Semua Bab Echoes of Moonfire: Bab 131 - Bab 140

~Kyle The book didn’t look like much at first to be honest. If anything, it looked too old and too pathetic to carry any useful information. The pages were yellowed, the cover half-eaten by time and maybe rats, and the spine crackled every time I turned a page. Nothing screamed forbidden in this book—but then again, the real ones never did. I sat on the worn library floor, legs crossed, back against the crooked bookshelf. Beside me, she was slumped over her arms, head resting on a book she hadn’t even finished flipping through. I thought she’d just dozed off. Normal. Cute, even. She’d been tired. We both were. But then the book I was holding whispered. Not audibly. Not in the haunted manor sense. But my hands went cold. My skin prickled. The air shifted around me like something was watching. I looked down and there it was—barely a line scrawled in the margins. A language I didn’t know but could suddenly read. Protective Warding: All intrusions from the unbound shall invoke curse

~Ivy I thought my eyes were playing tricks on me but when I moved closer, I knew they weren’t. It was actually my mom. She looked nothing like I remembered. She looked dangerous, powerful and scary as hell. Her eyes were glowing and she hovered over the floor at a reasonable distance. I turned around hoping to see the hooded figure but I didn’t see him anymore. I called out to him but I was replied with silence. The racing in my chest told me to run but I didn’t. The air shifted—just enough for me to notice. Then… it was gone. I turned towards where my mom was but she simply wasn’t there anymore. No sound. No flicker of robes. Nothing. It was almost like she was never there. I exhaled—too fast, too loud—and turned back toward the far wall. She was there. Close. So close I felt the brush of warm breath against my cheek. My knees almost buckled, but my body betrayed me—I didn’t move, couldn’t move. Her gaze pinned me in place, a pale white glow humming faintly in the dar

~Clone Aeron The order was not spoken. It slid into my mind like a shard of black glass, smooth and cold, pressing until I understood. Find the destabilizing variable. No name. No location. Just the impression of movement through the western forest and the faintest pull, like gravity turned personal. The pull had been there before — small, distant — but now it yanked like a hooked line, tightening with every breath. I adjusted the leather strap of my gauntlet and started walking. It was an order that I had to execute alone. I didn’t know what the “destabilizing variable” was but following the directions given, I was convinced I would find what I was sent to find. The barracks behind me dissolved into the treeline. The air here was damp with moss and rotting leaves, the kind of damp that clung to skin. Above, the moonlight bled through jagged branches. I moved in silence, every step measured. I’d been built for this — moving unseen, unnoticed — but tonight something felt… differ

~Kyle The night swallowed me whole the moment I left the safety of the hut’s glow. The forest ahead was a wall of shadow and whispering branches, each gust of wind making the leaves murmur like conspirators. I didn’t hesitate. My boots sank into damp earth, and the smell of moss and rain-soaked bark filled my lungs. The only light came from the thin silver thread of the moon, just enough to paint the treetops in cold fire. I couldn’t see him at first—only the faint disturbances he left behind. A branch swaying without wind. A patch of ferns shivering as if brushed by something swift and careful. His footsteps were nearly silent, but my ears caught a rhythm: the faint scrape of leather, the soft crunch of soil. I followed. The deeper I went, the heavier the air became. It was as though the forest itself didn’t want me here. The calls of night creatures faded, replaced by an unnatural stillness. My heartbeat seemed too loud in the quiet, a drum summoning something I wasn’t ready t

~Ivy The air felt heavier than before, pressing in, thick and damp. I couldn’t name why, but something about the room had shifted. The wind outside hadn’t changed, and yet… my skin prickled as though invisible fingers brushed along my arms. A faint sound whispered under the howl of the wind — not quite a hiss, not quite a sigh, more like breath dragged through a hollow space. My stomach tightened. I glanced toward Caelum. He stood with his back half-turned to me, watching the far wall as if it were more interesting than the fact we were sitting in a rotting tower in the middle of nowhere. His stillness made my nerves worse. “Do you feel that?” I asked, my voice lower than I meant it to be. He didn’t answer. The unease crawled up my spine, urging my eyes downward. That’s when I saw it. Mist — thicker than smoke, paler than moonlight — had coiled up from the cracked flask at my side. It hung in the air like it was listening, like it knew I’d finally noticed. And in the m