Watching his mother arrange the funeral rites for the witches who sacrificed their lives in defense of Last Thaw was surreal.

  Paul remained standing, keeping watch so that nobody beyond Asteria could approach the altar; not that anyone dared to, as it was clear he would attack, regardless of the difference in power.

  Orion, meanwhile, was seated among the front benches, with Pauline’s hand holding him down to prevent any thought of interrupting the ceremony.

  He hadn’t intended to. There was something about the gentle light emanating from the Moon Mother’s statue, the somber atmosphere that surrounded Asteria as she drew runes around the altar, whispering prayers under her breath, that ensured even he wouldn’t disrespect the moment, no matter how curious he was about the magic being woven.

  Silence filled the temple as Asteria set the final rune and took her position opposite Paul, standing directly beneath the statue.

  She clasped her hands, and the prayer that had been a murmur suddenly grew louder, echoing off the walls.

  “O Moon Mother, Silver Matron of the Silent Paths,

  we call to You with hearts made heavy by ash and sorrow.

  Before us lie the vessels once filled with Your daughters’ fire,

  witches of courage, guardians of the night,

  who surrendered breath and blood so that others might yet draw theirs.

  Hear us as we commend their spirits to Your luminous embrace.”

  There was an undercurrent of true sadness in her tone, but the strength of her voice made it feel more like a farewell at a hero's send-off than a simple goodbye to a coven sister.

  “O Mother of the Waning Sky,

  we lift their names into Your glow,

  one by one, like lanterns drifting upon a midnight sea.

  They stood where terror sought to root,

  they rose where hope threatened to falter,

  and in the hour when the world shivered,

  they chose to be the wall that did not break.

  Let Your Shadow cradle them now,

  cool and soft as the first hush of eclipse.

  Let the tides of Your eternal night wash the fear from their bones,

  the struggle from their limbs,

  the weight of battle from their weary souls.

  For they have walked the furthest road,

  and the price they paid was willingly offered,

  their lives given not in despair,

  but in fierce, radiant defiance.”

  Asteria’s voice grew louder the longer she spoke, eventually reaching outside the temple and probably across a good part of the city.

  The faint light that had been barely visible while she worked, dimmed by the heavy sorrow of a dozen witches’ deaths, gradually grew stronger again, first as a warm glow, then slowly taking on a brighter hue.

  Yet it didn’t hurt to look at. Orion knew that he should be feeling pain in his eyes, but he couldn’t take his gaze away from the statue of the Moon Mother, as its pose stopped being one of pure sorrow and became welcoming, with its arms open as if in an embrace.

  Again, no mana moved through the Field. [Hypotheticism] sensed something, as the statue moving on its own was simply not feasible, but the energies involved were both actively hidden from its sight and incredibly complex, leaving Orion only the certainty that it wasn’t regular magic taking place before him.

  “O Moon Mother, She-Who-Keeps-the-Fallen,

  take them into the Night-Womb where all storms quiet,

  where wounds find rest and burdens crumble to dust.

  Let them drift through the argent fields

  where the brave are crowned with serenity,

  and where Your lullaby softens even the deepest scars.

  Know this, blessed spirits:

  the city stands, breathing still,

  its hearths alight, its children unbroken,

  Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

  because you gave all.

  Your sacrifice was not in vain.

  Your final spell was a shield woven of devotion,

  and its echoes still cling to the stones you fought to protect.

  Sleep now, beloved daughters,

  in the soft dark that is not oblivion but home.

  Let the Mother’s silver breath guide you through the veil,

  let Her gather you beneath the folds of Her cloak,

  let peace—true, gentle, unending—be yours at last.”

  Paul’s eyes dried, and all sorrow left him. He smiled briefly, knowing his beloved wife was finally in her goddess’ embrace and at peace, before Asteria’s voice shifted to a more charged tone.

  “Yet before you drift too far from our mortal reach,

  hear this final plea:

  watch over us from the holy penumbra.

  Let your spirits linger at the edge of our steps

  as we take up the duty you have passed on.

  Guide our hands as we rise for the living,

  steel our hearts as we march against the destroyers,

  and walk beside us in the righteous crusade

  to purge death’s shadow from the Sanctum’s sacred lands.

  Go with the Mother’s love,

  and guard us still.”

  By the end of her chant, Orion could feel new energy pulsing beneath his skin. He didn’t precisely know how, but he sensed that the exhaustion from the long march and the stress he’d endured since learning he would have to return to Silverpeak had lifted from his shoulders.

  A new purpose had taken its place. It was nothing more than a suggestion, a gentle invitation for him to join in what was about to happen.

  But looking around the temple, he could tell the same wasn’t true for everyone else.

  Most others seemed just as refreshed, but their effects didn’t stop there. Whether it was because they were taken by Asteria’s promise, the atmosphere, or something more mystical, everyone looked ready to arm themselves and march to wherever the drakes and wyrms had come from to bring the fight to them.

  It was the kind of religious fanaticism that once would've made his skin crawl, and while he still wasn’t exactly comfortable, that didn’t mean he couldn’t understand where they were coming from.

  A draconic faction, whether the Dragonspire Dominion or another, attacked a city protected by the Sanctum. Such a thing could only lead to war.

  Asteria’s gaze was, perhaps, the most intense of all. Orion could tell she felt a deep sense of responsibility for not being powerful enough to prevent it all, even after ranking up.

  More than what the Sanctum would do, it was her vengeance that he feared most. He knew it would never touch him, but just being that close to it felt like walking a tightrope over a volcano.

  Tears of moonlight fell down her cheeks, and the fate of Cyril was sealed.

  Once the witches were properly laid to rest, entombed forever beneath the altar they had sacrificed their lives on, Asteria took a moment to speak with Paul privately.

  Initially, the old man appeared eager, then grew angry, but eventually settled into acceptance, his eyes shining with a feverish light that Orion knew wouldn't go out until he personally saw the death of whoever had ordered the raid on Last Thaw.

  The temple reopened afterward, and people were allowed to pray for guidance under the Mother’s warm gaze.

  Many seemed stunned by the statue's changes, as its new posture was both maternal and fierce, and they took it as a sign of what the future would hold.

  People of all ages and backgrounds streamed in, bowed before Her, then moved on, allowing others to have their turn.

  Orion observed everything with a conflicted look, unsure of how to feel.

  I guess it doesn’t really matter. The die has been cast, and this whole thing is out of our hands. The attack on the bridge alone would have caused a shockwave, but it could have eventually been dealt with with a simple punitive strike. This… This is too much.

  It was truly unfortunate, given how hard he had worked to ensure his father, the nominal peace candidate, was elected to the Speakership, but he doubted anything could stop the Sanctum from going to war now.

  Or that it even should be stopped. The dragons had been callous in their attacks, targeting innocents without an ounce of hesitation. If Margareth and the other elderly witches hadn’t sacrificed themselves, the city of Last Thaw would have suffered heavy losses during their assault.

  And beyond that, the Sanctum was a major faction. It couldn’t just take such a blow lying down; otherwise, others might think it was weakened.

  That would result in more deaths than any conflict caused by this single attack.

  “Where is she going?” He whispered, eyeing his mother’s figure as she slipped into the back of the temple.

  “Doing what you suggested, I imagine,” Pauline said, finally removing the hand that had been pinning him down on the bench the entire time.

  He slowly stood up, both to test his leg and because he wasn’t sure she wouldn’t just pull him back down. But when she made no move to stop him, he ambled off, weaving through the crowd of worshippers.

  The side door his mother had used led to a different part of the temple, which he imagined was the private quarters of the witches responsible for maintaining the faith in Last Thaw.

  He walked down the main corridor, listening for any sound that might tell him where Asteria had gone, until he reached a covered courtyard, where a floating orb hovered at its center.

  After a moment of inspection, Orion decided it was a faithful replica of the local moon, which wasn’t that strange for the temple of a cult dedicated to the worship of the celestial body, but what was odd about it was that the surface rippled once in a while.

  He was prevented from inspecting it further when his mother stepped out of another door, holding a chest full of crystals.

  All of them were bigger and purer than the ones Orion used to amplify his spells, with the possible exception of the CC, but at first glance, he could tell they didn’t necessarily lose to it either.

  Last Thaw wasn’t a large city by modern Earth standards, but in Cyril, it was a reasonably sized one, so it wasn’t surprising that the main temple would possess some treasures. What was surprising was that his mother had taken them from its vaults and seemed determined to use them.

  “Well, are you just going to look around, or will you help me?” she asked, jolting Orion into action.

  It was good that she seemed to have moved past her initial need to shelter him after the loss of his foot, but he wasn’t sure how much he liked this new, energetic Asteria. She began slotting the crystals into grooves in the ground all around the orb, and Orion caught on.

  “Do not use magic on them. They need to be as pure as possible for this to work,” she warned, and he immediately dropped the thread of gravitational magic he’d been crafting.

  Swallowing a sigh, he got to work, crouching down and fitting each crystal into its designated slot. They were all slightly different sizes, and the grooves could only accommodate one, so it took some time to finish the setup. Finally, he placed the last one in.

  “Now step back. Talk only if spoken to directly, and try not to distract me. This kind of divination magic was never my forte,” she muttered that last part a little quieter, but Orion caught it, and his lips twitched upward.

  It was good to know he wasn’t the only one having trouble with that particular branch. Must be a genetic predisposition. I knew it wasn't my fault.

  Stepping back, he moved just outside the circle and watched as his mother clasped her hands together, her face wrinkling in concentration. The crystals soon began to shine as she summoned waves of light mana from the Field, bathing the courtyard with it until every inch was suffused.

  The crystals pulsed once, then twice more, before settling into a soft glow, which coalesced into the orb.

  A moment later, a voice echoed from it.

  enjoy the story and would like to read more, are available on my .