Moonlit Vows Of Vengeance-Chapter 68: Fighting The Beast

The trees at the edge of the isle shivered—and then something lunged out of the shadows.

It was enormous. Beast-like, but made entirely of shadow and bone. Its eyes were hollow pits leaking dark mist, and its mouth gaped open, full of jagged glass.

I barely dodged as it swiped at us.

Lira moved fast, blade slashing with precision. The beast yowled, stumbling back, but not down. I grabbed a branch and swung it, which was about as effective as throwing a spoon at a dragon.

"Magic, Athena!" Lira shouted. "Try anything!"

"I don’t have any—!"

But even as I said it, I felt that pull in my chest again. I screamed—not in fear, but in fury—and the sound warped. My voice echoed with power I didn’t understand, and the beast staggered like it had been struck.

Lira didn’t hesitate. She lunged, driving her blade into its chest.

With a final shriek, the creature dissolved into smoke and ash.

Silence fell, broken only by our ragged breathing.

I dropped to my knees, heart thundering.

"What... what was that?" I whispered.

"A tyront," Lira said softly. "But you were able to use magic."

I looked at my hands. They still tingled.

By the time we reached the edge of the floating isles, I could see the mountains Lira had spoken of. Her kingdom—Skyfire—sat nestled within a crescent of jagged peaks, its spires rising like obsidian teeth against the sky. A waterfall spilled from one tower into a pool that shimmered like liquid crystal.

"Wow," I breathed.

"Home," she said quietly.

The bridge beneath us led to a massive gate of dark silver, guarded by towering statues with glowing eyes. As we approached, they shifted—alive, somehow—and one raised a hand.

"Princess Lira," it boomed. "You return with a stranger."

"She is under my protection," Lira said, voice firm. "Open the gates."

The statues bowed, and the doors began to part with a sound like grinding stars.

I felt the warmth of something ancient brush against my skin as we stepped through.

Not fear this time.

Recognition.

And something in me—something buried deep—answered.

The gates of the city loomed before us, tall, arched, and humming faintly with ancient magic. Gold-veined runes glowed across the surface, and as we approached, they pulsed like a heartbeat, recognizing royalty.

The second gates opened with a resonant hum, stone folding inward like water, revealing a gleaming courtyard of black marble and silver light. The city inside glittered like a living jewel set into the cliffs—floating lanterns drifted lazily in the air, and vines glowing faintly blue wove through the pillars. The architecture was both elegant and imposing, as if time itself bowed to it.

I walked beside her, still wearing travel gear, cloak dusted from the road and tunic half-untucked. I couldn’t have felt more out of place.

But that didn’t matter. My goal wasn’t to blend in. It was to find a way home.

Inside the palace, carved directly into the mountain, we passed corridors lined with tapestries depicting dragon-like beasts and wars I didn’t recognize. Light shone from orbs embedded in the ceiling, casting a warm gold glow. We turned through a hall of crystal columns, crossed a garden with silver-leafed trees, and finally arrived at a chamber guarded by two elite soldiers in armor shaped like fire.

The doors opened to reveal a throne room of quiet power.

The floor was a wide sweep of reflective stone, broken only by intricate sigils etched into the surface. Stained glass windows bathed the space in soft colors. At the far end, two figures stood beneath a domed ceiling, engaged in quiet conversation.

One was tall, cloaked in royal indigo, a golden circlet gleaming in his dark hair—Lira’s father, King Kaelren.

The other—

My heart stopped.

The man beside him turned just slightly as the doors closed behind us.

And I knew that profile.

Lucas.

The same sharp jaw. The same scar along his neck. The same storm-grey eyes.

But there was no spark in them now. No recognition. Only coldness.

He looked past me like I wasn’t even there.

My knees nearly buckled.

"Athena," Lira whispered at my side, barely audible. "Are you okay?"

I nodded stiffly, forcing breath into my lungs. "Fine. Just—nerves."

I couldn’t break. Not now. I didn’t know what game this was, or what was happening in this world. But this wasn’t the time to scream or fight. I needed answers.

King Kaelren stepped forward, arms open in welcome. He was younger-looking than I’d expected, with a regal presence, his power more in the steady calm of his voice than any visible display.

"Lira," he said warmly, his voice echoing across the chamber. "You return with surprise and strange company."

Lira grinned and curtsied with a flourish. "You love surprises, Father."

His gaze shifted to me. "And you are?"

I bowed respectfully, every muscle tight. "Athena...."

Lucas—or whoever he was—stood still, watching but unreadable.

Lira placed a hand on my shoulder. "She’s not just anyone, Father. She’s my friend. She’s been locked out of her magic. She needs help."

The king tilted his head, studying me. "Locked out of her magic?" he murmured. "And yet I sense a strong echo of our magic within you. Curious."

I spoke carefully, hiding what I could. "I will be honest withn you. I am not from this world... this realm.. I fell through a portal. I’ve been stuck here ever since. I need to find a way back."

"To your world."

"Yes."

He exchanged a brief glance with Lucas. The man didn’t flinch, didn’t even blink.

"Portals are dangerous," the king said finally. "And rare. The kind that pierces between realms is no simple spell. They require convergence points—tethers—and a catalyst born of both worlds."

"Can it be done?" I asked, trying to keep the desperation out of my voice.

"Yes," he said slowly, "but the requirements are steep. Blood magic. Star alignments. A gatekeeper willing to risk the opening—and immense power to sustain the rift.