Chapter Eleven: Bloodlines and Betrayals
The ashes had barely settled from the Revenant's destruction when the summons came.
A message carved into the sky itself — black flames scrawled across the clouds in an ancient tongue only the Crescent bloodline could read:
"Return to the Seat. Or watch your wolves burn."
Aria stood frozen beneath the crimson sky, her breath caught in her throat.
Lira read the message aloud, her voice grave. "They're forcing your hand."
"They want me to come to them," Aria whispered.
Kael's jaw tensed. "Or they want to lure you into a trap."
"It's both," Riven said flatly. "They know she's awakening. They fear her power — and what she might remember next."
---
That evening, the war room felt smaller than ever.
Maps littered the table. Council strongholds glowed with red glyphs. Resistance camps flickered in blue — scattered, vulnerable.
"They've been targeting villages that once swore allegiance to your family," Lira said. "Burning them. Publicly. Making an example of loyalty."
"They're provoking me," Aria said. "They want me to become a tyrant."
"They want to prove you already are one," Kael said softly.
Silence.
Riven finally spoke. "Then give them a tyrant. Burn their walls. Drown their Council in the very fear they fed others for centuries."
Lira turned sharply. "No. That's what they want. Aria isn't just a weapon. She's the answer to the question they fear most — what happens when mercy has teeth."
Aria looked between them all — the wolf, the prince, the blood-keeper — and realized something.
She couldn't be only one thing.
Not anymore.
---
That night, she dreamt again.
Not of the Crescent Queen.
Of herself.
In a dark room.
A child again. Kneeling beside her dying mother.
Her mother leaned in, blood leaking from her lips.
"They'll tell you power is poison," she whispered. "But it's not. It's choice. That's what scares them."
Then her mother placed something into her hand — cold, smooth, glowing faintly with moonlight.
A ring.
She awoke gasping.
The ring was clutched in her fist.
Real.
---
By morning, the ring was on her finger — and her mind was set.
"We go to the Seat," she said. "But not to surrender. To take back what was stolen."
Kael stared. "You understand what this means?"
"Yes," she said. "I'm declaring war."
---
They rode fast and hidden.
Through frozen ravines.
Past broken villages where survivors whispered her name as she passed.
To the border of the old capital — a city once called Virelya, now renamed The Seat of Order.
The Crescent City — reduced to ruins, then reborn in chains.
Black towers rose where gardens once bloomed. Guards lined the streets in silver masks. Magic buzzed in the air, thick and wrong.
"It's worse than I imagined," Aria whispered.
"They erased your legacy," Lira said. "Stone by stone. And now… they've turned your palace into their throne."
Aria looked up at the tallest tower, where a crescent-shaped window glowed red.
"They won't hold it much longer."
---
They entered under disguise.
Riven led them through secret tunnels beneath the old sewer system — the same ones he once used to smuggle wounded rebels out during the Queen's fall.
"You know," he said, half-smiling, "last time I crawled through here, it was with your dying body in my arms."
Aria glanced back. "You always had a flair for the dramatic."
He grinned. "And you always had a death wish."
She didn't deny it.
---
They reached the heart of the palace — a hidden chamber behind the old throne wall. There, Lira whispered words in the ancient tongue, and the wall split, revealing a hidden vault.
Inside: relics of the Crescent bloodline.
Weapons. Scrolls. Armor forged in moonfire.
And at the center, floating above a stone pedestal — a blade.
Elegant.
Terrifying.
Alive.
"The Moonsong," Lira breathed.
"The blade of the true Queen," Kael added.
Aria stepped forward.
The blade hummed at her presence. Light spilled from her mark, wrapping around the sword like a lover recognizing its other half.
She reached out.
The moment her fingers closed around the hilt, something cracked inside her mind.
A scream.
A memory.
---
She stood in a temple. Her past self. The true Queen.
Surrounded by fallen soldiers.
Blood soaked the altar.
Kael knelt at her side, wounded. Riven stood at a distance, tears streaming down his face.
And she—
She raised the Moonsong and said:
"Forgive me. I must break the bond."
Then she cut the soul-thread that bound her to Riven.
He collapsed.
And the magic shattered the temple roof.
---
Aria returned to the present, gasping, blade in hand.
"I broke the soul bond," she said, looking at Riven. "I severed you."
Riven nodded once, eyes hard. "And I've been half-dead ever since."
Kael stepped between them. "Now is not the time for sentiment."
But it was.
Because the door burst open.
And standing there was a girl — barely older than Aria — wearing royal armor.
She had Aria's eyes.
Her voice was cold.
"I'm the Council's blade now. Your bloodline ends tonight."
She raised a dagger crackling with blue fire.
And threw it straight at Kael.