Todos os capítulos de Echoes of Moonfire: Capítulo 71 - Capítulo 80

~Eira The air in the dungeons was damp with decay. Torches flickered weakly along the stone corridors, casting long shadows on the walls. The scent of mildew clung to everything, and the deeper we descended, the more silence wrapped around us like a noose. Only the occasional clink of armor or the creak of wood echoed through the halls. I led the charge, my footsteps urgent, casting a soft light ahead of me as the Cast-Outs followed. The cells were lined in rows, iron bars twisted with age and magic, holding in the surviving Lunar Sentients. Their eyes widened when they saw me. “Eira,” one whispered, reaching through the bars. I didn’t hesitate. With a flick of my fingers, the lock hissed and cracked open. “You’re safe now. We’re here to free all of you.” One by one, the cells were opened. Some of the Sentients wept, clutching our arms as they stumbled out. Others needed help standing. Many bore bruises, wounds, the marks of captivity. But one thing was clear: they were a

~Eira Night blanketed Moon Shadow in silence. The kind of silence that clung to your skin, that made your heartbeat feel too loud, your breathing too obvious. I moved through the hallways like a shadow, barefoot on the stone floors, a small bag slung across my shoulder, cloaked in a traveling coat. Ryan’s words echoed in my head. Run, Eira. Run. I crept down a corridor, hugging the walls, eyes sharp for movement. The torches on the walls flickered in the breeze that slipped through the window slats. My heart pounded like it was trying to escape before I could. Almost at the exit. “Eira?” I froze. A young Sentient stood at the far end of the hall, rubbing his eyes. “Where are you going? You know you’re not allowed to leave the palace, right?” I swallowed. “I know. I just—I need air. Fresh air. Just this once, can’t you let me?” His eyes narrowed. “Why are you carrying a bag then? Do you plan to put air in it and bring it back inside for later use?” I looked do

~Eira Everything ached. The first thing I felt was the weight of my limbs. Like I’d been buried under sand and dream and magic for centuries. The second thing I felt was the warmth of something soft brushing against my cheek. Gentle. Rhythmic. Real. My eyes fluttered open slowly. Riley. She was standing over me, ears perked, violet eyes wide. Her little white paws shuffled anxiously as she tilted her head. Her fur glowed faintly, like the light hadn’t yet caught up with the dawn. I blinked at her. Then at the sky above us. Red. Cloudless and red. I sat up, groaning softly. My bones felt like they had been rearranged and then thrown back in the wrong order. Everything came rushing back. Caelum. The poison. His voice. His betrayal. I dropped to my knees with a whimper I didn’t mean to release. My bag fell beside me, spilling out a few supplies. The creature—the one who had saved me from him—chirped nervously. But I couldn’t look at her. I couldn’t look at

~CaelumThe blast hit me hard. Not enough to kill, but enough to sting. Enough to humiliate.I staggered back, clutching my side, the heat of the fireball still sizzling against my ribs. The tiny creature — Riley, the damn ceratopod — had eyes brighter than the moons and spells packed in her like a ticking star. And then, she vanished.With Eira.Gone.I stood there for a long time in the clearing, my breath coming in shallow bursts, hand twitching around the edge of my coat. I stared at the spot where she’d been. The place where her body had glowed, rising into the sky, and left me behind. Like I was nothing.“Damn it.”I had one job. One mission. And I’d failed.My hands curled into fists. Where could she have gone? The ceratopods were erratic, unpredictable. Magical anomalies. No scent trails. No signature. She could be halfway across the realm, or just below my feet.I didn’t know.And that terrified me.But Queen Seraphina had to.I summoned the teleportation rune, etching it mid

~EiraObsidian burned.From where I hovered—high above it all, suspended in the center of a sky split by storms—I could see everything. The towers were crumbling. Smoke billowed in furious plumes. The sacred streets I once walked barefoot now split open like old wounds, bleeding fire and stone.Below, the Lunar Sentients and the Horax were locked in a battle that had no rhythm, no end, no mercy.Their magic painted the air in streaks of silver and black—light clashing with dark, swords swinging between spellfire, and blood soaking into cracked stone. I watched a Sentient, young and trembling, hurl a disc of glowing moonlight at a Horax warrior—only to be impaled by a jagged obsidian spear before her spell even landed. She fell beside the man she killed. Both turned to ash when the next blast hit.Screams were like wind now—constant, shifting, endless.And then there was Aeron.He moved like a man fighting time itself. His shirt was torn, his hands bleeding as he pulled one survivor af