Moonlit Vows Of Vengeance

Chapter 102: The Wasteland Between Worlds

The air grew heavier the deeper I went, thick with age and the scent of ash and stone. My fingers trailed along the carved walls—script in a language even the oldest mages had forgotten. But I hadn’t.

I remembered every line.

This was where the old gods walked when they wanted to speak to the stars. Where time twisted, and voices from before the world began still whispered in the dark.

And tonight, it would open for me.

I stopped before the last threshold. The hallway ended at a massive stone archway, buried in layers of dust and centuries of silence. It was plain at first glance—just a ruined arch, broken and ancient.

But I knew better.

This was the Flame Gate.

A relic of the gods. A portal between divine realms. It only answered to true blood.

I drew my dagger—one forged in the dream-forge of my ancestors. I pressed the blade to my palm and sliced. Pain flashed white and sharp. Blood welled up, glistening silver instead of red.

My essence.

The truth of what I was.

The moment my blood struck the stone, everything changed.

The archway groaned, stone grinding against stone like it hadn’t moved in millennia. Symbols ignited across its surface—spirals, moons, stars, and languages lost to time. The ground rumbled beneath my feet. Air sucked in like the entire world had taken a breath.

Then—

Light.

Silver light burst from the arch and wrapped around my arms like vines, coiling and pulsing. My skin shimmered with divine resonance, the old magic responding to me, recognizing me.

The gate opened.

Beyond it lay nothing and everything—blinding brightness and absolute shadow swirling in one. A plane. A realm outside the laws of time and nature.

The Divine Wasteland.

I stepped through.

It felt like falling, and flying, and drowning, all at once. My senses twisted, unmoored. I tried to speak and found my voice swallowed by the void.

And then the visions began.

The first strike was Caelum’s face. Golden eyes. A soft smile turned to cruelty. His hand raised, holding the immortal blade that ended me. That scattered my spirit across realms and sealed my fate.

His voice echoed:

"Forgive me, my love. You are too powerful to leave alive."

Then came the betrayal of the others—gods I had once loved, once led. Their voices whispered over one another:

"She’s a danger."

"She’s too close to the mortals."

"Let her fall."

Their judgment still burned. The memory of it clawed at me.

I stumbled forward through the visions, each step heavier than the last. My spirit wanted to split again—to flee back to safety, to walls and stone and flesh. But I didn’t stop.

I couldn’t.

This place responded to will, to purpose. And mine was absolute.

I reached a plain of cracked glass and fire. Mountains floated in the sky, bleeding rivers of flame that never touched the ground. The air tasted of stars and sorrow. Time bent around me—seconds stretched and snapped, hours flickered by in heartbeats.

And standing in the center of it all was a pool of mirrorlight—shimmering like the moon over still water. The Pool of Reclamation.

Only one of true divinity could awaken it.

I stepped forward, my breath uneven, my heart pounding in rhythms older than life.

I sank to my knees at the water’s edge. My reflection stared back—not the Athena the wolves knew, not the war-weary girl the king tried to break, but the goddess I had once been.

Powerful. Untouchable. Eternal.

"You were born in starlight," the wind whispered.

"You were broken in silence," the ground answered.

I leaned forward, touched the surface.

The water surged up—grasped me—pulled me in. noveldrama

My mind fractured again—but this time, not into pieces. It folded inward, peeling away the lies and bindings, the memories that had been buried beneath pain and magic.

I saw my birth. A comet of silver fire, crashing into the sky of the world.

I saw Caelum kneeling beside me when we were still innocent, still dreaming.

I saw his knife. The betrayal. The moment my own divine siblings chose fear over faith.

And I saw my essence torn asunder, sealed in a body that had no memory of what it once carried.

Athena was just a name. The Moon Goddess was the truth.

The water flared with silver heat, and I screamed.

Not in pain—but in release.

The surge of divine power exploded outward. My eyes burned. My bones felt like they’d cracked open just to let the cosmos pour in.

And then, silence.

I rose from the pool, soaked in silver light. Hair trailing like stardust behind me. My skin was no longer the same. My blood no longer contained.

I had awakened half of what I once was.

But I knew what lay ahead. This wasteland was only the first gate. Caelum’s trail lingered in the magic, like smoke after a fire.

He was out there.

Waiting.

And I was coming.

I turned toward the horizon, where the sky cracked like a shattered mirror and the second Flame Gate flickered, miles away.

One step closer to vengeance.

One step closer to reclaiming everything.

The ground beneath me shimmered like liquid glass, bending light and time with every step I took. The sky above pulsed with veins of molten silver, shifting shapes and stars as if it, too, were alive—watching, breathing. I stood still, letting the silence crawl into my bones. No heartbeat but my own echoed here. No sound save the soft hum of ancient magic. I could feel it pressing at the edges of my mind, trying to fracture me into pieces, like it had done once before.

Ahead, a trail of floating stone steps curved like a spine toward a distant flame suspended in midair—a pulsing beacon of power, the Shrine of Origin.

I moved forward.

The wind was thick with whispers. I couldn’t make out the words, but they stirred something deep inside me. Shadows flickered in my periphery. I didn’t look. Not yet. They would come. They always did.

I reached the first ridge and stepped onto solid ground—though here, "solid" was just an illusion. The sky turned red above me, the ground splitting open to spill golden mist.

Then I heard it.

"Athena."

The voice.

I turned, and my breath caught.

Caelum.

Not the real one—but a perfect illusion of him. Tall, draped in ivory robes stained with old blood. His silver eyes were just as I remembered them—merciless.

"I see you found your way back," he said with a sneer. "Even broken, you crawl toward power. Some things never change."

"I’m not broken," I said coldly. "You shattered me. But you didn’t destroy me."

He smiled. "Don’t flatter yourself. You were always just a pretty shield the realms could hide behind. You mistook kindness for strength. That’s why you bled so easily."

I moved to walk past him.

He appeared before me again.

The air shimmered and from behind him stepped others. Faces I knew. Gods who had once sat beside me in council. They stared at me with hollow eyes, judgment painted across their immortal skin.

"You think reclaiming your power will make you whole again?" one asked.

"Power didn’t save you last time," another spat. "And it won’t stop what’s coming."

My fingers curled into fists, and the silver glow flickered down my arms.

"I don’t need saving," I said, stepping through them. "I need my fire."

The Shrine loomed closer.

A bridge of nothing led to the floating platform where the Flame of Divinity hovered, its core a spinning storm of moonlight and starlight. It hummed with a voice that wasn’t quite sound. It called me.

I stepped forward—and the ground exploded.

From the mist, a creature rose.

Its body was forged of obsidian and stardust, molten cracks splitting its limbs. Its mouth was a scream carved in stone, its eyes black holes that ate light.

The guardian.

It roared.

I moved.

It lunged at me, its claws swiping through the air like falling mountains. I rolled beneath the blow, my back scraping against jagged stone. Energy burned in my chest. The remnant of my godhood. Still fragmented. Still dangerous.

"Come on," I whispered.

I launched upward, my blade of silver light forming mid-air. I slashed across its chest. Sparks flew. The beast barely staggered.

It retaliated, its arm crashing into me with the force of a thousand storms. I hit the ground, hard. Bones cracked. Pain lanced through me.

I pushed up.

Blood—my divine blood—spilled into the soil, and the land drank it greedily.

The beast opened its mouth and let out a sound that wasn’t a sound at all—just pure pressure. My vision blurred.

Then, I remembered.

Cassius’s face.

Lira’s tears.

Kieran’s oath to always protect me.

Lucas, asking if he would lose me.

And I remembered the moment Caelum stabbed me. The agony. The fear. The betrayal that shattered my soul.

I screamed.

The silver flame inside me roared to life, spiraling out of my chest in a burst of light. My body lifted off the ground as moonlight spun around me, weaving new sigils into my skin. I wasn’t just the Moon Goddess anymore.

I was the survivor of gods.

I descended, faster than thought, slamming my blade through the guardian’s chest.

It staggered.

Roared.

And then shattered into a thousand stars.

Silence.

Only the sound of my breathing.

I turned toward the Flame of Divinity.

It pulsed, waiting.

I reached out, my fingers brushing the fire.