The air was heavier than usual. Not thick. Not choking. Just… weighted. Like something unseen had settled across the land, across the sky, and was waiting for someone to notice. Selene noticed. She always did. She sat near the river that wound quietly through the woods beyond Silvercrest, her boots tucked beneath her and her notebook balanced in her lap. She hadn’t written anything in days. She kept trying to capture her thoughts in ink, but every time the pen touched paper, her mind scattered. Nova hadn’t spoken all morning, which was rare. Not quiet in the usual sense, but withdrawn. Listening for something. It unsettled Selene more than she wanted to admit. Behind her, Theoden approached, his steps soft against the grass. He didn’t speak right away. Just sat beside her, his shoulder brushing hers. She handed him the other half of the bread she’d brought and leaned her head against his arm. “Nova’s quiet,” she murmured. “I know. Atlas is too.” He took a bite, chewed slow
By the following morning, the red on the moon was no longer a trick of the light. It was real. And growing. The entire village felt it—though few could name it. The warriors of Silvercrest and the nomads of Onyx moved like they were watching the sky out of the corners of their eyes. The elders were gone. The war should’ve ended. And yet, nothing felt resolved. Selene stood outside the cabin with her fingers resting lightly against a tree trunk, her thoughts tangled with Nova’s. “It’s humming again,” Nova murmured. “That strange rhythm. The one we heard before the eclipse in the last life.” “You remember that?” Selene asked softly. “Bits and pieces. But enough to be uneasy.” Behind her, the door opened, and Theoden stepped out. He looked at the tree, then at her. “You’re listening to it again.” She glanced back. “Can you hear it?” He shook his head. “But I can feel it. Like a beat under the skin.” They stood for a long moment in the still morning, the air cool but not s
It rained through the night, soft and slow. The kind of rain that soaked into the soil and lingered, filling the air with the smell of moss and wet bark. Selene woke first. She hadn’t meant to. Theoden’s arm was wrapped tightly around her waist, his breath slow and warm against her neck. She lay there for a while, memorizing the rhythm of it, until her thoughts pulled her too far into the waking world to stay still. She shifted gently, brushing her fingers down the curve of his jaw. His eyes blinked open—those deep, piercing blue eyes—and he stared at her like he hadn’t seen her in days. “You okay?” he murmured. Selene nodded. “I just… keep thinking.” Theoden propped himself up on one elbow. “About the seal?” “And the moon. And the book. And the fact that Cassiel keeps dodging our questions about the others.” Theoden reached over and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Let’s find out what he’s not saying.” — Cassiel wasn’t in his study when they arrived. Or the
It started with the dreams. Not the vivid, terrifying kind that left you screaming in the dark—but the quiet ones. The kind that whispered at the edge of sleep, the kind you didn’t remember when you woke up, only that you felt… different. Heavier. Theoden hadn’t slept in two days. Selene noticed, of course. She always noticed. But she didn’t push. Not yet. Instead, she cooked breakfast, handed him a mug of tea, and said, “You’re walking like the mountain’s sitting on your shoulders.” To which he replied, “I think it is.” And she didn’t ask what that meant. Not yet. — Cassiel hadn’t left the underground chamber since revealing the seal fragment. Luka tried to talk to him the day before and came back up the stairs muttering, “He’s gone full cryptic monk. Mumbled something about timelines and purity and waved me away like I was a pesky squirrel.” Darius had tried after that, and only lasted two minutes before returning with a grim look on his face and a very burnt scroll in
The seal shard pulsed all night. Theoden couldn’t sleep with it so close to him—its presence like a heartbeat beneath the floorboards, a hum beneath his skin. When he finally gave up trying, he slipped out of bed quietly and stood in the doorway, staring at the stormless sky. The moon had cleared the clouds again. The red tint had spread. He didn’t know what it meant. Only that it was coming. Whatever it was. — By sunrise, the entire house was awake. Selene stirred first, eyes fluttering open as her hand reached instinctively across the mattress. Empty. She sat up. “Theoden?” “In here,” came his voice from the other room. She followed it to find him sitting at the long oak table, Cassiel’s ancient scrolls spread out in front of him. The shard sat on the table’s center, glowing faintly. Luka and Darius were on the couch, half-asleep and half-listening. Luka was reading. Darius was watching the shard like it might bite him. Selene rubbed her eyes. “Did we move the research
They’d been in the mountain stronghold for weeks now, and nothing was clear. The books spoke in fragments. Phrases carved in ancient tongues. Symbols that looped back on themselves. Every time they thought they understood something, it unraveled into mystery again. “I swear,” Darius muttered, turning a scroll upside down for the third time, “if this next one says anything about fire or moonlight or blood, I’m eating it.” Selene cracked a tired smile. Luka didn’t look up from the page he was reading. “You’re already chewing on the end of your pen.” Darius glanced down. “That’s different. That’s frustration.” Theoden leaned against the far wall, arms crossed, blue eyes locked on the silent ritual shard still lying cold on the table. It hadn’t pulsed in days. Selene sighed and rubbed at her temples. “We’re chasing riddles in circles.” “They all hint at the door,” Luka offered. “And the balance. That you were made to guard it.” “But nothing tells us how,” Theoden said, voice low.
The air in Cassiel’s stone library felt heavier than usual. Selene and Theoden sat across from him, the flickering light of a single lantern casting shadows against the walls. Darius and Luka lingered near the doorway—quiet for once. No one was reading. No one was joking. Everyone was listening. Cassiel folded his hands slowly, his expression distant. “There were twelve of us once. Twelve Elders. Each given a piece of the seal. A fragment of the original power. We were not meant to use them. We were meant to guard them.” “Guard what?” Selene asked. Cassiel’s eyes met hers. “The door.” The room went still. Theoden’s jaw clenched. “The same door you’ve been warning us about.” Cassiel nodded. “We were meant to protect it. Nothing more. But the power behind it—it was too much. Too tempting. Too vast. One by one, the others began to question. What good was guarding something they didn’t understand? Curiosity became obsession. Obsession turned to greed.” His voice dropped. “And th
The morning air was damp and quiet. A silver fog drifted through the trees, wrapping the valley in a kind of muffled calm that didn’t match the weight pressing on Selene’s chest. She sat on the porch steps outside Cassiel’s stone house, knees pulled to her chest, watching the mist cling to the grass. Theoden stood nearby, speaking in hushed tones with Luka and Darius. Their outlines blurred through the fog, shadows moving with purpose. But even from here, she could hear the weariness in their voices. They were ready to act. But none of them had any idea where to begin. Cassiel’s revelation had changed everything. They weren’t just fighting to survive anymore. They were fighting for the survival of the universe. She felt Nova stir faintly inside her, calm and thoughtful. “Are you alright?” Selene asked. Nova was silent for a moment. “I think I’m trying to understand what we are. We were born to carry power, Selene… but what happens if the door opens again?” Selene exhaled. “
The woods were still this time of day. The kind of stillness that came not from silence, but from peace. Not the tense hush before a storm—but the exhale that follows one. Two wolves darted between the trees, pelts flashing silver white and black as they raced toward the river. Nova and Atlas—Selene and Theoden. They weren’t chasing anything anymore. Just the wind. Just the freedom they’d fought so hard to earn. They reached the river at the same time, skidding down the bank and crashing into the water with a roar of splashes and barked laughter. A few moments later, two smaller wolves barreled out of the woods, one dark gray with white paws, the other reddish-gold with eyes too clever for her age. Their children. Kael and Lyra. They tumbled into the shallows, wrestling their parents with soaked fur and wagging tails, before the whole family finally shifted back to human form, dripping and breathless. Selene grinned as she squeezed water from her hair. Theoden pulled her close, p
The earth felt still again. Not dead. Not dormant. Just… still. Like the world had exhaled for the first time in centuries and was finally resting. Selene stood at the crest of a hill just outside Silvercrest, the wind brushing through her hair. The sky was soft, the clouds drifting like whispers. Below her, warriors were gathering. Onyx wolves, Silvercrest wolves, and the remnants of what had once been scattered. Now, they were united. Whole. Behind her, Theoden walked up the hill, his steps quiet. He wrapped his arms around her waist and rested his chin on her shoulder. “Ready?” he asked softly. Selene leaned back against him. “I think… I’ve been ready for this more than anything else.” He kissed her temple, slow and lingering. “Then let’s go home.” They returned to Silvercrest first, gathering their things, tending wounds, thanking those who had fought beside them. Cassiel had moved in with the pack. It seemed fitting for the last Elder to be with the pack that guarded t
Theoden stood at the base of the archway, staring up at the massive stone door. It towered above them, ancient and unmoving, but alive in a way that made his skin crawl. The markings etched into its surface pulsed faintly, like the thrum of a heartbeat buried in rock. This wasn’t just a door—it was a wound in the fabric of the world. And they were finally going to seal it. Selene stepped beside him, her fingers brushing against his. “I remember,” she whispered, her voice steady. “I remember the words. The symbols. The rhythm.” “So do I,” Theoden replied. The last time these words had been spoken, it was by a circle of Elders. But instead of sealing the door, they’d used the ritual to erase Selene and Theoden—trapping their souls outside of time, tearing them from the world. The Elders had feared the door, but more than that, they feared the ones born to protect it. This time, the ritual would not erase them. This time, it would fulfill its purpose. Selene turned to Luka and Da
Theoden sat beneath the silver light of twilight, his back resting against the base of a cracked pillar. Smoke still curled through the trees from what was left of the battlefield, and the earth beneath him was scorched, still warm to the touch. But the worst of the fire had passed. The world was still standing. He was still breathing. He closed his eyes, inhaling slowly as he pressed a hand over his chest, where the embers of Atlas’s flame had entered him. The skin there still burned faintly—not in pain, but with something deeper. Something sacred. “You should be resting.” Atlas’s voice drifted into his mind again. Still present. Still alive. Theoden smiled faintly. “I am.” “No, you’re brooding.” A breath of laughter escaped him, but it came out soft. Fragile. “Maybe.” A long silence passed between them. “You weren’t supposed to come back,” Theoden said finally. Atlas’s voice was steady, almost too calm. “Neither were you.” Theoden let his head fall back against the ston
Aylexelen shattered into light. It wasn’t like before—no scream of rage, no final attempt at vengeance. Just one long, drawn-out silence as Selene, Nova, and Atlas poured every last ounce of their power into him. The golden light from Selene’s chest merged with Nova’s brilliance and Atlas’ fire, converging like the universe itself had been holding its breath for this moment. And then—he was gone. Ash. Dust. Nothing. The silence that followed felt too heavy to be real. Selene stood there, barely breathing, her power still pulsing at her fingertips. Nova hovered beside her, glowing in her own separate form, but Selene didn’t feel triumphant. She didn’t feel relief. She felt…something. Wrong. Her chest twisted. She turned. And her world collapsed. Theoden was lying in the dirt. Not moving. Not breathing. “No—” His skin was pale. His lips parted just slightly. His beautiful blue eyes—those eyes that had stared into hers with fire and love and life—were closed. And the b
The battlefield was glowing. Golden light and blazing fire twisted through the smoke, dancing across the scarred earth like twin storms. Nova and Atlas moved as if they had always existed separate from their hosts, as if their power had always belonged to this plane. They were magnificent—unstoppable. One, a shimmering beacon of celestial light, the other a relentless inferno tearing through darkness. Selene and Theoden stood at the center of it all, the door looming behind them. A structure ancient beyond measure. Carved from obsidian stone, humming with quiet power. And standing before them—Aylexelen. His silver eyes shone with amusement. And beneath it, something else. Hunger. He raised a hand, and the corrupted creatures that slithered and crawled behind him surged forward. But they didn’t reach Selene or Theoden. Atlas shot through the front line, a living flame ripping into the monstrous shapes, burning them into nothing. Nova followed a second later, glowing so brightl
The world tilted sideways.Selene sucked in a ragged breath, blinking through the haze clinging to her eyes. Her ears rang with silence—not peace, but a high, slicing stillness that felt like it might shatter under its own weight. Every nerve in her body screamed from the inside out, but she was alive. She was whole. Somehow.Beside her, Theoden stirred with a sharp groan, his face twisted in confusion, pain etched into every line. His chest rose in heaving, uneven gasps as he dragged himself upright, eyes wide and searching.They were alive.But the world around them didn’t feel like the one they’d left behind.The sky above rippled with the dying light of the eclipse, pale gold bleeding into deep blue like the horizon hadn’t yet decided what time it was. The ground beneath them was scorched, cracked open in jagged veins of heat, still pulsing with something that didn’t belong. Something other.Selene tried to stand, but her legs shook beneath her. Theoden steadied her instinctively
“Watch out!” Selene barely had time to dodge. A rogue lunged at her from the right—jaws wide, eyes feral—but Theoden was already there, fire lashing from his hand in a controlled arc. It caught the rogue midair, burning him to ash before he hit the ground. “Two more incoming!” Theoden shouted. Selene pivoted, golden light already pulsing at her fingertips. She sent a wave of power crashing into the approaching wolves, flinging them backward like broken dolls. The ground was slick now. Mud and blood mixed beneath her boots. War was no longer a word. It was a smell. A sound. A rhythm in her bones. “Fall back!” Luka’s voice roared through the smoke. “Darius, come on!” The two warriors appeared out of the chaos, bloodied but still fighting, retreating toward Selene and Theoden’s position. Luka skidded to a halt beside her, panting, blood dripping from a gash above his eye. “We can’t hold the line.” Darius crashed in a second later, barely on his feet. “This is insane! They just
It began with screaming. Selene jolted upright, heart hammering, as a deafening howl ripped through the trees. Theoden was already on his feet, eyes glowing, pulling her up beside him before the echo faded. They weren’t at the front. Not this time. They were at the back—the last line of defense. The door rose behind them, carved into the cliff, ancient and closed. For now. Its weight pressed against their minds, humming with silent, dormant power. War had come. They turned. The clearing ahead was already chaos. Rogues flooded from the trees like a tidal wave—snarling, clawing, feral. Selene could barely count how many. Dozens. Hundreds. Too many. Onyx and Silvercrest warriors met them with a battle cry, forming a wall of teeth and steel. Luka and Darius were there—at the center of the line, side by side, holding firm. But already, the field was slick with blood. Selene’s eyes tracked a young warrior—barely out of his teens—slashing with trembling hands before being tackled