chapter 13
727 Words
Chapter Thirteen: Truth Etched in Ash
The scroll trembled in Seraphina’s hands.
Not from the wind, nor from fear.
But from truth—the kind that cracked foundations and turned loyalty into salt on the tongue.
She read the last line again:
> The fourth was sealed, not because he was unworthy, but because he made the Luna a god beside him.
Her mark burned beneath her skin.
Not in warning.
In recognition.
---
Almond sat quietly beside her, letting the weight of it settle. He didn’t speak. Not yet.
But she knew he had seen it too.
The seal.
The prophecy.
The betrayal.
It changed everything.
The Moon Goddess hadn’t only lied.
She had rewritten fate.
Seraphina’s fate.
Theirs.
---
“I have to speak to Miriam,” Seraphina said finally, rolling the scroll tight with shaking fingers.
Almond nodded. “I’ll walk you.”
“No.” Her voice was firmer now. “I have to do this alone.”
His lips parted, like he wanted to argue.
But something in her gaze — new, steady, lunar — told him not to.
---
The Priestess Tower
Miriam was already waiting when Seraphina arrived.
As if she knew.
The chamber smelled of sage and moonroot. Silver candles flickered on ancient stone.
The Priestess didn’t rise. Her long, braided hair glimmered in the pale light. She looked older tonight. As if the past had aged her in an instant.
“You read it,” Miriam said softly.
“I did.”
Seraphina stood in the center of the room, scroll in hand.
“You knew.”
Miriam sighed. “Yes.”
“And you said nothing?”
“I was sworn to silence.”
“By who?”
Miriam’s eyes glistened. “The Moon herself.”
---
Seraphina paced, her bare feet whispering across the floor.
“Why would she lie?”
“Because Theseus V was not like the others. He challenged her. He questioned the boundaries. He refused to bow.”
“She feared him.”
“She feared you, child.”
Seraphina turned sharply.
“What?”
Miriam rose slowly, robes flowing like shadows behind her.
“You were born under the Blood Moon. A once-in-a-thousand-year omen. Marked before your first breath.”
“You told me it was a blessing.”
“It was,” Miriam said. “But it was also a threat. If you bonded to Theseus, your power would rival the divine.”
“She would no longer be the only one.”
“Yes,” Miriam whispered. “She would be matched.”
---
Seraphina’s pulse thundered.
All the rules. All the bindings. The limitations. The warnings.
They weren’t there to protect her.
They were there to contain her.
Her chest rose and fell, the truth scorching her lungs.
“I was never meant to be one of many,” she whispered. “I was meant to be sovereign.”
Miriam didn’t answer.
Because she couldn’t.
---
A low hum filled the room.
Seraphina’s mark flared, glowing beneath her collarbone like molten silver.
Something was waking inside her — not Theseus.
Herself.
Her power. The one that was sealed before it could bloom.
She staggered, hands pressed to the stone table.
Visions flickered behind her eyes:
The dream-forest again.
Theseus reaching for her.
Not to pull her down… but to lift her beside him.
---
Miriam caught her.
“Easy,” she said gently.
But Seraphina’s body was burning.
Not with fire.
With truth.
“I need to see him,” she whispered.
“No—”
“I have to. Before he crosses over. Before they make me choose.”
Miriam gripped her hand. “If you call him to you, there is no turning back. He will find you.”
Seraphina met her eyes.
Steel beneath sorrow.
“Then let him.”
---
That Night...
She lit no candles.
She sat on the edge of her bed, cloak draped around her shoulders, eyes fixed on the moon outside.
It was pale again.
Flickering.
She closed her eyes.
Steadied her heart.
And whispered into the darkness:
> “Theseus… if you remember me… come.”
---
Far beyond the veil, in the collapsing seal of shadows…
A pair of silver eyes snapped open.
And for the first time in a thousand years—
The fourth Alpha stepped forward.
- Writer
