Reign of the Forsaken Moon - Chapter 32: Chapter 32

The night after Wren’s betrayal ended in silence, not celebration.
Though Windrest had survived its third internal strike, the toll was growing. Every time Seraphina closed her eyes, she heard the echo of Wren’s words—the certainty, the fanaticism, and the unwavering belief that the Gate’s release would usher in salvation.
She stood alone in the moon chapel, where the Goddess’s blessing had once bloomed over sacred stone. Now, the altar’s silver markings had faded, dulled by centuries and sacrifice.
Seraphina lit a single candle, whispering a quiet prayer.
> “Moon Mother, I have held your light through shadow and flame.
But now… I fear even that is no longer enough.”
Lucien’s Summons
Kael found her just past dawn, expression grave.
“He’s asking for you again,” he said. “Lucien.”
Seraphina’s spine stiffened. “Where?”
“The old scribe’s hall. He claims to have something to show you. Something… about your children.”
She froze.
The name of her children—Liora and Elric—was one she had not spoken aloud in moons. Their memory still cut sharper than blades. But curiosity, grief, and a whisper of desperate hope pushed her feet forward.
When she entered the scribe hall, Lucien stood by the long-forgotten lunar table, where spell maps and resurrection rites were carved in dust.
He didn’t smile.
“I didn’t call you here to manipulate you,” he said. “This is about what’s buried beneath the Gate. And about them.”
He reached into his coat and pulled out a scroll bound with Liora’s birth ribbon—blue silk frayed with age.
Seraphina’s breath caught. “Where did you get that?”
“It came from the Gate’s lock,” Lucien said softly. “When I tried to seal it last winter… it bled memories. Your memories.”
Her hand trembled as she unrolled the parchment.
Inside, drawn in lunar blood, was a spell.
One she had never seen before.
One that could only be performed by the Twice-Born Luna… at the edge of the veil… where souls still wandered.
> “You can bring one of them back,” Lucien said. “But it will cost you.”
The Forbidden Rite
Seraphina stared at the page, its symbols whispering softly in her mind—familiar and foreign, like lullabies sung in dreams.
“A soul tether,” she whispered. “Not a full resurrection, but a… pull. A chance to speak to them, once more.”
Lucien nodded. “One voice. One hour. But your spirit will weaken. And it will attract the Gate.”
Darian’s voice rose from behind them.
“Then it’s not a choice at all.”
He entered the room, eyes sharp and wounded.
“You kept this from her?”
Lucien didn’t flinch. “I told her the truth.”
Darian stalked forward. “You told her your truth. Your version. You always come with some pain wrapped in silver and silk.”
“Because pain is all we have left,” Lucien growled.
Seraphina stepped between them. “Enough.”
She held up the scroll.
“I will decide what this means. I… I need to see them. Just once.”
Darian’s shoulders sagged. “And if the Gate answers instead?”
“Then I’ll face it. But not before I hold them one more time.”
The Tether Ceremony
At the moonstone pool—where the veil was thin and the world between could almost be touched—Seraphina knelt in silence.
Mira and Kael stood watch. Darian, silent and cold, remained at a distance, his sword drawn but lowered. Lucien lit the boundary candles, each flame a note in the melody of ancient grief.
Seraphina bled a drop of her own heartblood into the pool. The water shimmered, then stilled.
“Liora,” she whispered.
“Mom?”
The voice was so soft, so pure, that she nearly collapsed.
She turned—and there she was.
Liora.
Golden curls, wide eyes, her little fingers reaching out. She stood barefoot in moonlight, as real as memory, as fragile as wind.
“Is it really you?” Seraphina choked.
The child smiled. “It’s me, Mama. But I can’t stay long.”
Tears blurred her vision.
“I’m so sorry I couldn’t protect you. That I failed—”
“You didn’t fail,” Liora said. “You lived. You came back. And now you can protect everyone else.”
Seraphina reached for her—but their hands passed through like mist.
> “I have a message,” Liora whispered.
“The Gate is not what you think.
It remembers you.
And it fears you.”
Suddenly, the water flared with dark light.
Lucien backed away. “Something’s crossing!”
Seraphina turned, eyes glowing with fury.
“Back, shadow!” she roared.
And with one final whisper from Liora—“I love you, Mama”—the tether broke.
Fractures
Later, back in her quarters, Seraphina sat in stunned silence.
Darian entered without knocking.
“I told you it was dangerous.”
“And I told you I had to try.”
He didn’t argue. Instead, he knelt in front of her.
“You were... brilliant,” he said softly. “But also reckless.”
“I know.”
“She spoke to you?”
“Yes.” Her eyes were glassy. “And the Gate tried to follow her.”
Darian touched her cheek. “What did she say?”
“That the Gate fears me.”
He smiled. “Then let’s make it regret that.”
In the Deep
Far beneath Windrest, in the locked cavern where no light reached, Wren—still bound in magical chains—smiled.
“You performed the tether,” she said to no one.
The air shifted. The shadows grew thicker.
And then… a voice spoke.
> “She opened the door.
The blood sings.
The bond is nearly complete.”
Wren lifted her chin.
“Then let the storm begin.”