The Bone Wastes whispered of death long before you crossed the border.
The ground changed first—lush green fading to brittle white earth, cracked like sun-scorched skin. The trees thinned, replaced by towering bone-trees—skeletal structures made of ancient beasts long extinct, their ivory trunks humming with low, eerie vibrations.
Selene rode at the front of the caravan, the twins swaddled safely in the runed cradle attached to her back. Kael rode beside her on his midnight-colored wolf-steed, his eyes sharp and scanning every movement in the distance.
Behind them trailed six Lunari warriors, two elder seers, and Rowan, who never stopped muttering protective spells under his breath.
"The air feels wrong," Rowan muttered, his fingers glowing faintly as they passed a broken totem carved with blood symbols.
"It's not wrong," Selene said softly. "It's old."
Kael glanced at her. "You've never been here."
"No." She looked ahead. "But something in my blood remembers."
---
They reached the Crimson Spire before sundown.
It rose from the earth like a spear of fossilized blood, jagged and glowing faintly with inner fire. Around its base, red mist clung to the ground like silk, and runes shimmered up the black stone in patterns no one could read aloud without consequence.
A circle of crimson-robed figures waited at the entrance, heads bowed, their faces painted with ochre and bone ash. At the center stood a woman so still she seemed carved from the stone itself.
She was ancient. Not in the way of years—but in the way of existence. Her skin glistened like dried rose petals, and her hair was a cascade of garnet cords braided with rings of bone and crystal. Her eyes were black—pure, consuming void.
The Crimson Matriarch.
"Moonborn," she intoned, her voice a song wrapped in rust and flame. "The blood sings again."
Selene bowed slightly. "You sent for me."
"I felt the children breach the veil," the Matriarch said. "They tore the fabric of balance wide open with their birth. You have awakened something… ancient."
Kael stepped closer, instinctively protective. "They're infants."
"They are catalysts," she corrected.
---
Inside the spire, it was warm and pulsing—like being inside a living heart.
They were led into the Chamber of Bone Memory, where skeletal arches formed a dome over a pool of dark red liquid. The Matriarch gestured for Selene to sit, and she did, holding the twins close as she lowered herself onto the silk-cushioned stone bench.
"These children," the Matriarch said, "are the split soul of Lunaria herself."
Selene's eyes widened.
"What do you mean?" Kael asked.
The Matriarch walked slowly around the pool, her fingers dragging in the liquid, forming glowing spirals.
"Lunaria was not just the First Flame. She was the bearer of balance between sun and moon—between war and peace. When her daughters died in the fire wars, she split her soul to save the realm. Half became bound to the moon. Half… drifted into the ether, waiting to be reborn."
Her black eyes locked onto Elira and Theron.
"They have returned. And the realm must choose again."
---
Selene's heart pounded. "What choice?"
The Matriarch knelt before her and whispered, "Which one will ascend… and which one will be devoured."
Kael growled low in his throat. "That won't happen."
The Matriarch stood again, unbothered. "It always does. Balance demands sacrifice. Only one heir may carry the true legacy. The other must fall… or be turned."
Selene stood, her aura flaring. "I will not choose between my children."
"You won't have to," the Matriarch said. "They will choose themselves."
---
That night, the sky over the Bone Wastes turned red.
Kael sat behind Selene as she held Elira and Theron close on her lap, both sleeping soundly despite the storm brewing around them. The fire from the spire lit their tent in an amber glow.
"Do you believe her?" Selene asked.
Kael hesitated. "I don't want to."
"I don't think she lied."
He kissed her temple. "Then we'll rewrite the truth. Like we always have."
She smiled faintly. "We've already changed fate once."
"And we'll do it again."
---
Later that night, after the twins were tucked in a circle of protective spells and sacred symbols, Selene stepped out into the pale light of the Wastes. The red haze rolled like mist across the land, and in the distance, wolves howled—not the packs she knew, but older ones. Ancients. Spirits. Shadows.
The Matriarch stood on a ridge above the spire, her robes fluttering like wings.
"I know why you're here," Selene said.
The Matriarch didn't look back. "Then you know what must come."
"I will not sacrifice my son for a prophecy I didn't write."
"No, Moonborn. But he may choose it himself."
Selene's throat tightened.
"What do I do?"
The Matriarch finally turned. "Raise them in truth. Give them strength. And when the fire comes—when the world breaks again—you must stand between them. Even if it kills you."
---
That night, Selene dreamed.
She saw Elira standing in a field of starlight, wings of moonlight unfurled behind her, singing a song that made the world bloom.
And Theron—older, sharper—standing over a battlefield drenched in flame, eyes burning, a crown of ash on his head.
He looked at her.
And smiled.
Not cruelly.
But knowingly.
"I am what was necessary," he whispered.
---
Selene woke in tears.
Kael stirred. "Another vision?"
"Yes."
He pulled her close. "We'll protect them. Both of them."
"I'm afraid one day we'll have to protect them from each other."
Kael didn't answer.
But he held her tighter.
---