Reign of the Forsaken Moon - Chapter 72: Chapter 72

The moon bled red in the sky.
For the first time in three centuries, the Blood Eclipse crept toward the heavens, a rare celestial alignment that marked not only transformation—but reckoning.
Within Windrest’s temple halls, the flame of the sacred brazier flickered violently. The air was heavy with prophecy and ash. It was here that Seraphina stood, cloaked in ceremonial silver, flanked by her three Echoes—Ashen, Sira, and Serai.
Each bore a colored flame in their palms: Ashen's warm gold, Sira’s defiant crimson, Serai’s silver-blue calm.
The Ceremony of the Three Flames had begun.
And with it, the clock on fate’s final decision.
The First Fire: Memory
Ashen stepped forward first.
In the center of the chamber, a pool of moonwater shimmered like starlight, surrounded by obsidian stones. As Ashen knelt, her flame floated from her palm, drifting into the water.
A vision formed.
Seraphina saw herself—young, afraid, and alone. The early days after her first death, when she wandered as a nameless spirit clinging to broken pieces of her past. Ashen had been her heart then, guiding her toward light, toward healing.
“You were the first to remind me I was more than pain,” Seraphina whispered.
Ashen smiled gently. “You were never meant to carry sorrow alone.”
Tears pricked Seraphina’s eyes.
Ashen returned to her place without a word.
The Second Fire: Fury
Sira strode forward, eyes fierce.
Her flame snapped and hissed as she released it. When it touched the pool, fire erupted across the surface.
This time, the vision showed Seraphina on the battlefield—bloodied, enraged, screaming as she faced the Alpha who had betrayed her in life. It was Sira who emerged in that moment, not from gentleness but sheer wrath—raw, pure, necessary.
“You were my scream,” Seraphina said hoarsely. “The part of me that wouldn’t kneel.”
Sira gave her a sharp nod. “You needed fire to remember who you were.”
“And you gave it to me,” she whispered.
The Third Fire: Fate
Serai came forward in silence.
She did not kneel. She simply opened her hand and let her cold flame hover above the pool. As it touched, the water turned mirror-smooth.
No visions.
Only Seraphina’s own reflection—staring back, splintered into three.
“She was always the quiet one,” Darian murmured, watching from the shadows.
“But she sees the farthest,” Kael added.
Seraphina looked at Serai. “You were the whisper. The thread that tied the others together.”
Serai bowed her head. “The thread must hold… or the flame breaks.”
And then, the vision rippled.
Not of the past.
But of the future.
The Blood Eclipse Begins
Outside, the moon darkened as the eclipse reached its zenith. Shadows fell across Windrest, and wolves howled as magic thickened in the air.
The temple floor trembled.
The flames rose from the water, spinning together—red, gold, and silver.
A voice echoed from the brazier, ancient and female.
"Choose, daughter of ash. Let one rise eternal. Let two return to the sky."
"Balance demands it. The world bends under your indecision."
The flames spun faster.
Seraphina fell to her knees.
“I can’t. I won’t sacrifice them. Not when they saved me.”
The voice was quiet. “Then your line ends here.”
A Rift in the Sky
Suddenly—ice cracked.
Far beyond the city walls, in the northern pass, a fissure tore through the mountain barrier. Blue fire spewed into the sky as an army emerged—armored in frost, eyes glowing violet.
The Seer of the Frozen Pact had arrived.
And with her came exiles, ancient beasts, and half-turned spirits lost to time.
In the temple, Seraphina gasped, the vision slamming into her senses.
“She’s here,” she whispered. “The one from the Codex. The one we thought long dead.”
Serai’s eyes widened. “She was never dead. Just sealed.”
Ashen stepped forward. “Then the stars are wrong. They asked you to choose before the true threat even came.”
Sira snarled. “That voice isn’t fate. It’s fear.”
The Breaking of the Rite
Seraphina rose, fire blooming along her arms.
“I will not choose.”
The flames shrieked and flared, resisting.
Darian rushed to her side. “Seraphina, you’re breaking the rite!”
“I am the rite now,” she said, voice full of power. “I’ve bled, burned, and been reborn. And I will not abandon pieces of myself for the sake of ancient rules.”
She turned to the flame. “You want balance? Then witness true balance—three parts of one soul standing side by side.”
She thrust her hand into the center of the vortex.
The flames howled.
Then calmed.
And merged.
Gold, crimson, silver—becoming one.
After the Ash
A moment of stillness followed.
Then a pulse—so powerful it knocked every priest in the temple to their knees.
When Seraphina looked up, her body glowed faintly with shifting firelight.
The voice returned.
"Very well, Twice-Born. You are no longer bound by the rites. But with this power comes price. The enemy rises. And the stars have bent for you once. They will not bend again."
And then silence.
Seraphina collapsed into Darian’s arms.
He held her tightly.
“You did it.”
“No,” she whispered. “We did it.”