Reign of the Forsaken Moon - Chapter 25: Chapter 25
You are reading Reign of the Forsaken Moon, Chapter 25: Chapter 25. Read more chapters of Reign of the Forsaken Moon.
The flames didn’t come from the sky.
They rose from the earth.
At first, the ground rumbled softly beneath Moonclaw—an almost imperceptible tremor. Then a shockwave cracked through the castle floor, splintering stone, shattering glass. The Great Hall shuddered, its crystal chandeliers crashing in a thousand pieces.
Mira stormed into the war chamber. “She’s here.”
Seraphina didn’t ask who. She already knew.
The Phoenix Gate
It was a relic of a forgotten age—The Phoenix Gate, sealed at the southern cliffs, where the flame-blooded ancestors once walked into exile. No one had touched it for three centuries.
Until now.
Aurelia Stormfang arrived not with a battalion, but with a flame that devoured steel.
She stood before the gate in a robe of molten scarlet, her hair the color of wildfire, her eyes burning with ancient gold. Two massive crimson wolves flanked her—beasts born of fire and blood.
She raised a single hand.
The gate opened—not with hinges, but with an explosion of light and heat that shook the mountains.
The Proclamation
Seraphina arrived at the high balcony of Moonclaw with Darian at her side, Mira and the court assembled behind her. Her children watched from the shadowed archways, protected, but close enough to see.
Aurelia’s voice echoed across the valley like thunder.
> “I am Aurelia Stormfang, daughter of Lysandra Flame-Blood, heir to the first fire!
This throne was stolen from my line—my mother burned in exile, her name stripped from the stone!
I come not for vengeance, but for justice!
I invoke the Law of Flame, and challenge Seraphina of Moonclaw to a Trial of Blood!
One throne. One queen.
The flame will choose.”
Gasps erupted.
The Law of Flame hadn’t been used in five hundred years. It allowed any direct blood descendant of the Flame Queen to issue a challenge for rule—through single combat or magical rite.
Mira whispered, “She’s within her right.”
Seraphina’s voice was steel. “Then I’ll answer her.”
The Battle Council
That night, the war chamber was silent.
“Accepting the challenge makes it real,” Darian said. “You could refuse.”
“And look weak,” Mira countered. “The council would fracture. Some already waver. Stormfang blood has its supporters.”
“She doesn’t just want my crown,” Seraphina said. “She wants to undo everything we’ve built. Unity. Peace. Hope.”
Kael stood beside her. “Then burn her.”
His voice didn’t tremble.
Lyra clutched Seraphina’s hand. “Win. For us.”
The Trial Circle
At dawn, the Trial Circle was carved anew in the heart of the valley. Flame-runes etched into stone by ancient magic pulsed around its edge.
Seraphina entered in black battle leathers, a red cloak draped across her shoulders. Her weapons were simple: her hands, her wolf, and the fire within.
Aurelia awaited in a robe that shimmered like lava, wielding a double-bladed spear of obsidian.
“Once,” she said, “my mother knelt here and was banished for loving the wrong Alpha. Now I stand to reclaim what was taken.”
“You came too late,” Seraphina replied. “I’ve already lit the world back to life.”
Then the runes flared—
And the battle began.
Fire Against Fire
They clashed in a roar of elemental fury.
Aurelia’s spear cut the wind, every strike trailing tongues of fire. Seraphina answered with her bare hands, calling on the heat inside her—not the rage of vengeance, but the fire of love, loss, and rebirth.
The ground cracked beneath their feet.
Flames arced through the air.
Aurelia shouted spells in the tongue of the ancients—one of them almost shattered Seraphina’s ribcage with a blast of searing wind. But Seraphina countered with instinct, drawing power from the wyrm-scale shard Eira had given her. Ice laced her fire—controlled. Focused.
“You fight like a queen,” Aurelia growled.
“I am one,” Seraphina answered—and shifted.
Luna Ascendant
Her wolf was not the one that had died in the fire years ago.
It was reborn—silver-gold, radiant, crowned with fire.
The crowd gasped as the Twice-Born Luna rose.
Aurelia shifted, too—into a massive crimson wolf with embered eyes and smoke trailing from her fangs. The circle shook with their roars.
They collided in mid-air—teeth, claws, flame.
But in the final moment, as Aurelia lunged with killing intent, Seraphina dropped low, spun, and drove her aura into Aurelia’s chest—not to kill, but to strip away her fury.
And whispered:
> “You are not her. You are not what they made you.
You are free to be more.”
Aurelia collapsed.
Mercy and Power
Seraphina stood over her rival as the flames died.
The crowd waited.
She could end it.
But she didn’t.
Instead, she offered a hand.
Aurelia, bleeding and breathless, looked at her.
And took it.
They rose from the earth.
At first, the ground rumbled softly beneath Moonclaw—an almost imperceptible tremor. Then a shockwave cracked through the castle floor, splintering stone, shattering glass. The Great Hall shuddered, its crystal chandeliers crashing in a thousand pieces.
Mira stormed into the war chamber. “She’s here.”
Seraphina didn’t ask who. She already knew.
The Phoenix Gate
It was a relic of a forgotten age—The Phoenix Gate, sealed at the southern cliffs, where the flame-blooded ancestors once walked into exile. No one had touched it for three centuries.
Until now.
Aurelia Stormfang arrived not with a battalion, but with a flame that devoured steel.
She stood before the gate in a robe of molten scarlet, her hair the color of wildfire, her eyes burning with ancient gold. Two massive crimson wolves flanked her—beasts born of fire and blood.
She raised a single hand.
The gate opened—not with hinges, but with an explosion of light and heat that shook the mountains.
The Proclamation
Seraphina arrived at the high balcony of Moonclaw with Darian at her side, Mira and the court assembled behind her. Her children watched from the shadowed archways, protected, but close enough to see.
Aurelia’s voice echoed across the valley like thunder.
> “I am Aurelia Stormfang, daughter of Lysandra Flame-Blood, heir to the first fire!
This throne was stolen from my line—my mother burned in exile, her name stripped from the stone!
I come not for vengeance, but for justice!
I invoke the Law of Flame, and challenge Seraphina of Moonclaw to a Trial of Blood!
One throne. One queen.
The flame will choose.”
Gasps erupted.
The Law of Flame hadn’t been used in five hundred years. It allowed any direct blood descendant of the Flame Queen to issue a challenge for rule—through single combat or magical rite.
Mira whispered, “She’s within her right.”
Seraphina’s voice was steel. “Then I’ll answer her.”
The Battle Council
That night, the war chamber was silent.
“Accepting the challenge makes it real,” Darian said. “You could refuse.”
“And look weak,” Mira countered. “The council would fracture. Some already waver. Stormfang blood has its supporters.”
“She doesn’t just want my crown,” Seraphina said. “She wants to undo everything we’ve built. Unity. Peace. Hope.”
Kael stood beside her. “Then burn her.”
His voice didn’t tremble.
Lyra clutched Seraphina’s hand. “Win. For us.”
The Trial Circle
At dawn, the Trial Circle was carved anew in the heart of the valley. Flame-runes etched into stone by ancient magic pulsed around its edge.
Seraphina entered in black battle leathers, a red cloak draped across her shoulders. Her weapons were simple: her hands, her wolf, and the fire within.
Aurelia awaited in a robe that shimmered like lava, wielding a double-bladed spear of obsidian.
“Once,” she said, “my mother knelt here and was banished for loving the wrong Alpha. Now I stand to reclaim what was taken.”
“You came too late,” Seraphina replied. “I’ve already lit the world back to life.”
Then the runes flared—
And the battle began.
Fire Against Fire
They clashed in a roar of elemental fury.
Aurelia’s spear cut the wind, every strike trailing tongues of fire. Seraphina answered with her bare hands, calling on the heat inside her—not the rage of vengeance, but the fire of love, loss, and rebirth.
The ground cracked beneath their feet.
Flames arced through the air.
Aurelia shouted spells in the tongue of the ancients—one of them almost shattered Seraphina’s ribcage with a blast of searing wind. But Seraphina countered with instinct, drawing power from the wyrm-scale shard Eira had given her. Ice laced her fire—controlled. Focused.
“You fight like a queen,” Aurelia growled.
“I am one,” Seraphina answered—and shifted.
Luna Ascendant
Her wolf was not the one that had died in the fire years ago.
It was reborn—silver-gold, radiant, crowned with fire.
The crowd gasped as the Twice-Born Luna rose.
Aurelia shifted, too—into a massive crimson wolf with embered eyes and smoke trailing from her fangs. The circle shook with their roars.
They collided in mid-air—teeth, claws, flame.
But in the final moment, as Aurelia lunged with killing intent, Seraphina dropped low, spun, and drove her aura into Aurelia’s chest—not to kill, but to strip away her fury.
And whispered:
> “You are not her. You are not what they made you.
You are free to be more.”
Aurelia collapsed.
Mercy and Power
Seraphina stood over her rival as the flames died.
The crowd waited.
She could end it.
But she didn’t.
Instead, she offered a hand.
Aurelia, bleeding and breathless, looked at her.
And took it.
End of Reign of the Forsaken Moon Chapter 25. Continue reading Chapter 26 or return to Reign of the Forsaken Moon book page.