All Chapters of WAR GOD'S CRIMSON AWAKENING : Chapter 41
- Chapter 50
61 chapters
Harlan’s Shadow
Harlan Voss hadn’t slept in three nights.Not properly.The kind of sleep where your eyes close and your mind quiets. No, his nights were full of half-dreams falling airships, gray eyes staring up from the dust, crimson mist coiling like smoke from a wound he couldn’t cauterize and every time he jolted awake, the manor’s tilt greeted him like an accusation, the floor sloping just enough now that his boots slid a fraction when he paced the throne hall’s polished marble, the sound of his steps uneven, off-balance, the way everything felt lately.He stood at the high window again, hands braced on the sill, knuckles white against the gold trim that used to gleam like it meant something. The view below was shrinking Greyhaven’s platforms closer every day, the siege lines clearer, tiny figures moving like ants around fires that burned too steadily, too long. His father sat behind him on the throne still throne, even with half the cores dead face carved from stone, flame aura dimmed to a lo
The Quiet Before the Fall
The manor hung lower than ever now, so close some mornings I could almost make out the faces on the balconies if I squinted against the gray light, the golden spires scraping clouds like teeth too tired to bite, and the wind that came down carried the smell of cooling iron mixed with the faint, wet rot of mana cores giving up the ghost, the kind of smell that settles in your throat and stays there, reminding you every breath is borrowed from a house that’s already half-dead. I woke early again, before the others stirred, the ache in my side a dull throb that had settled into something familiar, like an old friend who never quite leaves, and I lay there a moment listening to the cavern breathe Rag’s deep snores rolling like distant thunder, Mira’s small sleepy breaths beside him, Liora’s even rhythm against my shoulder where she’d fallen asleep curled into me sometime in the night.I didn’t move right away.Just felt her there. The warmth of her back against my chest, the way her hai
The Quiet Before the Fall II
The manor hung lower than ever now, so close some mornings I could almost reach out and touch the bottom spires if I stood on my toes and stretched, the gold paint peeling in long strips that fluttered down like dying leaves every time the wind gusted hard, and the smell that came with it was worse up close hot iron cooling too fast, mana cores hissing like wet coals, the faint sour rot of things burning out inside a house that had once thought itself untouchable. I stood there alone for a while, cloak wrapped tight, the pull in my side a dull ache that flared when I breathed deep but didn’t stop me from watching the slow collapse, the way the lights blinked out section by section like someone inside was giving up room by room. Liora found me when the sky turned the color of old bruises, steps soft on the stone, the faint rustle of her cloak the only warning before her shoulder pressed against mine, warm and steady in the gray light. She didn’t speak at first. Just stood with me.
The Breaking Point
The manor didn’t just lean anymore; it hung like a broken promise, the lowest spires scraping the upper platforms of Greyhaven on every strong gust, metal screeching against stone in a sound that woke me before the dawn horns could, a high, grating whine that set my teeth on edge and made the stitches in my side pull tight even when I tried to breathe shallow. I sat up slow. Too slow. The cavern was still dark, fire down to embers that glowed red and sullen, throwing long shadows across the mats where the team slept in uneven piles, Rag sprawled like a felled tree, Mira tucked under his arm, her small fist clutching his fur; Jax and Kora curled back-to-back, wind and earth mana humming faint between them even in sleep; Seraphine sitting upright against the wall, eyes open, flame flickering tiny in her palm like she hadn’t closed them all night. Liora was already awake beside me. She hadn’t slept. I could tell from the way her shoulders stayed rigid, the way her hand rested on her
The Shadow in the Circle
The manor’s groan had become a constant now, a deep, grinding complaint that vibrated up through the stone under our feet and into our bones every time we moved, like the whole structure was trying to speak one last time before it gave up completely, and the air that drifted down from above tasted of rust and dying heat, the kind of taste that lingers on your tongue and makes you swallow hard just to get rid of it. I woke before the others again, the ache in my side a dull, familiar pulse that no longer surprised me, only reminded me with every breath that I was still here, still fighting, still bleeding in places that didn’t show on the outside. The cavern was quiet except for Rag’s low rumble of a snore and Mira’s small, even breaths where she curled against his arm, her drawing parchment crinkled under her cheek, the crimson wolves she’d scratched out last night staring up at me with charcoal eyes. I sat up slow. Liora stirred beside me. Her hand found my wrist before her eyes
The Blade in the Back
The cavern turned cold the moment the doors slammed open, not the kind of cold that comes from wind or stone, but the kind that sinks into your chest and makes every breath feel like swallowing glass, the fire in the middle guttering low as though even the flames knew something had just broken irreparably. Seraphine stepped back toward the guards. Her flame flared bright crimson and gold, Voss colors lighting her face in a way that made the guilt in her eyes look almost beautiful, almost tragic, like she had convinced herself this was the only path left, the only way to keep the house she’d been born into from crumbling entirely. Liora moved first. Sword out in a heartbeat, lightning crackling along the edge so fast the air smelled of burned ozone and sudden rain, her body positioned between me and the doorway, shoulders squared, braid whipping as she turned to face the woman who’d fought beside us for weeks. “You lied,” Liora said. Voice low. Shaking. Not with fear with somethin
Shards of Trust
The cavern went still the moment Seraphine’s flame flared toward the entrance, not bright enough to blind, but sharp enough to cut through the dim like a knife through cloth, and in that instant the fire in the middle seemed to shrink back, as though even the embers understood what had just happened, what had been broken in a single heartbeat. I felt it before I saw it fully the shift in the air, the way the warmth of the fire suddenly felt cold against my skin, the way Liora’s hand on my arm went rigid, fingers digging in hard enough to bruise, her breath catching sharp and shallow like she’d been punched in the ribs. Seraphine stood framed in the doorway now, flame still dancing in her palm, but it was different smaller, almost apologetic, the light catching tears that tracked down her cheeks and made her look younger, smaller, like the girl who once watched me beaten and said nothing might still be inside there somewhere, screaming. The guards behind her didn’t rush. They waite
The Knife You Didn’t See
The cavern felt like it had shrunk in the hours after Seraphine’s flame flared toward the entrance, walls pressing in, air thick with the smell of burned ozone from Liora’s lightning and the copper-sweet tang of fresh blood that hadn’t quite dried yet, the kind that sticks to your tongue when you breathe too deep and makes every swallow taste like metal and regret. I stood in the center of the mess, Reaper still in my hand, blade low but dripping, crimson mist coiling lazy around the edge like smoke that refused to rise, and the fire in the middle had gone out completely, only embers left glowing sullen red, throwing jagged shadows that made everyone’s faces look carved from stone. Liora’s sword trembled in her grip not from weakness, from fury so deep it shook her bones, her breathing ragged, chest rising and falling fast, violet eyes locked on the doorway where Seraphine had disappeared with the guards, the echo of their boots still ringing in the corridors like a heartbeat that w
The Weight of the Quiet
The manor’s groan had become a constant companion now, a low, grinding complaint that rolled through the stone beneath our feet and into our bones every time we tried to rest, the sound rising and falling like breathing, like the house itself was still alive enough to feel pain but not strong enough to fight back anymore, and the air that drifted down tasted of rust and dying heat, the faint, wet-char rot of mana cores giving up one by one until only the throne hall’s stubborn glow remained high above, a single candle refusing to gutter out. I woke before the others again, the ache in my side a dull, familiar pulse that no longer surprised me, only reminded me with every breath that I was still here, still fighting, still bleeding in places that didn’t show on the outside. The cavern was quiet except for Rag’s deep rumble of a snore and Mira’s small, even breaths where she curled against his arm, her drawing parchment crinkled under her cheek, the crimson wolves she’d scratched out l
The Last Quiet
: The manor’s fall had slowed to a crawl, not because it wanted to live, but because the last cores were fighting to keep it aloft, each one flickering like a candle in a storm, throwing weak golden light that barely reached the lower platforms anymore, and the wind that swept down tasted of scorched wiring and the faint, wet metal rot of things burning out inside walls that had once gleamed like they would never tarnish. I woke in the gray before dawn, the ache in my side a dull, constant companion now, not sharp anymore, just there, like a bruise that had settled into bone and decided to stay, the stitches pulling only when I forgot and twisted too fast, reminding me that healing isn’t the same as being whole. The cavern was quiet except for Rag’s low rumble of a snore and Mira’s small, even breaths where she curled against his arm, her drawing parchment crinkled under her cheek, the crimson wolves she’d scratched out last night staring up at me with charcoal eyes that looked too