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The Quiet War
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2025-07-12 21:02:48
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The Last Moonbane Reset on Our Terms (3)
Seraphina’s POVAt the stairs to the basement, we pressed fingers through the bars and felt cold damp air rising. It smelled like stone and old water. And something sweeter beneath it, like bruised fruit. I didn’t like the way that made me think of the color red.By the time we moved through the square again, the sun’s angle had deepened. It was still day, but shadows had lengthened into something with teeth.We didn’t stop at the bakery.Back in the room, the door looked worse under afternoon light. The crack across the central panel had reached the iron band; brown sap had bled along the split and hardened there, tacky to the touch—if wood could sweat, this was it. The shimmer on the threshold held, but farther out on the frame, in the corners and the seams, it thinned. You could see the air ripple where it tugged.Thalia set her bundle of copied notes down like something brittle that might break if she wished it to. Nyra cleared the table with methodical care and began making dupli
The Last Moonbane Reset on Our Terms (2)
Seraphina’s POV“Hidden door?”“More like hidden consent.” He stood, eyes scanning the transept. “These tiles are telling a story. You see it?”“Time that welcomes you in,” I said. “And time that snaps its teeth.”He huffed a humorless breath. “Pretty much.”We moved up the aisle. Behind the altar, a small door sat flush to the wall, its wood painted to match the paneling. It would have vanished if you didn’t know to look for uneven varnish—someone had repainted often. The handle was smooth from use. Elias tried it. It didn’t turn.“Locked,” he said.“Of course it is.”He bent, studying the bronze plate around the keyhole. It was notched at four points, tiny glints of star-metal winking from the corners. Star-iron, mined from the mountains, hammered thin, fitted clean. Too small for a blade to get purchase. Too precise for a pick.“Special key,” he said, straightening. “Not a rod. Something shaped.”“Like a sunwheel,” I said, thinking of the floor. “Or a medallion.”“Or a bookplate,”
The Last Moonbane Reset on Our Terms (1)
Seraphina’s POVMorning came without mercy.The town looked gentle beneath it—lanterns snuffed, shutters propped open, the square rinsed in gold—but the gentleness felt like a lie we’d already read to the end. Inside the inn room, our victory was simple and unadorned: four of us upright, four of us breathing. We’d held through the night. No one had fallen. No loops had snapped shut around us.Relief arrived—and passed. Because the door told the rest of the story.The iron-banded wood sagged on its hinges, hairline fractures spidering out from each gouge where claws had raked at the barrier’s skin. Splinters sprouted along the grain like a field of pale weeds. A new crack had appeared through the center panel, thin as a thread but deep, and when the light slid across it I could see it widen, the way a wound opens when the muscles beneath it flex.Thalia lifted the latch with two fingers. Even that light touch made the whole frame creak.“We won’t get another night out of this,” she sai
The Last Moonbane The Pieces in the Library
Seraphina’s POVThe sunlight was warm, almost mocking. After the hours of pounding claws and shrieking things outside the inn’s door, the town felt almost… ordinary.Birds chirped from the crooked gutters, and a thin breeze rustled through the banners strung between the houses. A farmer passed us on the street, tipping his straw hat in greeting. His donkey cart rattled over the cobblestones as though nothing in the world had ever been wrong.But the four of us knew better.The inn door behind us hung crooked now, its frame splintered where the creatures had battered against it through the night. The pale shimmer that had held them back was weaker, thinner. I didn’t need to touch the wood to know: one more night like last, and the barrier would break.We didn’t say it aloud. We didn’t need to.Instead, Thalia tightened her cloak around her shoulders and led the way down the street. “The library,” she said. Her voice was brisk, determined. “We waste no time today.”Nyra nodded, eyes nar
The Last Moonbane The Cracks in Sanctuary
Seraphina’s POVThe first light of morning crept through the shutter slats, gray and reluctant, but to us it was salvation. The sounds had ceased hours ago—the scraping claws, the pounding fists, the guttural screeches outside our door. For the first time, all four of us were still breathing when dawn returned.Relief swelled in my chest, sharp and fleeting, because it came with another realization: survival wasn’t victory. Not here. Not in this cursed town.Thalia stretched stiffly, leaning against the wall with her sword across her lap. Her face was pale, hair plastered to her temples with sweat, but she managed a grim smile. “We made it.”Elias gave a low laugh, more exhale than amusement. “Barely. But yeah. One night.”I wanted to echo them, to let relief have its place, but my eyes drifted toward the door. The iron-banded wood sagged on its hinges, deep cracks running along the grain where claws had raked again and again. In the center, a splintered hole had appeared, no bigger t
The Last Moonbane The Fifth Strike
Seraphina’s POVI woke to the sound of bells.Eleven sharp tolls, each reverberating in the hollow space of the inn’s common room.My chest rose, then fell. I didn’t need to ask what time it was. The rules of this place had already carved themselves into my bones: morning always began here, at eleven.I sat up slowly, the blanket sliding from my shoulders. Around me, the others were already awake. Thalia stood with her arms crossed near the hearth, Elias was pacing a groove into the floorboards, and Nyra crouched by the table, her dark braid falling over one shoulder.The room itself… was wrong.Loose sheets of paper littered the table, curling at the edges as if they had been torn in haste. Rust-colored stains streaked across several pages, the kind of stains no one needed to name aloud. The smell lingered, faint but metallic. My gaze dragged itself to the wall beside the hearth.Words had been gouged into the wood with something sharp. Most of them had been hacked out again, leaving
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