🌕 Moonblood: The Curse of Arodan
Chapter Fifteen: 15
It began with silence.
In the deep heart of Arodan's palace, beneath a floor untouched for five hundred years, the Queen stood before a circle of broken chains.
The creature knelt in shadow—its form shifting and faceless, like ashes held together by thought.
No eyes.
No voice.
No name.
Just power.
"Wake," the Queen whispered.
The thing lifted its head.
The world will forget what it was called.
But it will never forget what it did.
Far from the palace, in the calm dawn of Kareth, Draven stood at the river's edge, washing blood from his cloak.
Callen approached, rubbing his chest. The crescent mark still shimmered faintly beneath his collar.
"I had dreams," he said quietly. "In the night. I saw a woman with silver eyes. She whispered a name—Kaelen—and then the stars caught fire."
Draven tossed a stone into the river. "The Moon is showing you something."
"I don't want to be part of a prophecy," Callen said. "I just wanted to protect you."
Draven looked at him.
"You still can."
Inside the temple, Elira laid out scrolls and maps.
She pointed to a city far to the west—Veymoor, a mountain city built into cliffs and clouds.
"The third name may lie there," she said. "Old texts speak of a Moonblood princess who fled into the peaks during the fall of the Twelve. Her bloodline may have survived, hidden."
Draven leaned over the map. "Is it safe?"
Elira shook her head. "No. Veymoor is ruled by one of the Queen's oldest allies—a man called The Hollow Duke. If the name lives there… it will not come easily."
Moren stepped forward, gripping his staff.
"Also," he added softly, "the third name is bound."
Draven looked up. "What does that mean?"
Moren hesitated. "It means the third name comes with more than blood. It comes with a curse."
That evening, they left Kareth behind.
The villagers stood at the gates, offering gifts—bread, herbs, silver charms carved with the moon.
"You brought fire," the gray-cloaked woman said. "But more than that… you gave us hope."
Draven nodded, humbled.
As they turned to leave, Callen asked, "Do you really think there's rebellion out there? People still willing to follow the Moonblood?"
Elira looked back at the village one last time.
"They've already started," she said.
Far away, in a castle of red stone, a soldier whispered to his commander.
"He carries the mark. A boy. Maybe two."
The commander leaned forward, eyes gleaming.
"Then it begins."
And she drew a blade that hadn't been unsheathed since the last Moonblood king died.
In the capital, Queen Valessa stood beside her throne, watching as the nameless monster was led into the throne room.
It didn't walk.
It floated—its body breaking and reforming with each step, as if time itself struggled to hold it.
She spoke to it not with words, but with thought.
Find him.
Find them both.
And tear the prophecy apart.
The creature didn't answer.
It simply turned to smoke.
And vanished.
On the road to Veymoor, the sky grew darker than usual, though no storm came.
Draven sat beside the campfire, holding the locket. Two names pulsed now.
Arilyn. Kaelen.
One left.
Elira sat beside him. "The third name… it's not just a person. It's a bond."
"What kind of bond?" Draven asked.
She stared into the fire.
"One that could end you. Or make you more powerful than the Queen ever feared."
Draven looked into the flames.
"I guess we'll find out."