Chapter 21 — Ashes of Faith
The moon hung lower that night — crimson at its edges, as if it bled across the stars. Beneath its dying light, Pearl stood at the mouth of the ruin called Sanctum IX, where the Rebellion's next target waited — a fortress once holy, now desecrated by Kaelith's horde.
The air stank of smoke and burnt metal. Wind howled through cracked marble pillars, whispering in a voice that sounded too close to human.
Arden stepped beside her, his blade reflecting the moonlight like a sliver of guilt. "You don't have to go in first," he said, though his tone was flat — he knew she would anyway.
Pearl didn't answer. Her silver eyes shimmered faintly as she looked out over the battlefield — bones and rust and silence. Every step she took here felt like walking on the ghosts of faith.
They said Sanctum IX used to be a temple of healers — before Kaelith's flames turned the priests into ash. But rumor whispered of something else buried beneath the altar — a Lunar Core, an ancient relic that could amplify celestial power tenfold.
That was why they were here. That was why Kaelith's generals were guarding it.
And somewhere in the distance, thunder rolled — though there were no clouds in the sky.
Pearl moved first, silent and sure. Her boots crushed glass and dust, her cloak of dark silver rippling like living smoke. Behind her, five rebels followed — shadows among ruins.
Inside, the temple was colder. Statues of old gods loomed, faces melted and warped by heat. Words carved into the stone read: "Light is mercy. Mercy is death."
"Charming," Arden muttered, brushing past.
Pearl raised a hand — silence. There, faintly — a hum. Deep beneath the floor, a heartbeat not human pulsed. The Core.
Then came the sound — slow, scraping metal.
From the shadows, a figure stepped forward — tall, cloaked, his armor charred black. His face was hidden behind a mask shaped like a weeping skull. In his hands, a blade glowed red-hot.
"You should not have come here, child of the moon," the man said, voice warped by machinery. "The Core does not belong to you."
Arden drew his weapon. "And you are?"
The man's mask tilted. "They called me Father Dren. I once served the same light you did — before your kind abandoned it."
Pearl's brow furrowed. "You served Kaelith."
"I served truth," Dren hissed. "Kaelith merely showed me how false your light truly is."
Then he lunged.
The clash shook the pillars. Sparks rained as steel met celestial energy. Dren moved like a shadow on fire — each strike burning through the air with precision. Pearl countered with fluid grace, her hands glowing with moonlight that cracked the stone beneath them.
Their powers collided — dark fire against silver radiance — sending shockwaves that shattered the stained glass above.
Arden and the others rushed forward, blades drawn, but the moment they stepped into the light, the ground split open.
Chains of molten metal burst from the floor, coiling around their legs, dragging them screaming into the darkness below.
"Arden!" Pearl shouted — but his voice vanished in the roar of fire.
Dren laughed, voice echoing. "Faith burns all who follow it blindly."
Pearl's fury ignited. Light poured from her hands — white, fierce, unrestrained. She blasted forward, striking with a flurry that tore through Dren's defenses. The mask cracked, revealing part of a human face — pale, scarred, one eye glowing red.
"You think you can fight the dark," Dren spat, "but you are the dark now."
Pearl hesitated — only a breath — but it was enough.
Dren's sword pierced her shoulder. Pain flashed like lightning, silver blood dripping onto the temple floor. Her knees nearly buckled, but she didn't fall. She gripped the blade — and with one pulse of moonlight, shattered it.
The force threw Dren back, slamming him into a pillar. The mask fell completely, revealing a man long lost to both sides — half-machine, half-priest, eyes burned hollow by devotion.
Pearl stood over him, bleeding, her power flickering wild. "Where is Kaelith?"
He coughed blood, laughing softly. "Closer than you think."
Then, his chest began to glow — the mark of Kaelith's binding sigil. Pearl's eyes widened.
"Arden!" she shouted — too late.
The explosion tore through Sanctum IX.
When she woke, she was buried in ash. Her skin burned, her breath shallow. Around her, the temple was gone — nothing but a crater of dust and fire.
She dragged herself up, her vision spinning. The Core — it was gone. Stolen.
And from the edge of the smoke, a voice rose — deep, hauntingly familiar.
"You should have stayed asleep, Pearl."
Arden stepped out of the mist — but his eyes were no longer his own. They glowed with the crimson light of Kaelith's flame.
Her blood ran cold. "No…"
He smiled — but it wasn't his smile. "He offers power, Pearl. Enough to rebuild what we lost. Enough to make the moon whole again."
"Kaelith has you," she whispered.
"No," he said. "He chose me."
For the first time, Pearl felt something worse than fear — betrayal.
Her silver aura flickered, pain twisting her chest as her power raged uncontrollably. "Then you leave me no choice."
The air trembled — two energies colliding, light and shadow twisting the ruins into a storm.
Kaelith's laughter echoed faintly through Arden's voice. "Let's see if the heir can kill her last friend."
They clashed — fury against faith, grief against control. Every strike was personal. Every step they took tore the ground further apart.
And then — for a brief, broken instant — Arden's real eyes flickered through. "Run, Pearl," he rasped. "Before I—"
But Kaelith's voice drowned him out completely.
"Burn it all."
The ground beneath them cracked open — lava light bleeding upward, swallowing the last remnants of Sanctum IX.
Pearl launched skyward, her wings of silver fire tearing through the smoke. Below, the ruins collapsed into the earth, taking Arden with them.
She screamed his name, but only silence answered.
Far above, as she hovered under the dying moon, Pearl looked down at the wasteland that had once been a sanctuary. The red light of Kaelith's power was spreading — consuming land and sky.
Tears glimmered in her eyes — but they fell as silver, burning holes into the ground below.
She whispered into the wind, voice trembling but strong.
"If faith has burned to ash… then I'll rise from it."
Behind her, the moon flared — brighter than ever before — as if answering her vow.
And far away, in the depths of a blackened citadel, Kaelith watched through the flames, smiling.
"Good," he murmured. "Let her come."
The war of the Eclipse had begun.