Reign of the Forsaken Moon - Chapter 57: Chapter 57

The descent began at twilight.
Seraphina stood at the edge of the catacombs carved deep into the cliffs beneath the Duskreach temple, her fingers wrapped around a torch lit with witchfire. Behind her, Darian adjusted his sword belt while Mira checked the flasks of Hollowlight potion secured in her satchel. Kael stood still as stone, murmuring silent blessings in a tongue that hadn’t been heard in the Moonlands for over a thousand years.
“You don’t have to come,” Seraphina told the others. “This is something I must face.”
Darian stepped beside her, unwavering. “You face it—we face it.”
Mira gave her a tight nod. “We didn’t survive one war to let you go into another alone.”
Kael offered only three words: “It remembers you.”
Then, together, they descended into the dark.
The Passage of Whispers
The air grew colder as they moved deeper.
The tunnels, slick with moisture and carved in smooth obsidian, twisted like a serpent’s body. Strange glyphs pulsed faintly along the walls, reacting to Seraphina’s presence. Some whispered. Others trembled beneath her fingers.
“The Hollow was born here,” Kael murmured. “But it wasn’t the first darkness.”
Seraphina paused before an archway sealed in runes of flame and shadow.
Her Hollow mark pulsed on her wrist—and the door creaked open.
“What is this place?” Mira whispered.
Kael’s voice was almost reverent. “The Womb of Unmaking.”
The Chamber of Mirrors
Inside, the chamber was impossibly vast, lit by reflections from the obsidian walls—mirrors that didn’t reflect them, but others.
Seraphina approached one and saw herself as a child—before the crown, before the fire. Innocent. Unscarred.
Another showed her burning—the moment she died.
A third… showed her ruling beside a stranger in silver armor, her eyes glowing void black.
“That’s not real,” Darian growled, stepping between her and the mirror.
Kael stepped forward. “This is the trial of the Fulcrum. To pass through, she must confront her truths.”
“I don’t need to see visions,” Seraphina hissed. “I’ve lived them.”
But one mirror called to her.
She stepped before it—and saw her children.
Eira and Kian.
Alive.
Laughing.
Running through the fields of Windrest.
Tears burned her eyes. She reached out—
The glass turned to fire.
And she fell forward into the dark.
The Void Within
When Seraphina opened her eyes, she was alone.
The chamber around her pulsed like a heartbeat. Stone walls bled ash. Air screamed in silence.
And across from her stood a shadow with glowing red eyes… in her shape.
It spoke in her voice.
“You think you can balance fire and void?”
Seraphina rose, breath shallow. “I am the balance.”
“You are denial,” the shadow spat. “You weep for lost children and dream of peace—but your power was born in fury.”
It circled her.
“You want love. But all you bring is war. Darian will fall. The Moonlands will rot. And you will be crowned in ash.”
“No,” Seraphina whispered.
The shadow lunged.
Seraphina met it with fire.
War of Wills
The battle was not of blade or claw—but will.
Fire and shadow danced, clashed, consumed each other. Every fear Seraphina carried—every failure, every death—was wielded against her.
Eira’s cry as she burned.
Kian’s whisper as he faded.
The betrayal by her first mate.
Her own mother’s indifference.
The guilt.
The rage.
The loneliness.
The shadow screamed, “You cannot rule what you fear!”
Seraphina sank to one knee.
Her crown fell.
But then—
She felt a hand.
Warm.
Real.
Darian’s voice, faint but steady: “You are not alone, Seraphina. Not now. Not ever.”
Mira’s: “We believe in you.”
Kael’s: “Remember the fire and the light.”
She rose.
And the fire within her ignited—silver and gold, Hollow and celestial.
The shadow screamed as it was pulled into her mark.
Seraphina stood alone.
Whole.
The Artifact Awaits
When she awoke, Darian was beside her, cradling her head.
“You scared the hell out of us,” he murmured.
She sat up. “I had to burn through it.”
Kael helped her rise. “The Fulcrum is no longer divided.”
Mira stepped forward, eyes wide. “Look.”
At the center of the chamber, a pedestal had risen.
Upon it lay a single orb—glowing with layered flame and shadow.
Kael whispered, “The Heart of Duskreach. The first core of balance. Lost for ages.”
Seraphina touched it—and knew instantly what it was.
Not a weapon.
But a key.
“To what?” Darian asked.
Seraphina turned to them.
“To the thing even the Hollow feared.”