father silently, I think it almost killed her." He released a breath. 

"When your mother found out that Helene Worth killed her father she wanted her life except, taking her life would be too easy. She wanted her to suffer. To live each day with the memory of her father, a man's life who she should have never touched. The eyes of a powerful seer who saw everything into the future had many admirers and fanatics. Everyone wants to know what their future holds. Especially if what you saw became real. Your mother struck the dagger in her eye, and Helene Worth received the wrath of the banshee with her grieving heart. No one was going to believe Helene's prophecies or foretellings, not without missing one eye. Your mother succeeded for a while, nobody sought their future with her."

My eyes glanced down at the dagger and my hand ached for it. "It's yours." My father said, and I grabbed the hilt of it. It feels weightless, the urge to throw it appears in my mind. Instead, I imagine the dagger swiftly going through someone's eye. How efficient. My father said my mother took out her left eye. I'm grateful to be the one to take out her right eye.

I keep my gaze on the dagger, reading the engraved letters. "She is the one, isn't she? She killed my grandfather. She killed your—our family. She—" I bite the inside of my cheek briefly. "She killed Mom and Matias, didn't she?" He didn't need to speak, his silence spoke for him.

My father looks at the ceiling. "I had a brother, his name was Alejandro. He came to the U.S. because he wanted to see the snow and he said he was going to bring back a snowflake. A month passed and we stopped hearing from him. I had a sister, her name was Emiliana. She went to the U.S. to look for Alejandro and after two weeks, we stopped hearing from her. Months passed and we heard nothing from the U.S. Council of witches and warlocks. My mother didn't want any of my brothers and sisters to go looking for them. She said we should wait and it broke her.

My mother never stopped looking at the door. Every time she heard someone would knock she would open it. Every time someone would open the door she would rush to it." A lump formed in my throat. "She progressively got worse. She started leaving the door unlocked because she didn't want her children to struggle to open the door, she just wanted them to walk through those doors and be home. For one full year, my mother lived this way and she died never seeing my brother and sister again. We don't know what happened to them. There were no bodies, no clues, no traces left of them."

His watery eyes met mine. "The only good thing in life was your birth, you were about to be two when my mother passed away. After that, my brothers and sisters decided we needed answers. We went to talk to the U.S. council but they didn't bother to show their faces. We were angry and hurt but we left. The rest of my family was going to head back to Mexico but before they left they visited us in the woods where we hid in a small cottage. Everyone loved you. Everyone wanted to carry you. Make you laugh and smile. You made everyone happy." Tears pricked my eyes, I never thought I was capable of making someone happy. Let alone one person but so many. I didn't want him to continue but I knew he had to finish the story. "We ate, we laughed, and we cried that day. I should have known it was a goodbye. I wish the spirits had spoken to your mother then. I might've survived the tragedy that would strike."

I croaked. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry I don't—I don't remember." And a single tear falls.

My father smiles, painfully. "I know. You were a baby when they killed my whole family. My brothers and sisters. My nieces and nephews. All of them were gone. The house I once called home was swallowed by the earth. At least they died when we embraced each other and loved each other. They died at home, not on foreign soil and that's the only kindness Helene permitted for the rest of my family."

But I couldn't accept it. She had no right to kill them. She—She—She needs to die. She needs to be punished for the pain and stolen memories I could never have. My eyes gaze down at the scripted word on the dagger, my knuckles turning white from gripping it too hard. My mother should have been the one to give me this dagger. This was hers. She was supposed to give it to me.

"We talked about living in Mexico for five years and then in Ireland for five years and then from there, we would go anywhere around the world. It would be away from all the noise, somewhere quiet and calm for you and your mother." He was still smiling but for all the wrong reasons. His eyes were wishing for something that could never happen. He longed for it, brutally. "I would've taught you magic and your mother would've taught you to control the spirits in your head. Like it was always meant to be." These were all remnants of a dream.

We were too far into the future and the reality was missing and lost but the past still clung onto our skins with teeth. As much as I want to be the little girl standing next to me wishing for her dad to come save her I can't be her. I learned to wipe my tears. But I still want to be his daughter, I want him to teach me magic. He was still here and that should count for something.

I laid the dagger down on top of the bag. I cross my arms and pinch myself to stop any more tears from coming out. "So it's true then, you were there for two years in my life?" Mother had said to Refugio, my father never left me. He never abandoned me.

"I never wanted to leave any of you. Not a day goes by that I don't feel the agony of leaving you all." And I could hear it in his voice, the torment of separation.

He was there, he never wanted to leave me. He had to leave because he probably knew he was next to be killed. Not all members of the Del Luna family practiced dark magic only my father did. It was only a cover-up of the real reason why they killed them. Helene's Worth thirst for power. The U.S. council's hunger for more witches and warlocks in other countries.

The anger was rising in my chest and poisoning my heart. I understood why my father had to be on the run from the council but I at least wish he offered me to come running with him. I wish he came after Mom and Matias died. I thought he would've come because if they were gone then, he had to come home.

Right?