Reign of the Forsaken Moon - Chapter 58: Chapter 58
You are reading Reign of the Forsaken Moon, Chapter 58: Chapter 58. Read more chapters of Reign of the Forsaken Moon.
The cliffs of Duskreach groaned beneath their feet as Seraphina emerged from the catacombs, the Heart of Duskreach cradled in her palms.
The sky had changed.
No longer clouded, but painted in bleeding hues of red and gold, as though the heavens themselves were watching.
Liora waited at the temple steps, eyes fixed on the orb. Her expression—normally serene—was shadowed with dread.
“You’ve awakened it,” she said.
Seraphina nodded. “It needed to be awakened.”
“No,” Liora murmured. “You’ve awakened him.”
Tremors of Power
The moment the Heart of Duskreach passed the temple threshold, the ground trembled. Arches cracked. Flames flared unnaturally in the braziers.
Kael clutched the scrolls at his side. “It’s reacting. The temple was built to contain it—not honor it.”
Darian stood close to Seraphina, hand on his blade. “What is it, really?”
Liora stepped forward, her voice hushed but urgent. “The Heart is not just a relic. It’s the ember left behind by the First Flame. The godfire that created the original balance between worlds.”
“And what does that mean for me?” Seraphina asked.
Liora’s eyes flicked to the Hollow mark on her wrist.
“It means your soul is part of it.”
The Prophecy Deepens
That night, gathered in the inner sanctum, Liora revealed the second half of the Flame Prophecy—lost for centuries and hidden beneath the catacombs.
The words were inscribed in runes that only Seraphina could read, glowing softly as her fingers traced them.
> “When the Fulcrum holds the First Flame,
And moonlight dims upon the sea,
The Scorched King shall rise again,
Born of fire, bound by three.
His soul shall seek the broken crown,
And try to steal the balance down.”
Mira shivered. “The Scorched King? Another warlock?”
Kael looked grave. “Worse. He was once the protector of the First Flame—until he tried to control it. The one who created the Hollow.”
Seraphina’s voice was ice. “And now he’s waking.”
A Ghost in the Fire
The next morning, the Heart pulsed.
Not like a gem.
But like a living thing.
It called Seraphina back to the ruins of the outer temple, where wind howled through broken columns and the smell of ash lingered thick in the air.
She knelt and placed the orb upon the stone altar.
And the fire burst forth.
Not flames—but a figure.
Burning, immense, and robed in smoke.
His eyes were molten gold. His voice like thunder dragged through flame.
> “You are mine.”
Seraphina stood her ground. “I belong to no one.”
> “You carry my blood,” the Scorched King hissed. “Through the line of the betrayed. My mark is in your bones. Your fire… is my fire.”
She summoned her power—gold and Hollow twining around her hands.
“Then burn for me,” she said.
They clashed.
Battle of Fire and Blood
The temple groaned as ancient flame met reborn power.
The Scorched King’s essence flared with every strike, shaking the sky. Darian and Mira arrived just in time to shield the others as Seraphina was lifted into the air, wreathed in white-hot fire.
“You are not meant to be balance,” the king growled. “You are meant to be a weapon.”
She screamed as the fire seared into her soul.
But then—
She remembered Eira’s laugh.
Kian’s little hand in hers.
Darian’s arms around her.
The truth.
She wasn’t born to destroy.
She was born to protect.
With a cry that cracked the heavens, she unleashed the full force of the Heart.
The Scorched King roared and vanished—his essence shattered.
But not destroyed.
Only scattered.
After the Flame
Seraphina collapsed into Darian’s arms, breathing hard.
“I saw him,” she gasped. “I saw where he sleeps. Beneath the Ruins of Vyrr.”
Kael’s face paled. “That’s across the Hollow Sea. No one’s returned from there.”
“We’re not like the others,” Seraphina said softly. “We’ve come too far to stop now.”
Liora touched her shoulder gently. “You’ve proven worthy of the Heart. But it alone will not defeat him.”
Seraphina met her gaze. “Then what will?”
“Blood,” Liora said. “And choice.”
Shadows Stir
That night, Seraphina stood at the edge of the cliff alone.
The Heart of Duskreach now floated above her wrist like a silent moon, glowing with strange, slow pulses.
Darian joined her, his hand brushing hers.
“You were incredible,” he said.
She turned to him. “You weren’t afraid?”
“I’m always afraid,” he said. “But never of you.”
She leaned in, lips brushing his.
“Then stay close.”
They stood together, watching the stars.
Far to the west, beyond the fog, a shadow moved across the sea.
A new enemy was rising.
And it knew her name.
The sky had changed.
No longer clouded, but painted in bleeding hues of red and gold, as though the heavens themselves were watching.
Liora waited at the temple steps, eyes fixed on the orb. Her expression—normally serene—was shadowed with dread.
“You’ve awakened it,” she said.
Seraphina nodded. “It needed to be awakened.”
“No,” Liora murmured. “You’ve awakened him.”
Tremors of Power
The moment the Heart of Duskreach passed the temple threshold, the ground trembled. Arches cracked. Flames flared unnaturally in the braziers.
Kael clutched the scrolls at his side. “It’s reacting. The temple was built to contain it—not honor it.”
Darian stood close to Seraphina, hand on his blade. “What is it, really?”
Liora stepped forward, her voice hushed but urgent. “The Heart is not just a relic. It’s the ember left behind by the First Flame. The godfire that created the original balance between worlds.”
“And what does that mean for me?” Seraphina asked.
Liora’s eyes flicked to the Hollow mark on her wrist.
“It means your soul is part of it.”
The Prophecy Deepens
That night, gathered in the inner sanctum, Liora revealed the second half of the Flame Prophecy—lost for centuries and hidden beneath the catacombs.
The words were inscribed in runes that only Seraphina could read, glowing softly as her fingers traced them.
> “When the Fulcrum holds the First Flame,
And moonlight dims upon the sea,
The Scorched King shall rise again,
Born of fire, bound by three.
His soul shall seek the broken crown,
And try to steal the balance down.”
Mira shivered. “The Scorched King? Another warlock?”
Kael looked grave. “Worse. He was once the protector of the First Flame—until he tried to control it. The one who created the Hollow.”
Seraphina’s voice was ice. “And now he’s waking.”
A Ghost in the Fire
The next morning, the Heart pulsed.
Not like a gem.
But like a living thing.
It called Seraphina back to the ruins of the outer temple, where wind howled through broken columns and the smell of ash lingered thick in the air.
She knelt and placed the orb upon the stone altar.
And the fire burst forth.
Not flames—but a figure.
Burning, immense, and robed in smoke.
His eyes were molten gold. His voice like thunder dragged through flame.
> “You are mine.”
Seraphina stood her ground. “I belong to no one.”
> “You carry my blood,” the Scorched King hissed. “Through the line of the betrayed. My mark is in your bones. Your fire… is my fire.”
She summoned her power—gold and Hollow twining around her hands.
“Then burn for me,” she said.
They clashed.
Battle of Fire and Blood
The temple groaned as ancient flame met reborn power.
The Scorched King’s essence flared with every strike, shaking the sky. Darian and Mira arrived just in time to shield the others as Seraphina was lifted into the air, wreathed in white-hot fire.
“You are not meant to be balance,” the king growled. “You are meant to be a weapon.”
She screamed as the fire seared into her soul.
But then—
She remembered Eira’s laugh.
Kian’s little hand in hers.
Darian’s arms around her.
The truth.
She wasn’t born to destroy.
She was born to protect.
With a cry that cracked the heavens, she unleashed the full force of the Heart.
The Scorched King roared and vanished—his essence shattered.
But not destroyed.
Only scattered.
After the Flame
Seraphina collapsed into Darian’s arms, breathing hard.
“I saw him,” she gasped. “I saw where he sleeps. Beneath the Ruins of Vyrr.”
Kael’s face paled. “That’s across the Hollow Sea. No one’s returned from there.”
“We’re not like the others,” Seraphina said softly. “We’ve come too far to stop now.”
Liora touched her shoulder gently. “You’ve proven worthy of the Heart. But it alone will not defeat him.”
Seraphina met her gaze. “Then what will?”
“Blood,” Liora said. “And choice.”
Shadows Stir
That night, Seraphina stood at the edge of the cliff alone.
The Heart of Duskreach now floated above her wrist like a silent moon, glowing with strange, slow pulses.
Darian joined her, his hand brushing hers.
“You were incredible,” he said.
She turned to him. “You weren’t afraid?”
“I’m always afraid,” he said. “But never of you.”
She leaned in, lips brushing his.
“Then stay close.”
They stood together, watching the stars.
Far to the west, beyond the fog, a shadow moved across the sea.
A new enemy was rising.
And it knew her name.
End of Reign of the Forsaken Moon Chapter 58. Continue reading Chapter 59 or return to Reign of the Forsaken Moon book page.