Chapter 61
Luna P.O.V
The chill from the crystal floor lingered in my spine even after I left the meditation chamber.
Adrian was waiting outside the door, pacing.
“You were in there for hours,” he said, falling into step beside me as I headed down the corridor. “Are you okay?”
“No,” I said honestly. “But I know what I have to do.”
He stopped walking. “You found something out?”
I hesitated, then gave a small nod. “More like someone. Sita.”
Adrian didn’t ask how that was possible. Maybe he already knew better than to question the impossible.
“She’s not what I thought,” I continued. “The magic I’ve been calling dark—it’s not darkness. It’s Ancient Magic. Gifted by the gods.”
“And Ravana?” he asked carefully.
My throat tightened. “He placed parts of himself in enchanted bracelets. He can’t be fully destroyed unless all of them are found and destroyed with the same weapons that ended him before.”
“Let me guess. Those weapons are lost in time?”
I gave him a sharp glance. “Buried in the Fairy Kingdom. Where we are now. I just have to convince my grandmother to give them to me.”
We both knew that wasn’t going to be easy.
By midday, the inner garden was full of orphans training under the watch of fairy instructors. Some moved small bursts of energy between their palms. Others were learning to manipulate vines and flowers. They were naturals—but scared.
Adrian stood behind Ayden, guiding his stance as he practiced defensive shielding. The boy’s concentration was fierce, more mature than most his age. I watched him for a long moment before speaking.
“We’ll need everyone ready. Even the kids,” I said softly.
“I know.” Adrian didn’t look up. “They deserve a chance to fight for their own future.”
My thoughts drifted to Diondre, who hadn’t sent word since we parted. I tried not to worry, but I could feel his emotions tangled with Skyrim’s energy, flickering in and out like static. Something was wrong—but not urgent. Not yet.
Later that night, Queen Aeloria summoned me alone to the high chamber, where stars wove threads through the ceiling like constellations sewn into silk.
“You’ve remembered more,” she said. It wasn’t a question.
“I’ve remembered enough.”
She turned, her gaze distant. “There’s a reason your powers woke early. A reason Ravana is hunting you.”
I stepped forward. “Then tell me.”
She raised a hand. A vision bloomed between us: a battlefield, ancient and raging. Sita, cloaked in shadow and gold, stood at the center—screaming. Her spears glowed white-hot. And at her side… was a man that looked just like Diondre. But it wasn’t him.
“That’s not—”
“It’s not your mate. It’s the vessel Sita once loved… before he was corrupted.”
“Ravana?” I whispered.
“No,” Aeloria said. “The one who let him in.”
A wave of nausea passed through me.
“History is repeating itself,” she said. “The orphans. The Nine. The return of Ravana. And you, Luna, are Sita reborn. You don’t just hold her magic—you are her soul.”
Down in the garden, Kinsey sat alone beneath a silver tree. I found her tracing symbols in the dirt with a blade of grass.
“You heard?” I asked.
She nodded. “I always knew you were different. I just didn’t know you were divine.”
“I’m not,” I said quickly. “I’m scared. I’m angry. I’m barely holding it together.”
She smiled softly. “Then you’re more of a goddess than any of them ever were.”
I sat beside her. For a long time, we said nothing.
Then she whispered, “I found a way to separate the bond between Diondre and Ravana.”
My heart stopped. “How?”
She looked up at the stars. “The Severance Ritual. But there’s a cost. One that no one will want to pay.”
Meanwhile…
Diondre P.O.V
I woke from another dream with my father’s voice echoing in my mind—but it wasn’t him speaking.
It was Ravana.
“She’s waking up. And when she does… she’ll have to choose between the world and you.”
I gasped, sitting up in a cold sweat. Skyrim was restless, pacing in my head.
“She’s not ready,” he said. “And neither are we.”
But deep down, I knew the truth.
The war wasn’t coming anymore.
It had already started.