Prophecy of the Fallen Moon
The siblings stood at the edge of the portal, the weight of their mission heavy on their shoulders. The gods of Maevhara's domain watched them with cold, calculating eyes, each one aware of the raw power the siblings carried—but also of the dangerous recklessness that accompanied it. The gods' disdain was palpable, but the siblings paid it no mind. This was their world now. Their power was undeniable, and they would show it.
Aelina's gaze lingered on the shadowed corners of the divine realm, where the light never fully touched. There, hidden in the darkness, secrets and whispers of forgotten power stirred. The air was thick with a presence that made the gods uneasy, though they dared not speak of it.
Kael scoffed, his usual arrogance flickering in the presence of the unknown. "Nothing to worry about, right?" He didn't wait for a response, stepping forward with a confidence that bordered on cocky, though his eyes flickered. For the briefest of moments, they caught a glimpse of something—an elusive shadow, its form too large to belong to any mortal being. Kael's lips curled into a dark smile, his amusement dancing in his gaze.
"I saw it too," he muttered, casting a glance over his shoulder, half-joking, but the underlying tension was palpable. The shadow seemed to watch them, and Kael's words were both a challenge and a dare. "Looks like we've already got an audience."
Aelina didn't respond, but her eyes narrowed as the shape disappeared into the ethereal distance, leaving only the cold weight of its presence behind.
Nyra remained silent, her expression unreadable. Her eyes, always calculating, seemed to acknowledge the moment but chose not to engage. She was always the quiet one, the observer. It was better that way.
The moment passed, but a lingering tension remained as the siblings crossed into the unknown, heading toward their next challenge.
As the siblings descended from the portal, the air grew thick with hostility. They were met with cold disdain, their very presence stirring a palpable unease among the gods, demigods, and creatures gathered in the divine realm. The murmurs were loud enough to carry, filled with cruel judgment and contempt.
The gods' eyes narrowed at the siblings, their gazes filled with disdain, as if they were not worthy of standing in the same space. The creatures, beings of unimaginable power, gave silent sneers, their minds already formulating ways to put the siblings in their place. But the siblings stood undeterred, the weight of their own power evident in the way they carried themselves.
From the shadows, a god of war emerged. His towering form loomed over them, his graying hair framing a face carved from stone. His aura was one of cold discipline, his eyes studying the siblings like a hawk assessing its prey. With a voice that was gravelly and ancient, he spoke, his words meant to cut through their arrogance.
The tension in the divine hall was thick as Maevhara raised her hands, her eyes gleaming with ancient power. Silence fell over the room like a heavy shroud. She spoke, her voice echoing like the ripples of darkness.
"There is a prophecy long whispered among the gods," she began, her words slicing through the stillness. "It foretells the arrival of those who will shape the future of this realm. This competition is not just a test of strength—it is a reckoning, a crossing of fate."
Her gaze swept over the siblings, piercing and cold. "The prophecy speaks of three who will enter the arena of the moon—each with the power to tear the heavens asunder. They will not yield, and in their wake, destruction will follow."
The gods shifted uneasily, their gazes flickering between one another. Maevhara's words had struck something deep within them—something they feared but dared not speak aloud.
"The prophecy says this: When the blood of the moon spills upon the earth, three will rise, bound by untold power. Their wills shall break the chains of the gods, and in their wake, the very heavens shall tremble. Only one shall stand at the end, and their victory will spark the dawn of a new era—whether for good or ill."
A long pause followed, and the gods' faces grew grim. This was no mere myth. The siblings exchanged glances, understanding the weight of Maevhara's words. They had always known they were destined for something greater—something terrifying. But even they hadn't anticipated this.
Kael smirked, his gaze challenging as he met Maevhara's eyes. "So, we're the ones meant to tear the heavens apart?" His voice was dripping with mockery, though underneath it, an undeniable thrill simmered.
Aelina remained silent, her mind calculating the possibilities, while Nyra watched with cold indifference. This prophecy was nothing new to her. She had always known their power would lead to something far more deadly than even gods could comprehend.
A god of war, towering and grim, stepped forward, his gaze icy. "You think you belong here?" His voice was low and harsh, designed to cut through their arrogance.
Before any of the siblings could respond, Maevhara's presence took center stage once more, a wave of her hand calming the room. "This is your trial," she declared. "A test of your strength. Only through the blood and chaos of the Moon Fighting Competition will you prove your worth."As she spoke, the gods and creatures in the hall bowed, their voices murmuring in reverence. But the siblings remained unmoved, their gazes cold and defiant. Aelina's eyes were unreadable, Nyra stood still and calculating, and Kael allowed a mocking smile to play at his lips, defying the power that surrounded them.
Maevhara's words were firm as she set the competition in motion, and with a flick of her hand, the hall transformed into the arena—a vast expanse of dark stone illuminated by eerie runes, the air thick with the scent of ancient magic.
As she introduced the competition to the gathered gods, the siblings stood undeterred. They were here to prove something far greater than what anyone, gods included, could fathom. They were here to take the power that was theirs by right.
Kael, ever the provocateur, couldn't resist the urge to mock. "Let's see if this prophecy holds any weight once we're the ones covered in blood," he said, his voice low but filled with promise.
The Aschen Creed, the most bloodthirsty of the gods, recoiled at his challenge. One of them, a hulking figure clad in black armor, stepped forward, his fury evident. "You think you can mock us? You'll bleed like the rest," he growled.
Kael's smile deepened. "Bloodshed is the only language I speak," he taunted, eyes gleaming with a dark excitement. "Let's see who delivers it first."
The tension in the room crackled. Aelina and Nyra exchanged a brief glance, knowing full well the challenge would be met with brutality, but they stood by, unfazed.
The test began with Kael, who faced the god of war. His movements were fierce, unrefined, yet devastating—each swing of his blade a violent testament to the storm inside him. The gods watched with a mix of disapproval and fascination as Kael's raw, untamed power filled the arena.
The god of war, silent and calculating, observed, recognizing the darkness within Kael. He said nothing, but his eyes spoke volumes—a quiet acknowledgment of the unbridled fury before him.
Next, it was Aelina's turn. She stood in the center of the arena, her magic subtle and controlled, swirling in dark patterns around her. Her precision intrigued the observing gods, though one in particular—a quiet, older god—watched her with a growing sense of curiosity. But he remained silent as she finished her demonstration.
Finally, Nyra. Calm and composed as always, her eyes sharp and assessing. She didn't need to show her power to the gods—she knew they were already aware of it. She moved with an air of quiet confidence, her magic a cold, calculated force, ready to strike if necessary.
When the tests were complete, Maevhara's voice rang out through the arena. "You are ready for the mortal realm. But be warned—what awaits you there is more dangerous than you realize. The storm before annihilation is coming. Be prepared."
Her cryptic words hung in the air as the siblings moved forward, their faces unreadable. The storm before annihilation. What did it mean? Was it truly theirs to control?
As Maevhara prepared to leave, Aelina caught sight of something—someone. A shadowy figure at the edge of the arena, watching them. For a moment, she felt a chill run down her spine, as if something beyond the gods was observing them, waiting.
Kael noticed her discomfort but dismissed it. "Paranoia," he muttered, brushing it off.
Nyra gave her a fleeting glance, her eyes saying everything without a word. She saw it too, but like always, said nothing.
As the prophecy sank in, the siblings felt the weight of the moment. The storm before annihilation. What did it mean? And was it truly theirs to command?
They stepped forward, toward the unknown, their path uncertain. But as they did, the figure in the shadows watched them, its presence almost tangible in the air.
The storm was coming. And they were not the only ones waiting.
END OF CHAPTER 10