Blood in the Moonlight

The temple stones trembled underfoot.

The air was heavy—saturated with ancient power and the copper tang of magic long buried. Moonlight poured through the shattered dome above, spilling silver across the altar, now alive with light. It pulsed, slow and steady, like something breathing just beneath the stone.

So did Elira's veins.

She stood frozen, eyes fixed on the sigil glowing faintly beneath the altar—the same mark that had haunted her dreams since she was a child. The mark of the Undying King.

Kael stepped up behind her, sword drawn, eyes sharp as he scanned the shifting shadows."This place… it's waking up," he murmured.

"I know," Elira said quietly.

Thorne pressed a hand to the wall, his brow furrowed. It throbbed like a heartbeat."This wasn't just a temple. It was a prison."

Kael turned. "Then why does the magic feel… familiar? Like it knows us."

"It doesn't," Elira said. Her voice was low. Raw. "It knows me."

Silence.

Her words echoed off the stone, swallowed by the charged air.

Kael studied her. "What are you saying?"

"I think I was meant to find this place." Her fingers twitched at her sides. "The First Mages built it to contain him, yes—but it's tied to my bloodline. I can feel it calling. Not to warn me… but to claim me."

Kael's jaw tightened. "You're not his."

"I know that," she snapped—then caught herself, breath softening. "But this place doesn't care what I want."

The altar pulsed.

Runes lit up, searing across the stone as the ground cracked beneath them. From the shadows, laughter spilled out.

Not Eryx.

Something deeper.

Older.

Colder.

Kael stepped in front of her, instinctively shielding her. "Get behind me."

But Elira didn't move.

Smoke coiled from the altar, curling into shape—slow and deliberate. A chained figure took form in the air, half-seen and cloaked in shadows. His face was hidden. But his eyes—his eyes burned with endless hunger.

The Undying King.

"Do you know why you dream of me?" the figure whispered. "Because I dreamed you first."

Kael's grip tightened on his sword.

"Step away from her."

The specter chuckled. "And you, Prince Kael… you carry the blood of Thandrel. You are closer to me than you realize."

Kael froze."What did you say?"

"You think your cousin is my vessel," the voice said, curling like smoke around them. "But you… you are heir to the throne I once ruled—before history erased my name."

Elira's heart pounded. "You're lying."

"I never lie," the King whispered. "Not to you, little phoenix."

Thorne stepped forward, voice sharp. "We need to leave. Now."

But the doorway behind them was gone. Nothing but smooth stone remained.

"Elira," Kael said, glancing back. "We're trapped."

She didn't answer.

Her voice, when it came, was different—lower, layered with echoes not her own."I can feel it now. The magic. The blood. This place was waiting for me."

"You're not unlocking anything," Kael snapped.

She turned—and for just a moment, Kael saw gold shimmer in her eyes, sharp as molten metal.

"I need the truth," she said.

Then the altar shifted.

Stone groaned as a staircase unfurled from the floor, spiraling downward into pitch-dark nothing.

They stared.

Thorne groaned. "Of course there's a bloody staircase to hell."

Elira moved forward.

Kael grabbed her arm. "Wait. We don't know what's down there."

She looked at him. Calm. Steady.

"We do," she said. "Answers."

He looked to Thorne. The man gave a silent nod.

"I'm coming with you," Kael said.

Elira didn't stop him.

Together, they descended.

The deeper they went, the colder it grew. Their torches sputtered as if the very air fought to snuff them out. But Elira's skin—etched with runes since the mirror—glowed brighter with every step.

They reached the bottom.

The chamber was vast. Murals covered the walls—depicting war, betrayal, and thrones built on bones. At the center stood a towering mirror framed in obsidian, runes flickering across its surface.

The Mirror of Memory.

Elira approached slowly, her breath catching in her chest."This… this is what bound him. His past, his truth. Ours."

Kael moved to her side. "Then we destroy it."

But she shook her head. "Not yet."

She reached out and touched the glass.

The mirror shimmered.

And instead of her reflection—an image bloomed.

A battlefield. A woman with fire in her hair, riding a beast of shadow. Armies burned behind her. She turned—and it was Elira's face. But older. Harsher. A crown of blood on her brow.

Kael took a step back. "That's not you."

"I don't know anymore."

Then the image shifted.

Kael—kneeling before a throne of bone. Eryx at his side, cloaked in shadow and gold. Placing a crown on Kael's head.

"Lies," Kael hissed.

The mirror whispered: Memory never lies.

Elira looked at him. "Do you think it's true?"

"No," he said. But his voice cracked.

Another shift.

Elira and Kael—standing together as the world crumbled around them. Her hand in his. Magic bursting from their chests like twin stars.

Unity.

Then—silence.

And the mirror shattered.

A shockwave tore through the room.

The walls screamed. Voices—thousands of them—echoed from the stone.

And where the mirror had stood, something rose.

Not shadow.

Not illusion.

A man.

Flesh. Bone. Real.

Eyes as black as a dead star.

"Finally," said the Undying King. "You opened the door."

Kael threw himself in front of Elira, sword drawn. "You're supposed to be sealed."

The King tilted his head. "You sealed my name. Not my will."

Thorne cursed under his breath.

Elira stepped forward. "What do you want?"

The King smiled. "To remember. Then to rule again."

Kael lunged.

Steel met air—sliding through the King like fog.

"You can't fight memory," the King said.

He raised his hand.

Kael flew backward—slamming into stone.

"KAEL!" Elira cried, rushing toward him.

But before she could reach him, the King was at her side—his breath cold against her skin.

"Your blood was the key," he whispered. "And now, I am free."

Elira's hand lit with flame—but he caught her wrist.

"Too late."

Darkness exploded.

When she opened her eyes, she was outside the temple.

Alone.

The air was still. The world too quiet.

Kael was gone.

The runes on her arms burned like fire beneath her skin.

And far above—high over the mountains—a second moon rose.Black. Twisted.

A mark.

The Undying King had returned.