Black Lantern Oaths Novels & Stories

“You don’t remember me?” She stared. Then it clicked. The banquet. He was the man who caught her when she nearly fell. The only one who didn’t rush toward Elliot. “You...” she said slowly. “You were at the banquet.” Sarah’s lips parted slightly. “Wait, you’re the one who saved me?” “Yes,” he said simply. “ I'm Damien Blackwood. I found you bleeding in the alley behind that hotel. Don’t worry, you’re safe now.” She blinked. “Thank you. I don’t even know what would’ve happened if you hadn’t saved me.”

On the day of my coming-of-age ceremony, the two men who cherish me above all else are absent. One is Vittorio Luciano, the only son of the Luciano family from the east, while the other is Carlos Gambino, the heir to the Gambino family from the south. This is a matter that could easily be settled with a few words, yet they try to think up all sorts of excuses to brush me off. "Anna, a gunfight has broken out at the port to the north, so I really can't step away." "I have to hold a family meeting with the elders. I can't skip it." However, the two men have barely hung up on me when I see them appear beside my adopted younger sister, Liliana Siciliano, at her coming-of-age ceremony. The

“If you wander into the wrong place, you don’t just risk yourself. You risk everything tied to you.” “Then tell me what I’m tied to!” He didn’t answer. But that night, guards appeared at the ends of her corridor. Not close enough to touch. Close enough to watch. Meanwhile, in another part of the city, Nyx Calder sat in a room full of smoke and glass. Nyx smiled like someone who enjoyed secrets more than power. “The Drays have activated the Velvet Oath,” Nyx said. A woman beside him frowned. “You’re sure?” “Very. They’ve hidden their key in the old hill house.”

We’d all had smaller lantern nights in our own ways—at the sanctuary, in Nightveil’s border camps, in Bloodthorn villages trying to find a new shape. Tonight was the first official joint one. “Ready?” Rian asked, offering me a lantern. It was simple—white paper with a faint inked crescent, a small rune‑stone hanging in its center. “Yes,” I said. And I meant it. *** Far to the west, beyond the dark smear of distant trees, the first wave of lanterns rose from Nightveil’s forests. Green‑tinted lights bobbed up through the canopy, their glow flickering like stars caught in branches before breaking free.

“There are too many queens in this story.” The girl extended the bowl. Inside the salt lay a small black tooth. Orochi’s. The crowd below stopped chanting. Every head turned toward the lighthouse. The girl smiled. Not like a child. “Come receive your kingdom.” The red lanterns ignited at once. Their flames stretched upward, forming a cage over Silvercrest. And the blood moon festival began. Scene 113: The Blackout The girl dissolved into ash. Raiken struck the doorway with blue fire, but the ash slipped through the cracks and vanished into the wind.

He smiled, remarking how that day had replayed in his mind continuously for the past six years. As the witches commenced their chant in an unfamiliar tongue, a sudden wind began to displace items from the table, sending papers into a flurry. The candles, once lit, flickered to black. Krystal urged everyone to retreat, explaining that black candles signify malevolence and expressing her doubts about the ritual. Her mother reassured her, insisting that this needed to transpire for life to progress positively.

The witches closed in, their laughter echoing like a chorus of nightmares. Something inside Aqua snapped. A surge of dark energy, unfamiliar and terrifying, welled up within her. She felt her pendant grow hot against her skin, the clear crystal turning black as smoke. The air around her crackled with raw power as she turned back towards the attackers, her fear morphing into a blinding rage.

“Long story short, the blood witch extracts blood from both parties and blesses it. Once blessed she mixes them together and pours it over a ceremonial candle. As Dante is the one making the oath of loyalty to Mykel it’s our packs candle that’s to be used.” “Ok I understand but how do you know it’s worked? If it’s his witch what if she just says some fancy words, puts on a magic show but hadn’t actually done it?” I couldn’t help but laugh at her scepticism. Though had I not known all there was to know I guess I would have been sceptical too. “When the blood is poured over the candle and both parties have recited their oath it will ignite. Once ignited the one requesting the oath is magically

If war erupted before the eclipse, the prophecy’s shadow might fall early, and nothing would hold back the Hollow’s echo. Maxim stepped forward. “Name the oath.” The emissary’s voice carried like a blade drawn from its sheath. “You will swear by fang and flame that the Vale shall remain free of conquest, that moon-silver will be mined only for the good of all packs, and that your life will stand as guarantee. Should you betray this, your blood will return to the earth that bore it.” Gasps rustled through the chamber. A vow older than crowns, older even than the Hollow’s rise. To swear it was to surrender every claim of dominion, to become servant to the Vale itself.