Chapter 10 : A voice Beneath the Moon
The fire had long died down, but the sky still held its breath.
Aelira stood at the edge of the clearing, cloak fluttering in the cold night wind. The scent of burnt pine and wet moss clung to everything. Her fingers still tingled from the wards they had broken. Her eyes scanned the treeline, but no one followed. Not yet.
Beside her, Kaeln kept silent. His jaw was tight, eyes fixed ahead like he expected the forest itself to turn against them. Behind them, the crumbled stone chamber that had once protected the Grimoire now smoldered with dying magic.
They had taken what they came for. But they hadn't left unseen.
"I feel it," she whispered.
Kaeln's voice was low. "So do I."
It wasn't just that Vyra had followed them. It was something older. Deeper. Something that stirred when Aelira touched the Grimoire and called her by that name again.
Saelwyn.
Not just a name.
A history.
A sin.
A promise.
"Let's move," Kaeln said. "We're too exposed here."
Aelira nodded. She could still feel the eyes. Not human. Not even witch. Something else.
Something that knew her.
---
They didn't return to the dormitories or even the outskirts of Bloodroot. Instead, they moved through an abandoned trail that only a few of the older witches spoke of—used long ago, before the forest was claimed by the Coven's spells.
The moon was low by the time they reached an old ruin: an arched stone shelter swallowed by vines and silence.
Aelira collapsed to the floor. Her knees gave out. Her hands shook.
Kaeln dropped beside her, watching her in the flickering torchlight. "You should rest."
"I can't."
"You're not Saelwyn anymore."
She looked up. "Aren't I?"
He didn't answer.
She gritted her teeth. "You knew more than you told me. About that book. About the prophecy. About me."
He hesitated. "I didn't know how much would come back. You weren't supposed to remember everything this soon."
Aelira stood slowly, fists clenched. "But you remembered. All this time."
"I never forgot." His voice cracked like old stone. "That's the difference between you and me."
Her eyes burned, not with magic—just emotion. "Then why didn't you warn me? Why didn't you stop Vyra?"
"Because I couldn't," he said quietly. "Because the last time I stood between you and the Coven, I watched you burn."
---
A long silence.
Only the wind moved, sliding between the broken stones like breath.
Aelira turned away, her voice low. "I don't need your guilt."
He didn't argue. "Then take my loyalty instead."
The torch sputtered.
Then—suddenly—it went out.
They both turned, every nerve in their bodies going stiff.
The air grew thick. Dense. Wrong.
Then came the whisper.
Not from the trees. Not from the wind.
From below.
"I warned you not to look…"
The ground cracked. A circle of stone shifted in the ruin's center, groaning as if it hadn't moved in centuries.
Kaeln was at her side in a second, blade drawn.
But Aelira didn't move. Her mark was glowing again. Bright as the moon.
"They found us," she said.
"No." Kaeln grabbed her arm. "Something else did."
---
The stones rolled open.
From beneath, a single figure emerged—hooded, hunched, wrapped in rotting grey robes.
Their voice rasped, echoing against stone.
"She awakens. The fire-witch. The cursed soul."
Aelira stood her ground, even as Kaeln stepped forward, sword raised.
"Who are you?" she asked.
The figure's hood fell.
She gasped.
It wasn't a person.
The skin was paper-thin, stretched tight over hollow bone. The eyes glowed white.
It was dead—but still speaking.
"A Seer," Kaeln said under his breath. "One of the old ones."
The creature nodded. "The last of the Moon-Faced. I saw your fate… and I burned for it."
"You were with her," Aelira whispered. "In the first life."
The Seer raised a hand, revealing a faded tattoo. A half-moon. Cracked.
"I warned them. I told them not to light the fire."
Aelira stepped forward. "Then why are you here now?"
"To deliver the vision that nearly cost me my soul," it rasped. "The future is broken, girl. It bends around you. You were the spark once… but now, you are the flame."
She clenched her jaw. "Speak clearly."
The Seer lifted both arms. "The Grimoire was never meant for you alone. It binds three. One of bone, one of blood, and one of ash."
Kaeln frowned. "What does that mean?"
The Seer tilted its head, bone cracking. "You are the blood, Executioner. She is the ash. But the third… still walks unaware."
Aelira's mind flashed to Nessa.
Her heartbeat slowed.
"She's more than we thought," she whispered.
"She must choose," the Seer warned. "Or the fire will consume you all again."
---
Without warning, the Seer screamed—a sound of agony and magic—then crumbled into dust.
Kaeln pulled Aelira back, shielding her. But it was too late.
The words had been spoken.
The wardstones cracked.
Aelira's mark pulsed.
In the ashes where the Seer stood, a symbol remained.
Not the sigil of Saelwyn.
A different one.
One she had never seen.
But it was glowing on her skin now too.
"They changed the prophecy," she said breathlessly.
Kaeln stared at her. "Then nothing is safe anymore."