Reign of the Forsaken Moon - Chapter 70: Chapter 70

Windrest stood bathed in a golden dusk as Seraphina returned with Sira cradled in her arms. The city greeted her not with cheers—but with silence. Not of fear, but of anticipation. The kind of silence that settles before a storm, deep and knowing.
Behind her, Ashen walked close to Sira’s side, holding the limp Echo’s hand. Darian and Kael flanked the edges of the returning convoy, their eyes sharp, their bodies wound tight like drawn bows.
The Veil had been sealed. For now.
But something darker was rising from within.
Shifting Tensions
By nightfall, whispers rippled through the palace.
“She spared the traitor.”
“She protects her copies more than her own people.”
“She’s changed. The Luna we loved would never have let this happen.”
Seraphina heard them all, even behind closed doors.
And yet, she sat in Sira’s chamber with quiet resolve, watching the Echo rest under golden sheets laced with warding runes.
“You saved her,” Ashen whispered, brushing Sira’s damp hair away from her brow.
“No,” Seraphina said softly. “She saved herself. I only gave her the chance.”
Ashen smiled, tears in her eyes. “You gave all of us a chance.”
The Ember Codex
Far below, in the temple’s inner sanctum, Serai turned the pages of the Ember Codex—the oldest sacred book of their kind, said to be inked in the blood of the First Flame. Only a few Luna before her had dared read it fully.
What she found chilled her.
A hidden verse—written in a language that shimmered and shifted under the light of the moon. As she whispered the words, the fire beside her blazed blue.
"When the Luna burns threefold—past, fury, and fate—she shall walk the path of gods or perish as a star."
"Born once in sorrow, again in blood, and last in shadow—she shall face the choice that breaks the flame."
Her hands trembled.
Three rebirths.
Three reflections.
One final choice.
Darian's Doubt
Later, as Darian joined Seraphina on the balcony, he noticed her distant gaze.
“You’re somewhere else,” he murmured.
She handed him a sealed note—one that Kael had translated from Serai’s discovery.
As he read it, his jaw tightened. “This is about you, isn’t it? A prophecy?”
“About the Echoes. About me. About what happens next.”
“Born once in sorrow,” he repeated quietly, “again in blood… and last in shadow. That sounds like… now.”
Seraphina looked toward the full moon. “If this is my third life, then the choice that breaks the flame is close.”
Darian turned to her, fierce and steady. “Then whatever it is—we face it together. You don’t burn alone anymore.”
In the Council’s Shadows
Mira stood beside Kael in the Grand Hall, watching council members murmur behind closed doors.
“They’re planning something,” she said.
Kael nodded. “Not all the court believes Seraphina should still rule.”
“They think the Echoes compromise her?”
“They fear what they don’t understand,” Kael muttered. “And fear breeds rebellion.”
“Who’s leading it?”
Kael’s voice dropped to a whisper. “Arden. High Commander of the Western Claw.”
Mira cursed under her breath. “He was loyal to the old ways. To the first Luna rites.”
“And he believes Seraphina’s rebirths make her unstable.”
The Fire Below
That night, Seraphina dreamed.
She stood alone in a field of stars, surrounded by three versions of herself—Ashen, Sira, and Serai. Each held a flame of different color—white, red, and silver.
“You must choose,” Serai whispered.
Ashen held out her light. “Love.”
Sira’s burned brighter. “War.”
And Serai, calm and cold, offered silence. “Fate.”
Seraphina’s hands trembled.
“I want none of them,” she cried.
“Then you choose death,” they whispered as one.
The flames surged around her, and the stars blinked out.
The Coming Storm
Seraphina woke with a start—only to find Mira waiting in her chamber.
“It’s started,” Mira said.
“What?”
“Arden’s challenge.”