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Chapter 20 Best to Retreat
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2021-08-21 09:17:26
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Will Bear the Moon Chapter 104 Prt. II Tumbling Down
*Admiral Nugen*The room heard it before it understood it—the thin, surrounding chime of metal striking frozen stone. Clink... clink...It bounced. One step. Then another down the dais. Each clang was hollow and soft, yet somehow stealing breath from every throat. The roaring tide of heated argument—the fanged protests, the open sneers—ripped away like silk twine torn from a corset. Every thrashing voice silenced by that small, terrible sound.As if all were lost to it. As if the unfathomable had finally given in.It spun once, firelight catching in its delicate tines, before tipping forward and landing face-down at the very bottom step—the sound splintering through the chamber, something more concave. Final. Still.Like a rose snapped at the stem.And then—it was her turn.A cascade of silver hair filled Nugen's vision like a waterfall of cursed moonlight breaking through the shadows between the dark skies. Fragile and thin. Where moonlight shouldn't be.No!His heart didn't beat—i
Will Bear the Moon Chapter 104 The Weight of Nothing
*Anastasia*Something is wrong.I feel it the moment I step through the archway. Like a wrongness that crawls up my spine in frozen fingers seeking bone.The fire pits are overstocked, logs piled high enough to throw heat that should comfort. Emphasis on the should, yet the cold cuts straight through the thin soles of my slippers. Climbing my legs with the persistence of rising water. It settles between my shoulder blades, coils at the base of my skull under my braid like a serpent made of ice.The air stinks of smoke and iron and something faintly sour beneath it all, like a room shut too long.Too loud. Too exposed. Too empty.Stone answers stone as I cross the threshold, each footfall ringing sharper than it should, as though the hall itself has become a drum and I'm the stick beating against it. The announcer bellows my name—formal, booming, reverent as always. As usual, it’s followed by the familiar trigger, a wave of acknowledgment.But that only enhances what is wrong."Your Em
Will Bear the Moon Chapter 103 Prt. III So Begins Good Intent By Poor Design
*Bruno*The door clicked shut behind them. A soft, final sound—yet somehow it echoed through the study like a judge's gavel, like trap snapping on a mouse. Bruno flinched at it. Or maybe at the silence that rushed in after, thick and suffocating as wool pressed over mouth and nose.Either way, footsteps faded down the corridor- Ana’s soft sfft sfft of slippers over stone, Nugen’s clink of sword against leather holster- muffled by oak and distance until even their phantoms dissolved into nothing. And even when silence reigned absolute, Bruno didn't move.Couldn't, if he was being honest with himself. He stood lost in that fractured space—shoulders rigid beneath his muslin tunic that suddenly felt thinner than a breath of paper,fingers curled so tightly into the hem that his knuckles ached. The rough fabric bunched in his fists, damp with nervous sweat he hadn't realized was gathering.His burgundy gaze dropped to the heart of the tray—the cup of blood. Once fresh, it had begun to cl
Will Bear the Moon Chapter 103 Prt. II Wake to Ash
*Anastasia*My eyes rip open as I jerk up right. Blinding light floods my vision sharp and searing. Frigid air claws into my lungs like frozen fingers seeking my heart, each gasping a drowning in reverse, pulling in ice instead of water.And then it hits me. Pain. It flares across my lip like a match struck. The taste hits immediately. Copper and Salt.My hand flies to my mouth, fingers trembling against wetness. Blood. Just a smear—my own, warm and real—but enough to make my stomach twist into knots that won't untangle. I've bitten through my lip hard enough to break skin, hard enough to wake myself with pain rather than let the dream continue.The pain anchors me. Tells me I'm alive. Awake. Here.But where is here?Confusion floods over my head. And it takes me a moment to register my surroundings. Shapes blur and sharpen, familiar but wrong, like looking at home through broken glass. Then the scent hit-not snow and ash and Nicoli's blood, but ink. Old wood. Candle wax. Paper and s
Will Bear the Moon Chapter 103 Thin Thread Prt. I
*Ana*Snow falls inside the room.It drifts down in slow, impossible spirals between wooden rafters that shouldn't exist in a desert palace, each flake suspended in silence thick enough to choke on. They kiss my bare skin with tiny deaths. Soft, cold, gone, melting before they can accumulate, leaving trails of shimmering droplets that feel like tears I haven't shed yet.The walls around me wear familiar stones but wrong memories. Stone, yes, the same pale marble veined with hairline cracks I know by heart, but the windows are changed. They stretch too tall, too narrow, pointed at the tip as if spearing the heavens, rimmed in hoarfrost as though this place has always belonged to winter's cruelty rather than Nochten's scorching sun and endless sand.My breath curls upward in small ghosts, rising through the cold to whimper out into voidless white fluff above where a ceiling should be but isn't.I am not alone in this blizzard of alabaster silence.Nicoli stands before me.His posture i
Will Bear the Moon Chapter 102 The Sound of Her Steps
*Johan*The hall should have felt the same. Johan had walked this corridor a thousand times before. During storms that rattled the windows like bones. During celebrations that gilded the walls with laughter. And on sleepless nights when duty was a weight and sunlit mornings when it was a privilege.But tonight was different.Everything was twisted. Altered like the weight of nightmare’s geometry. Its’ truth pressing between his ribs with each hollow step toward the south wing, Nicoli's wing, had transformed familiar into foreign. The safety of red runners beneath his feet felt like walking on sanguine. The same portraits that had watched him for decades now seemed to track his movement with eyes that knew too much.Every flicker of candlelight stretched longer than it should, , reaching for him with fingers of shadow. Every echo of his footfall was swallowed too quickly, as if the stones themselves wanted no memory of his passing. As if the palace was already revolting against him.T
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