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Chapter 119: The Council of young ones
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2025-10-22 23:22:01
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CROWNED BY BLOOD Chapter 120: Marcus's Rest
They said someone had torn it open in the night, that the villagers had dragged the stones away and scattered the dirt as if trying to erase his name from the world itself.Marcus. The betrayer. The trusted advisor whose counsel I had followed into darkness. The man whose choices had chained me to the curse, whose manipulation had almost damage the life of my children, whose conspiracy with Aldric had almost ended everything I loved and left the world in ruins.Part of me thought he deserved the silence and erasure. Thought that a man who had orchestrated such suffering should have no memorial, no marker to show he had walked this earth. Let him be forgotten as completely as he had tried to make me forget my own humanity.But another part still capable of mercy knew that silence was just another kind of lie. That refusing to acknowledge the dead, even the ones who had done terrible things, was a way of refusing to fully reckon with truth.So I went alone to find what remained of his
CROWNED BY BLOOD Chapter 119: The Council of young ones
I walked barefoot into the sanctuary hall, having removed my shoes at the threshold as a gesture of humility and vulnerability. The hall smelled faintly of candle wax and earth.They were sitting in a circle on the floor, eight of them, maybe nine, my count uncertain in the shifting moonlight. Some were barely old enough to speak in complete sentences, their words still adorned with the charming imprecision of early childhood. One girl clutched a broken locket in hands that trembled slightly, the chain snapped and the two halves no longer closed properly. Another boy stared at me with such fierce stillness that my breath hitched in my throat, his gaze neither hostile nor welcoming but simply watching, assessing, trying to determine if I was safe or if he needed to be ready to flee or fight, his eyes were ancient with the knowledge of betrayal."Luna of Hollowshade," one of the older students said, she spoke with the careful formality of someone trying to maintain dignity in the face o
CROWNED BY BLOOD Chapter 118: The Starborn Pact
The summons had come three nights ago through dreams. Visions of constellation-beings speaking in voices that resonated in my bones, telling me I was needed for something I couldn't yet comprehend. My children had received the same dreams, confirming this was not madness or wishful thinking but genuine contact from powers that existed beyond ordinary reality.We arrived at the Astral Court through a veil of starlight that manifested at the edge of the Sanctuary grounds when the moon reached its zenith. The passage was unlike any portal I had traveled before, a gradual dissolution of the physical into the celestial. Each step took us further from the solid ground, our feet walking on what felt like crystallized light until only constellations remained beneath and above us.Even after everything we had been through, the curse, the wars, the years of estrangement and painful reconciliation they looked at me not as a monster but as Luna, complicated, flawed but somehow still worthy of the
CROWNED BY BLOOD Chapter 117: The Last Cursekeeper
The sky had been quiet for weeks after the storm, painted each evening in gentle watercolors that spoke of peace. The stars burned steady and constant, the moons followed their ordained paths.I had started to believe, with the dangerous hope of someone who had been disappointed too many times, that the world had finally learned peace. That we had passed through the fire and emerged tempered rather than broken. That the cycles of violence and vengeance had finally, truly, been broken.Foolish thought. How many times would I need to learn this lesson before it stuck? The curse never dies but at least it's not in me, it only hides, dormant like seeds waiting for the right conditions, until it finds another voice, another willing vessel, another soul hungry enough to invite darkness in.He came at twilight, that liminal hour when day has not quite surrendered to night and the world exists in a state of beautiful uncertainty. The Last Cursekeeper, he called himself when he appeared at th
CROWNED BY BLOOD Chapter 116: Night of the Red Veil
One moment the sky was clear, painted in the soft pastels of twilight, the next, it split open like a wound, bleeding crimson light across the heavens.They called it the Red Veil, and whispers spread through the gathered realms faster than fire through dry grass. Some said it was divine judgment that finally came to collect what I owed, others claimed it was the curse returning, that my corruption had merely been sleeping and was now awakening to finish what it had started. A few suggested it was the end of all things, apocalypse written in blood across the sky.I stood at the edge of the sanctuary garden. The wind lashed through my hair like claws every howl of the storm. The same storm that once lived inside me, that had raged through my soul and poisoned everything it touched, was now painting the world in its color. Crimson. Blood-red. The color of guilt made manifest.And they came, as I had known they would. As they had to.The emissaries of old grudges arrived through portal
CROWNED BY BLOOD Chapter 115: The Sanctuary School
Before me stood the Sanctuary School, the vision my children had spoken of with increasing passion since the war's end, their eyes bright with possibility as they described what education could be when freed from the constraints of suspicion and ancient hatreds. They had worked for months on the design, consulting with architects from every realm, ensuring that no single culture dominated the aesthetic, that every person who sent students would see something of themselves reflected in the structure.Its halls rang with laughter, the joyful noise of young people discovering friendship across boundaries that had once seemed absolute, finding common ground in shared curiosity and the universal awkwardness of adolescence. Through the open windows, I could hear conversations in languages I didn't recognize, punctuated by giggles and the occasional mock-serious debate about whose magical tradition was superior in terms of style if not necessarily function.All gathered together, at least wi
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