Semua Bab CROWNED BY BLOOD: Bab 121 - Bab 127

Hollowshade carried no screams anymore, no echoes of violence or pleas for mercy that once haunted these heights. Only the purposeful hum of stone being laid with careful hands, the steady rhythm of hammers striking true, and the laughter of those who once feared me now working alongside those who never knew me as anything but teacher and guardian. The world was rebuilding itself, stone by stone and choice by choice, and I, its former monster, its once-destroyer was allowed to witness it.The privilege of bearing witness felt almost sacred after so many years when I had been the cause of destruction rather than an observer of creation.The Eternal Watchtower rose from the cliffs like a promise carved into reality, its foundation deep in bedrock that had stood since the world was young, its spires reaching toward heavens that had finally learned to shine again. Its walls shimmered faintly with starlight and soul-fire, the magical signatures visible even to mortal eyes, built from the s

The air smelled of rain and forgiveness, that particular scent that comes after a storm has passed and the earth is washing itself clean. I walked barefoot through the glade where so much had happened, my feet finding the same paths I had run as wolf, where claws had torn earth and blood had stained stones. Each step sank into ground that was soft and welcoming, earth that once rejected me as contaminated but which now welcomed me home like a mother embracing a wayward child.This was where I screamed as my body remade itself, bones breaking and reforming, humanity bleeding away as the wolf emerged. Where I became the monster my children would have to fight, the nightmare that would haunt them for years.The memory burned, immediate and visceral despite the years that had passed. But it no longer owned me the way it once had, no longer defined every thought and feeling, no longer dictated who I was allowed to become.I lay down on my side, lowering myself slowly until my cheek pressed

The air was still that evening in a way that felt intentional rather than accidental: no wind disturbing the leaves, no birdsong breaking the silence, just the rhythmic sound of chisels against stone that rang like heartbeats across the garden. The students of the Sanctuary knelt in concentric circles around the monument.The monument had grown over the years since its founding, expanding organically as more names needed recording. Rows upon rows of letters etched into pale marble that seemed to glow faintly in certain lights, circling the sacred tree that had grown from Kai's seed and which still pulsed with his lingering presence. The tree had become massive now, its branches spreading wide enough to shelter dozens beneath its canopy.I stood at the edge of the gathering. I watched as each child stepped forward in turn when their name was called, approaching the stone with expressions that ranged from solemn to fearful to quietly determined.I stepped forward into the circle where t

(Two Hundred Years Later)The child asked the question all children eventually asked."Was Luna real?"The Keeper of Stories, an old woman whose silver hair caught the light from Kai's Tree just so smiled and set down her pen. The library around them hummed with the quiet energy of thousands of volumes, each one containing fragments of truth passed down through generations. But none were as worn as the book she had been transcribing, its pages filled with Luna's own hand."Real as the tree that shelters us," the Keeper said, gesturing to the window where ancient branches spread wide, their bark still glowing faintly with celestial light. "Real as the stones you walk on. Real as the air you breathe.""All of that is true," the Keeper replied, and at the child's confused expression, she laughed softly. "Come. Let me show you something."She led the girl through corridors lined with portraits, some painted, a few captured in the newer art of light-drawing that the scholars had recently p