Semua Bab When the Moon Bleeds Red: Bab 1 - Bab 8

The sky was gray when it began, the kind of gray that felt heavy, like it was holding something back.Seventeen-year-old Elara Moon stepped off the bus and pulled her hoodie tighter around her. Her school bag bounced against her hip as she crossed the empty street. The wind was sharp, slicing through her jacket like it wasn’t even there. She hated this part of town. Too quiet. Too old. The buildings looked like they remembered things no one wanted to speak about.She passed the crooked fence of the old apothecary—the one that never seemed to be open—and stopped.Something was lying at her feet.It wasn’t a flyer. Not trash.It was a letter.Perfectly clean. Untouched by the mud or the wind. Almost glowing against the pavement.Elara bent down. Her name was written across it—Elara Moon—in ink so dark it looked like dried blood. She froze. Her hands shook a little as she picked it up. The paper was warm, like skin. A strange smell rose from it—burnt roses and something sweet, almost rot

Beneath the ruins of the Black Citadel, deep in a crypt of stone and ash, the air shifted.Cold. Silent. Waiting.Chains rattled in the darkness, heavy as fate. Crimson runes pulsed across the walls, humming like a heartbeat. And in the center of the crypt, laid upon an obsidian slab, was a man. Pale as moonlight. Unmoving.Until now.The spell shattered like breaking glass.And Alaric Vellaria Vaelthorne opened his eyes.---Eighteen years of sleep.Eighteen years since Queen Elara cast her final spell—betraying the Council, rejecting the plan, turning herself into an infant to hide her powers, and cursing him to slumber until she returned.He remembered it all.Her tearful face as she whispered ancient words.The warmth of her hand against his chest.The flash of magic before the world turned black.Now… she was awake.And so was he.---Alaric sat up slowly, his body crackling with dormant power. His silver hair fell to his shoulders, eyes burning with deep crimson. A black crest g

The wind whispered her name.Alaric stood on the edge of the forest, cloaked in the silver glow of the full moon. The sky was streaked in blood-red clouds, a sign that time was thinning—just like the barrier between past and present.He didn’t need spells or maps anymore.He could feel her.Every heartbeat. Every breath.Elara.She was near.---The Garden of MemoryAt the far end of Crestfall Manor, nestled behind twisted rose hedges and marble statues, a garden still bloomed—despite the corruption spreading across the land. Black roses and silver lilies filled the air with a strange, nostalgic scent.Elara walked through them barefoot, her gown trailing over the dew-kissed grass. Her fingers gently touched petals as she passed, her thoughts heavy.“I’ve been here before,” she murmured. “I know this place.”Mark watched her from a distance, arms crossed. “That’s because it used to be yours. Your real home.”She turned sharply. “You’ve said that before.”“And I’ll say it again until y

FLASHBACK: The moonlight spilled like liquid silver over the obsidian balcony, and below, the kingdom pulsed with life—fires glowing, voices rising in celebration. The air was perfumed with night-blooming roses and distant myrrh, a scent Elara always said reminded her of home.Alaric stood at the edge of the marble balustrade, a goblet of red wine untouched in his hand. His crown, forged from black starlight and dragonbone, rested heavy on his brow, yet his shoulders bore the weight of something far greater.Behind him, the doors to the royal chamber opened with a hush.“I know that look,” Elara said softly, her silk gown whispering against the floor. “You wear it when peace feels too quiet.”He didn’t turn.“Peace has never lasted in this land,” he murmured. “Not for men like me.”“Then perhaps it’s time you stop seeing yourself as just a man.”That made him turn. Her golden eyes, radiant with the fire of a thousand suns, met his shadowed gaze. She was cloaked in deep emerald, the c