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Chapter 12: The Traitor Prince
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2025-07-28 13:18:34
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Dream Sovereign: Chronicles of the Blood Moon Chapter 20: New Constellations
The rebuilt Howling Spire—now Ember Tower Academy—rose like a white flame against the twilight sky. Lanterns of crystal cast soft violet halos across the courtyard; laughter and chatter drifted from the classrooms below. Vera Moonlock stood on the academy’s upper balcony, leaning against the carved stone parapet, her silver-threaded gown glowing in the last light of dusk. Beside her, Lucien Thornehart flexed his armored gauntlet, watching the young initiates practice dreamcraft and sentinel drills on the tiles below.“Listen,” Vera murmured, voice soft with pride. From the courtyard drifted the hum of a dozen dream-silk generators—trays of silvery thread humming with students’ fledgling energies. “They’re weaving the Circle of Shared Pain.”A group of fifteen children—human and hybrid—stood in a ring around a low crystalline pool. Their voices rose in harmony:> “By moon and fang, by silver tide,> We bind our hearts and cast aside> The fear that lingers deep inside.> In
Dream Sovereign: Chronicles of the Blood Moon Chapter 19: Throne of Ash and Snow
The amphitheater lay in ruins, its marble seats cracked and overturned, ash from the Spire’s destruction settling like gray snow. At dawn’s first light, a provisional council had gathered on the kaleidoscopic mosaic of the arena floor: defected Sentinels in battered armor, hybrid elders draped in dream-silk stoles, human guildmasters in soiled robes, and former slaves bearing scars of crystal collars. Above it all hovered the shattered constellations of Ember Hollow’s dream-lanterns, their violet glow flickering against the pale sky.Vera Moonlock stood upon the dais’s fractured dais—once the execution stage—her obsidian fang pressed at her throat scar. Beside her, Lucien Thornehart’s wolf-pulse radiated a steady warmth; his chains had been reforged into a massive symbol of unity draped across his shoulders like a mantle. The council’s murmurs hushed as Vera raised her hand.“Friends,” she began, voice clear and resonant, “we stand upon ashes and snow. Tonight, we shattered tyran
Dream Sovereign: Chronicles of the Blood Moon Chapter 18: Heart of the Mad King
Vera led Lucien across the snow-blanketed uplands, the wind howling like lost spirits through skeletal pines. Below them, the frozen lake stretched like shattered glass, its ivory expanse framed by jagged cliffs. At the far shore, Magnus waited—his polished black armor gleaming beneath the red-tinged sun, a circle of loyalists forming a silent ring behind him.“Brother,” Magnus called, voice echoing across the ice. “Come claim your birthright—or perish where you stand.”Lucien’s crimson eyes flared. He flexed his gauntlet claws as he strode forward, cloak flapping in the gale. Vera fell back, cloak drawn tight, the obsidian fang at her belt glowing faintly with dream-silk warmth.Vera stayed close behind him. “Be careful,” she called, voice firm. “He wields diluted Star-Sleep power of his own.”Lucien nodded, jaw set. “I’ve trained for this.”They stepped onto the slick surface. The frozen lake groaned beneath their boots, fracturing in radiating lines. Magnus grinned, r
Dream Sovereign: Chronicles of the Blood Moon Chapter 17: Dream Dominion
The forest’s edge gave way to a windswept plateau, its grasses crunching under Vera’s boots. Dawn’s pale light filtered through skeletal pines, casting long shadows across frost-glazed earth. She paused, breath steaming, to secure the obsidian fang at her waist and pull her cloak tighter around her shoulders. Beyond the crest lay Ember Hollow’s southern gate—her rendezvous point—and the last survivors of the purge still clung to hope beneath its arches.Vera inhaled the crisp air, tasting pine and ash. Lucien’s tracking scent had faded behind her; the creek valley swallowed his passage. Now she would draw the imperial hounds away, baiting their search into the eastern wilds. If all went to plan, refugees would slip north under cover of dawn.A distant crack made her heart stutter. She whipped around as a column of six armored riders emerged—a patrol of Gamma cavalry, visors down, lances poised. They fanned out in a semicircle, horses stamping and snorting in the brittle grass.
Dream Sovereign: Chronicles of the Blood Moon Chapter 16: Red Eclipse
The sky-cycle’s twin engines roared beneath them as Vera and Lucien raced from the smoldering ruins of Skyforge Citadel. Dawn’s first pale light bled through lingering smoke, but the halo of the Blood Moon still glowed crimson on the horizon. Lucien guided the cycle down the battered stone ramp, his talons of metal and bone gripping the throttle’s edge. Vera leaned forward, clutching the obsidian fang at her waist, dream-silk thread still twined around her throat scar.“Hold on!” Lucien barked over the wind. He kicked free the sky-cycle’s boarding ramp, and they launched down the slope into the jagged peaks beyond the Citadel walls.They flew low over the shattered battlements, rebels waving victory flags that snapped like bloodied banners. Behind them, the Spire of Storms smoldered, its broken turbines wreathed in prismatic dust. Yet the pulse-weapon’s remnants still hissed in the air—a warning that the empire’s wrath would not fade in mere hours.Lucien banked left, skirting
Dream Sovereign: Chronicles of the Blood Moon Chapter 15: Falling Crowns
The courtyard was a sea of rebels and freed hybrids, but atop its northern battlements, the sky loomed dark with storm-scarred clouds. Vera and Lucien paused at the base of the Spire of Storms’ final ascent—a spiral ramp of obsidian and shattered crystal, slick with rain and residue of etheric discharge. Below, the rebels held the keep; above, the core chamber awaited.Lucien placed a hand on Vera’s shoulder. “This is it,” he murmured. “Once we breach the command dais, it’s over.”Vera nodded, throat tight with determination. “No more half measures.” She drew her dagger, its silver blade etched with a lattice of dream-silk sigils.They climbed in silence, torchlight glinting on fractured quartz. From above came the roar of loyalist forces massing on the parapets—Magnus’s last stand. As they rounded the final bend, two paths forked: to the left, the central dais chamber; to the right, a spiraling walkway ringed by grav-armor sentinels.Lucien hissed, “They’ve anticipated our
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