The Falling Sky
751 Words
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CHAPTER SIX: THE FALLING SKY
The Blood Moon rose.
Massive. Red as fresh kill. It stained the mountain in crimson shadow.
Ashra stood at the summit, wind clawing through her fur. Below, wolves gathered—hundreds. Allies. Enemies. Followers. Doubters. The Hollow’s release had spread faster than wildfire. Every pack knew now:
The Moonmarked child had chosen peace.
But peace never comes easy.
Behind her, Kiren stared up at the moon.
“I feel it pulling,” he whispered.
Ashra glanced down. “The god-blood?”
He nodded. “It’s waking.”
---
Talon returned at dusk.
Not cloaked. Not surrounded by followers.
Alone.
Ashra met him at the rim of the ridge.
“You didn’t come to fight,” she said.
He shook his head. “Not tonight.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Then why come at all?”
Talon looked past her, toward the pup. “To say goodbye.”
---
They sat beneath the old pine tree—the one their father used to train them under.
Ashra hadn’t sat there since Talon died.
Or didn’t.
She still didn’t know.
Talon finally spoke.
“I remember it now,” he said. “The godlight. It came for me when I was dying. It asked me one question: Will you rise?”
“And you said yes.”
“I thought I was saving us. But it didn’t want me, Ashra. I was just the doorway.”
He turned to her.
“It wants him.”
Ashra’s throat tightened.
“It can’t have him.”
Talon smiled softly. “I know.”
---
The mountain trembled.
Not with wolves—but with power.
The sky rippled.
And from the shadows of the clouds, something descended.
Not a creature.
Not exactly.
A shape of light and gravity. Wings made of void. Eyes like galaxies dying.
Even Ashra, hardened as stone, felt her knees weaken.
The First Voice.
The ancient being whose bones birthed the Luna line.
It spoke without sound.
Return what is mine.
Kiren stepped forward.
Ashra blocked him. “No.”
The First Voice pulsed brighter.
He carries my core. He is my resurrection.
Kiren’s voice rang out.
“I am not your second coming. I’m not your vessel.”
The First Voice paused.
You deny divinity?
Ashra bared her teeth. “He chooses freedom.”
---
Lightning split the sky.
The First Voice shrieked—not in rage, but in remembrance. It poured downward, surrounding Kiren, pressing against his soul like fire through ice.
He screamed.
Ashra lunged.
Talon got there first.
He slammed into the light-being with all the god-forged strength in him.
“Run!” he shouted.
Kiren didn’t.
Instead, he sang.
Three notes. Simple. Clear.
And the First Voice shook.
The sound wasn’t wolf.
It was something older.
Something purer.
And the Voice—cracked.
Like porcelain under pressure.
---
Ashra grabbed Kiren and pulled him back.
Talon was glowing now, bones outlined with fire.
“I’ll hold it,” he growled.
“You’ll die.”
He smiled.
“I already did.”
He turned to Kiren.
“You gave me back my will. My soul. Let me give you something in return.”
Kiren’s eyes filled with tears.
Talon turned.
And roared.
The sound shattered boulders. Split trees.
The Voice reeled.
Talon leapt into it—and vanished.
---
Silence.
Then the light faded.
The sky dimmed.
And the Blood Moon shattered.
It rained down in embers.
Ashra crumpled to the ground, gasping.
Kiren stood tall, eyes dimming.
“It’s over,” he whispered.
But Ashra knew better.
---
In the days that followed, the world changed.
Without the Blood Moon, the curse faded from Luna blood.
The spiral cult disbanded—its magic broken.
And Kiren… became a legend.
Some wolves feared him. Others worshipped him.
He let none do either.
He just walked the world. Helping. Listening. Learning.
Ashra stayed behind.
She rebuilt the pack.
Taught them truth.
Taught them choice.
---
A year later, he returned.
Still small. Still quiet.
But the sky no longer called him.
He sat beside her under the pine tree.
Ashra spoke first.
“You could’ve been anything. A god. A tyrant.”
Kiren shook his head. “I just wanted to be someone you could be proud of.”
She pulled him close.
“You already are.”
---
Above them, the sky was whole.
No spirals.
No songs.
Just stars.
And in one of them, maybe—
Talon watched.
And smiled.
- Writer
