The world felt different under the blood moon—lurid crimson haze suffused the sky, bleeding into the horizon and turning the snow-dusted ground into rolling rubies. Every breath carried a high note of danger, of fragile truths lying just out of reach. Mary, her violet Codex secure in a pack, followed Loosie and Lela along a desolate crossroads marked by five ancient stone pillars carved with testaments to unity. Each pillar bore the crest of a race: vampire, human, werekin, arcanist, and dwarf—symbols of the Afterlight Covenant carved before it was born.
They arrived at the Crossroads of Five Ways under moonrise. No lanterns glowed. Only silhouettes moved in the distance. Yet the air was thick with anticipation—festering energy waiting to erupt.
"Stay sharp," Lela whispered, resting her spear on her shoulder.
Loosie concurred, every muscle coiled in readiness.
Mary closed her eyes for a moment, breathing in the blood-gilded air. Then she stepped forward, calling, "I'm here."
The silence deepened for a heartbeat before responses echoed back—footsteps from every direction. The stranger emerged from the human stone, wearing midnight-blue garb with a hood drawn low. But what drew their steps next were four other figures walking in from each pillar, converging beneath the blood moon.
First came Cadeyn, the vampire elder who introduced the Covenant. His eyes, normally pools of predatory calm, burned with urgency tonight.
Next arrived Seralei, the arcanist sorceress whose wards had contained the Rift on multiple fronts. Her robes were thick with warding glyphs that glimmered cinereal in the moonlight.
From the werekin pillar, emerged Garrat—massive as a bull, arms sheathed in fur, eyes glinting with feral intellect. He carried no weapons, only a lowed promise of protection.
From the dwarven crest stepped Old Thran, a master rune-smith whose war-hammer bore the weight of mountain-age magic.
Finally, from the alliance of humans strode Captain Miral, once of the royal guard, brimming with law-bound determination.
They formed a ring around Mary, Loosie, and Lela, a living covenant.
Cadeyn took the first words. "Mary Innocent. Your name bears flame. We have heard your pen and seen its weight. But we have concerns."
Mary inclined her head. "Speak them truthfully. That is the only way forward."
Seralei spoke next. "Power to write reality… in the hands of one soul… frightens us."
Garrat added, voice low and deep. "It frightens the wilds."
Old Thran grumbled in dwarven. "And the stone remembers rulers who fatally wrote over mountains."
Captain Miral's voice rang sharp. "We trust you with this power—but we need oversight. Safeguards."
Mary exhaled. She'd anticipated this night. She reached to her cloak and drew out the violet Codex. The pillars' runes glowed softly. The universe hummed.
She opened the Codex to the final pages—the sealed runes of the Final Chapter. "This codex is complete now. There is no blank page left—no space where unchecked power could be written. I carry knowledge, not empty authority."
Heads nodded, but concern etched across their faces.
Cadeyn stepped closer. "But what about the future? What if… what if you change?"
Mary's heart fluttered. "Then I am recollected. The Covenant names me… nothing more."
Loosie stepped forward. "It's why all of us stand here. I trust her."
Lela placed a hand on Mary's shoulder. "So do I."
But Seralei shook her head. "It may not be enough."
Before Mary could reply, loomed a third figure between pillars—tall, slender, leather-wrapped, hooded. Not one of their own, not in Covenant, but unmistakably important. The Friend.
They spoke in a voice at once everywhere and nowhere: "All words have echoes. Even the final one."
Mary stiffened.
"The Author sealed her name," the Friend continued, hands raised. "She gave you form. But this entity… she lives. She answered your closing line—it said, Soon. Now, that power seeks a new channel."
Mary felt the Codex press warm against her body.
"So," said the Friend, turning back to Cadeyn's line, "the Covenant must choose: will you bind this final ghost—or let her follow the Author?"
Seralei hissed. "Bind? You speak as a man who traffics in ghosts."
The Friend turned, hood falling back to reveal a face older than memory, eyes silvered with time. "I am he who carried the first echo. It lived within me for centuries. I watched as the Author became godlike… only to be shattered."
Loosie gasped. "You were her vessel?"
The Friend inclined his head. "Now the last echo seeks a new home. I come to offer myself—or you may bind it to the world's anchor stone here."
Old Thran growled, "You again want to bind something?"
"Better than risk it walking freely," Garrat rumbled.
Mary stood tall. "So… we've brought witnesses. Now we decide."
Each representative looked to her, and she continued:
"Vampire: Cadeyn, will you swear to penbind this ghost if I instruct you?"
Cadeyn nodded solemnly. "I swear."
"Arcanist: Seralei—will you speak the warding words when she's bound?"
Seralei's eyes flashed, uncertain, then steady. "I will.
"Werekin: Garrat—will you stand guard, spirit-brand raised?"
He roared, stamping hoof-to-ground in oath.
"Dwarf: Thran—will you forge the rune-anchor, binding her to the stone?"
The dwarf nodded sharply.
"Captain Miral?"
She squared her shoulders. "I will uphold the covenant, and if the binding breaks, I will end her."
They all swore.
Mary closed the Codex. "The Friend—you offered yourself?"
He replied, voice worn but firm. "Yes."
Mary nodded. "Then we will begin."
They lit five beacon-fires around the Crossroads. Seralei chanted across Ley-lines, Lela held the spear-shaft at each pillar, tracing runes against the stone. Loosie prepared the anchor-stone, runes cleaving themselves at her touch.
At the Friend's place, Mary stood with the Codex open. She placed her bloodied quill into the stone's slot.
With each oath, Mary wrote a new rune—created not from ink, but word and vow:
"By blood, by pact, by guardian spirit… this echo is bound."
The Friend stepped forward, met by each of the representatives, who placed their hands on his shoulders. A glow burst from the stone, sheets of runelight wrapping around him.
He closed his eyes, and a smile passed across his face—sad, but accepting.
When the lights died, the Friend weakened, but remained standing. He bowed to Mary. "Thank you for easing the echo's burden."
Seralei touched the stone. "She's gone?"
Mary watched the Friend sway. "Healed; bound."
Loosie helped steady him.
Cadeyn said softly, "Will there be consequences?"
The Friend met them—hollowed, but unbroken. "Only if we fail to remember."
Mary closed the codex and gathered the representatives. "Then we must renew this covenant each blood moon… until the last echo dissolves… or a new Author rises."
They nodded.
Then—unspoken—they looked at the distant rift's echo in the sky. Now barely visible—a pale sliver.
Mary touched Loosie's shoulder. "We have built something worth guarding."
Loosie gripped Mary's hand. "And we guard it together."
The blood moon waned. The Crossroads stood silent.
Mary carried the Codex in her arms as they walked back to camp—hearts steady, voices calm, paths forged.
It was done.
…for now.