The crown was cold. Heavy. Like a dead thing biting into Ralph temples.
He stood on the balcony, it has been seventeen summers, since he was crowned King of Oak. Below, the clans roared. *"Long live King Ralph!"* Vampires smiled with too-sharp teeth. Werewolves howled. Humans bowed so low their noses scraped stone.
Ralph stomach churned.
*Fake. All fake.*
person's blood still stained the throne and the throne room tiles. A "hunting accident." *Bullshit*. Ralph knew without being told tha the claw marks. Knew the stink of the villages and everything around doing was a facade so that they will not be killed he knew better than to believe himself than the perishing village of oak
**The Blood Moon Ritual:**
The five elders stood in the sacred stone circle, trembling not from cold, but dread. Silas (Human), Vesryn (Snake), Mara (Fairy), Kael (Werewolf), Borin (Vampire). Before them, bound to obsidian pillars, stood their chosen warriors – their strongest, with a strong Heart and their beloved.
* **Theron** (Vampire Prince, Borin's heir) snarled, fangs bared at Ralph.
* **Garron** (Werewolf, Kael's son) howled, shaking his chains.
* **Lyssa** (Fairy, Mara's granddaughter) wept silver tears, wings limp.
* **Sylas** (Beast-Clan Dragon-shifter) breathed smoke, eyes molten gold.
* **Joran** (Human, Silas's grandson) stood silent, defiance in his eyes.
Ralph watched from his bone throne atop the circle, the Blood Moon painting him crimson. *"Begin."*
The elders chanted. Ancient, guttural words ripped from their throats. The earth trembled. The moon pulsedit shine that night at its peak.
One by one, they stepped forward.
* **Silas** plunged the obsidian dagger into Joran's heart. *"For Oak!"* Blood sprayed the runes.
* **Mara** tore Lyssa's wings, draining her magic into the soil. *"For Balance!"* Silver light exploded.
* **Kael** ripped Garron's throat out with his own claws. *"For Vengeance!"* A howl died.
* **Vesryn** sank venomous fangs into Sylas's neck. *"For the Ssserpent's Sssilence!"* Dragon-fire guttered.
* **Borin**, tears of blood streaking his face, drove a stake through Theron's chest. *"For our Sins!"*
As the last warrior died, their blood pooled, swirling into the central rune. Not red, but *white-hot light*. It coalesced, hardened, twisted – forming a **circular bone**, etched with the sigils of all five clans. It glowed, humming with immense, sorrowful power.
*WHOOSH!*
The bone shot into the sky, vanishing into the Blood Moon's heart. A voice, vast and echoing, boomed across Oak:
***"A PROPHECY SHALL RISE. PEACE SHALL BE BOUGHT WITH BLOOD YET UNSPILLED."***
Then – *LIGHTNING and thunder was heard all over the village*.
Not from the sky. From the bone's vanishing point. It struck Ralph's palace. Stone exploded. Ralph screamed – not in pain, but *rage* – as the bolt *sucked* him inward, compressing him, sealing him into the **mirror ball** that clattered onto his empty throne.
the people of oak heard their breath in fear some heat thinking it was another scheme of King Ralph not knowing that their prayers has been answered
and in Silence. Heavy. Broken only by the elders' sobs.
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