Reign of the Forsaken Moon - Chapter 54: Chapter 54
You are reading Reign of the Forsaken Moon, Chapter 54: Chapter 54. Read more chapters of Reign of the Forsaken Moon.
Windrest’s gates opened at dawn, not for war, but for strangers who carried history on their backs.
They came from the southern wilds—twelve wolves cloaked in midnight fur, cloaks embroidered with symbols long thought erased from time. Their leader walked with a staff carved from whitebone ash, his eyes pale as frost, though his voice was steady and low when he introduced himself.
“I am Kael, son of the Forgotten Flame, Seer of the Lost Bloodline.”
Seraphina studied them from the Moon Court steps, flanked by Darian and Mira. Her crown gleamed in the pale light, but her expression was unreadable.
“You’ve remained hidden for generations,” she said. “Why emerge now?”
Kael stepped forward. “Because the fire has returned to the throne. And because the Hollow sleeps—but it does not rest.”
The Forgotten Flame
They were given guest chambers and a private council audience.
Inside the stone-walled chamber, Kael revealed a scroll, aged and brittle, wrapped in crimson thread.
“This is a remnant of the Flame Prophecy,” he said. “Preserved by our ancestors when your kingdom turned against magic deemed unnatural.”
Seraphina raised a brow. “You mean the Hollow?”
“No,” Kael said. “Not the Hollow. The Balance.”
He unfurled the scroll carefully.
Drawn in ancient ink were four sigils: Moon, Flame, Wolf, and Shadow—intertwined in a spiral, each feeding into the other.
“This is the true origin of the Moonlands,” Kael said. “Before there were Luna courts and Alpha thrones, there were the Four Pillars. When they stood in balance, the land thrived. When they fractured—so did the kingdom.”
Darian stepped closer. “So why come to Seraphina now?”
Kael met her gaze.
“Because she is the first ruler born of both flame and shadow. Fire and Hollow. And that makes her the Fulcrum.”
The Fulcrum’s Burden
That night, Seraphina sat in the palace library with Mira, rereading the translated verses.
“In the age of cinder and frost,” Seraphina read aloud, “when night births light and shadow burns, the Fulcrum shall rise to bind the torn.”
Mira frowned. “What does that even mean?”
“That I was never just a mistake,” Seraphina murmured. “I was made to unite what has been broken.”
“But balance means holding both,” Mira warned. “Light and dark. Fire and shadow. That’s… dangerous.”
Seraphina’s Hollow mark pulsed faintly on her wrist.
“Everything I am has always been dangerous.”
Secrets in the Stone
A day later, Kael requested Seraphina’s presence in the old catacombs beneath the palace.
She, Darian, and Mira descended with him through torchlit halls etched with runes long faded. At the very heart of the ancient chamber, Kael paused before a stone wall that shimmered faintly.
“This is the Flame Gate,” he said. “Sealed when the last Fulcrum fell.”
“I thought there hadn’t been one before,” Seraphina said.
“Not one who survived.”
He pressed his hand to the stone. The wall trembled.
A crack split the center, and the stone doors opened.
Inside was a hidden sanctuary—filled with relics, scrolls, and a single massive mirror, forged not of glass, but obsidian touched by moonlight.
As Seraphina stepped closer, her reflection shimmered—not with her own face, but a vision of herself cloaked in gold and fire, standing atop a sea of ash and starlight.
“A vision?” she asked.
“A warning,” Kael said. “Or a possibility.”
Darian’s Doubts
Later that evening, Darian found her staring at the sky.
“You haven’t said much since the sanctuary,” he said.
She turned to him. “Because I don’t know how much of me is still me.”
He frowned. “You think this prophecy makes you less real?”
“I think it makes me less free.”
Darian reached for her hand, gripping it tight.
“You’ve already fought fate once, Seraphina. Whether it’s prophecy or chance—you’re the one holding the blade. Not the stars.”
She leaned into him. “Promise me if I fall to this—if I let it consume me—you’ll stop me.”
He nodded. “And if you rise into it and save this world, I’ll be beside you.”
The Forgotten Enemy
Kael’s final revelation came days later.
“There is one more truth,” he said. “The Hollow did not originate in these lands. It came across the sea—from a place called Duskreach. And it never came alone.”
Mira stiffened. “You’re saying there’s more?”
Kael nodded gravely. “A deeper darkness sleeps beneath the Hollow. One that the last Fulcrum tried to seal away. But now…”
Seraphina finished the sentence. “Now that I’ve awakened, so has it.”
He pulled a carved stone from his robes—an amulet glowing faint violet.
“It’s moving.”
Seraphina took it, feeling the tremble.
And her dreams that night were filled with rising waves, shrieking winds, and a black sun rising over distant waters.
They came from the southern wilds—twelve wolves cloaked in midnight fur, cloaks embroidered with symbols long thought erased from time. Their leader walked with a staff carved from whitebone ash, his eyes pale as frost, though his voice was steady and low when he introduced himself.
“I am Kael, son of the Forgotten Flame, Seer of the Lost Bloodline.”
Seraphina studied them from the Moon Court steps, flanked by Darian and Mira. Her crown gleamed in the pale light, but her expression was unreadable.
“You’ve remained hidden for generations,” she said. “Why emerge now?”
Kael stepped forward. “Because the fire has returned to the throne. And because the Hollow sleeps—but it does not rest.”
The Forgotten Flame
They were given guest chambers and a private council audience.
Inside the stone-walled chamber, Kael revealed a scroll, aged and brittle, wrapped in crimson thread.
“This is a remnant of the Flame Prophecy,” he said. “Preserved by our ancestors when your kingdom turned against magic deemed unnatural.”
Seraphina raised a brow. “You mean the Hollow?”
“No,” Kael said. “Not the Hollow. The Balance.”
He unfurled the scroll carefully.
Drawn in ancient ink were four sigils: Moon, Flame, Wolf, and Shadow—intertwined in a spiral, each feeding into the other.
“This is the true origin of the Moonlands,” Kael said. “Before there were Luna courts and Alpha thrones, there were the Four Pillars. When they stood in balance, the land thrived. When they fractured—so did the kingdom.”
Darian stepped closer. “So why come to Seraphina now?”
Kael met her gaze.
“Because she is the first ruler born of both flame and shadow. Fire and Hollow. And that makes her the Fulcrum.”
The Fulcrum’s Burden
That night, Seraphina sat in the palace library with Mira, rereading the translated verses.
“In the age of cinder and frost,” Seraphina read aloud, “when night births light and shadow burns, the Fulcrum shall rise to bind the torn.”
Mira frowned. “What does that even mean?”
“That I was never just a mistake,” Seraphina murmured. “I was made to unite what has been broken.”
“But balance means holding both,” Mira warned. “Light and dark. Fire and shadow. That’s… dangerous.”
Seraphina’s Hollow mark pulsed faintly on her wrist.
“Everything I am has always been dangerous.”
Secrets in the Stone
A day later, Kael requested Seraphina’s presence in the old catacombs beneath the palace.
She, Darian, and Mira descended with him through torchlit halls etched with runes long faded. At the very heart of the ancient chamber, Kael paused before a stone wall that shimmered faintly.
“This is the Flame Gate,” he said. “Sealed when the last Fulcrum fell.”
“I thought there hadn’t been one before,” Seraphina said.
“Not one who survived.”
He pressed his hand to the stone. The wall trembled.
A crack split the center, and the stone doors opened.
Inside was a hidden sanctuary—filled with relics, scrolls, and a single massive mirror, forged not of glass, but obsidian touched by moonlight.
As Seraphina stepped closer, her reflection shimmered—not with her own face, but a vision of herself cloaked in gold and fire, standing atop a sea of ash and starlight.
“A vision?” she asked.
“A warning,” Kael said. “Or a possibility.”
Darian’s Doubts
Later that evening, Darian found her staring at the sky.
“You haven’t said much since the sanctuary,” he said.
She turned to him. “Because I don’t know how much of me is still me.”
He frowned. “You think this prophecy makes you less real?”
“I think it makes me less free.”
Darian reached for her hand, gripping it tight.
“You’ve already fought fate once, Seraphina. Whether it’s prophecy or chance—you’re the one holding the blade. Not the stars.”
She leaned into him. “Promise me if I fall to this—if I let it consume me—you’ll stop me.”
He nodded. “And if you rise into it and save this world, I’ll be beside you.”
The Forgotten Enemy
Kael’s final revelation came days later.
“There is one more truth,” he said. “The Hollow did not originate in these lands. It came across the sea—from a place called Duskreach. And it never came alone.”
Mira stiffened. “You’re saying there’s more?”
Kael nodded gravely. “A deeper darkness sleeps beneath the Hollow. One that the last Fulcrum tried to seal away. But now…”
Seraphina finished the sentence. “Now that I’ve awakened, so has it.”
He pulled a carved stone from his robes—an amulet glowing faint violet.
“It’s moving.”
Seraphina took it, feeling the tremble.
And her dreams that night were filled with rising waves, shrieking winds, and a black sun rising over distant waters.
End of Reign of the Forsaken Moon Chapter 54. Continue reading Chapter 55 or return to Reign of the Forsaken Moon book page.