Reign of the Forsaken Moon - Chapter 69: Chapter 69

The eastern wilds had changed.
Where once there were rivers and moonlit groves, now twisted trees clawed toward the sky like skeletal hands. The air hung thick with the smell of damp earth and ash, and the usual hum of life was replaced by an unnatural silence.
Seraphina rode at the front, flanked by Darian and Kael. Behind them, two dozen elite warriors fanned out, their eyes sharp, their blades drawn. No one spoke. The tension wrapped around them like a second skin.
“Sira’s not just running,” Kael said, his horse keeping pace. “She’s guiding something.”
“She’s being guided,” Darian corrected grimly. “By him.”
Seraphina clenched the reins tighter. “Lucien may be dead, but his shadow isn’t. And if it’s taken root in her…”
“She might not survive the pull,” Kael finished.
Beneath the Veil
Sira stood before the gate.
Its obsidian surface pulsed like a heartbeat now, alive with dark flame. The Veil had begun to thin. Not fully open—just enough for whispers to slip through. Just enough for promises.
Lucien’s remnant drifted beside her, a flickering illusion of power wrapped in silver fire.
“You feel it, don’t you?” he asked, voice like oil over glass. “The hunger. The truth of what you are.”
“I’m me,” Sira said, but even she didn’t sound convinced.
“You’re a flame without a hearth. A fury without a throne. Seraphina claims she saved you—but all she did was chain you.”
Sira’s fists clenched. “She spared me.”
“No. She feared you.”
He stepped closer.
“Let me show you what true power is. What she’ll never let you become.”
The Chase
The pack reached the ruined temple just past midnight.
Moonlight filtered weakly through the trees, illuminating the remains of stone columns and bloodstained altars. The scent of burning moss filled the air.
“She was here,” Mira muttered, kneeling beside a broken lantern. “And recently.”
Kael knelt near a scorch mark. “This isn’t just ember residue. This is Veilfire.”
Seraphina turned to the group. “No one splits off. We move as one.”
Darian stepped beside her, placing a hand on her shoulder. “If we find her, and she’s already bonded with that… thing—what do you want me to do?”
Seraphina’s jaw tightened.
“Don’t let her kill herself for a war she doesn’t understand.”
A Thread Between Sisters
Ashen stirred in her chambers, far away from the hunt—but her mind was not at rest.
That night, she dreamed again.
Of flames. Of Sira. Of a gate in the earth cracking open.
And then she saw Seraphina, kneeling in the ash, holding Sira’s lifeless body.
No, Ashen whispered. Please, not again.
When she woke, her eyes were glowing faintly gold.
A Battle of Flames
The final confrontation came suddenly.
Sira stood alone in the clearing—her skin lined with fire veins, her eyes twin orbs of molten silver. Lucien’s remnant lingered behind her, a shadow growing more solid with every second.
“I don’t want to fight you,” Seraphina said, stepping forward.
“You don’t get to want anymore,” Sira snapped. “You chose the others. You always chose peace—even when war was the only truth.”
Flames erupted around them.
Ash trees burned. Rocks cracked from the heat.
Darian growled, shifting partially into his wolf form, fangs bared. “This isn’t her. This is him.”
Seraphina drew her twin blades, eyes glowing violet. “No. This is still Sira. And I have to reach her.”
The Clash
Sira attacked like lightning.
Her flames were faster, sharper, more chaotic than ever. Seraphina met each strike with measured precision, holding her ground while refusing to strike to kill.
“I spared you once,” Seraphina said between blows. “I saw the girl inside the flame.”
“She’s dead,” Sira snarled, sending a spear of fire toward her.
Darian tackled it midair, shielding Seraphina as the explosion shook the ground.
Lucien’s remnant smiled from the shadows. “Yes… burn, little Luna. Burn away your mercy.”
But Seraphina wasn’t done.
She threw down her blades and stepped into the fire.
Her hands open.
Her voice calm.
“I’m not here to destroy you, Sira.”
The Turn
Sira faltered.
The fire wavered.
“Why?” she asked. “Why won’t you fight me?”
“Because I remember what it’s like to be lost. I remember what it’s like to want to be more than pain.”
Seraphina’s voice cracked.
“I remember the day my children died. I remember the silence afterward. I almost became you.”
Sira’s hands trembled.
Lucien roared, “No! You are mine! You were made to carry my fire!”
But Sira turned.
And for the first time… she saw him.
And she screamed.
“No—I am not you! I am not your shadow!”
She hurled a final bolt of flame—not at Seraphina, but at Lucien’s remnant.
It struck true.
And the shadow howled.
And shattered.
Aftermath
The gate cracked.
The Veil shuddered.
And then it closed—collapsing in on itself with a sigh of finality.
The clearing grew quiet.
Seraphina caught Sira as she fell, body scorched and weak.
“I couldn’t…” Sira whispered.
“You did,” Seraphina said. “You chose.”
Darian knelt beside them, glancing at the others. “She’s still breathing. Kael—get a stabilizer rune ready.”
Kael rushed forward, unrolling the seal.
Ashen arrived moments later, breathless, eyes wild. She dropped to her knees beside her sister Echo.
“You’re here,” Sira murmured.
Ashen held her tightly. “And I’m not letting you go again.”