The Alpha's Fated Outcast Rise Of The Moonsinger novel Chapter 343

Chapter 343: Trials of echoes - past lives...

Lyla

The clearing facing the Northern Forest shone brightly under the Moonlight.

I’d gone to bed early after telling Ramsey I was tired and needed to rest. When I arrived, not just Circe but Nanny, Terra, and three priestesses I recognised from the Moon Temple were waiting.

They were all dressed in ceremonial gowns and formed a circle around a pattern of intricate symbols drawn in what looked like crushed rocks and herbs.

"You came," Nanny said with a frown. I know she wished I were anywhere but here. "I thought you might change your mind or couldn’t convince Ramsey that you needed time alone tonight."

"Nanny," I sighed. "I need to do this, hmm? I’ll be fine." I replied, approaching the circle cautiously.

Terra stepped forward, handing me a simple white shift. "Change into this. The trial requires you to be free of modern attachments."

I nodded, slipping behind a nearby tree to change. When I returned, Circe was arguing with Nanny in hushed tones.

"—perfectly safe if she maintains focus," Circe insisted.

"Nothing about this is safe," Nanny countered. "You know as well as I do that some people never return from the echoes."

They fell silent when they noticed me. Circe’s expression shifted to something more ceremonial as she gestured for me to approach.

"Before you enter the circle," she said formally, "you should understand what awaits. The Trial of Echoes will show you the lives of previous Moonsingers, from the most recent back to Neriah herself. You’ll experience their triumphs, failures, and most importantly, how they used their powers. Remember the death of a Moonsinger is also a rebirth of another Moonsinger, but 10,000 years passed before you were reborn."

"Will I just be watching?" I asked.

Terra shook her head. "You’ll experience their lives as if they were your own. Their emotions, pain, and joy will all feel real to you."

"And the danger?" I pressed.

"Some people become lost in the echoes," one of the priestesses explained. They forget who they are and where they come from. They remain trapped in the past, and their bodies will become empty shells in the present."

I swallowed hard. "How do I prevent that?"

"Remember your name," Nanny said firmly. "No matter what you see or feel, remember that you are Lyla, daughter of Miriam and Logan Woodland, mate of Ramsey Kincaid, mother of—" She caught herself, glancing at the other priestesses. "Remember who you are."

Circe nodded in agreement. "Your identity is your anchor."

"My identity is my anchor," I nodded. "Got it!"

I stepped forward, ready to enter the circle, but Circe held up her hand. "First, we must prepare your path."

The priestesses took positions around the circle and began a low, haunting chant in a language I didn’t recognise. Terra joined them, her deep alto adding richness to their soprano tones.

"Blood of the present calls to blood of the past," Nanny translated quietly beside me. Memories sleeping in Moonlight await the wakening touch. The wisdom of ancestors flows through the vessel. Time becomes nothing; space becomes void."

The chanting grew louder as Circe stepped forward with a small earthen bowl. "Your blood will connect you to the bloodline of Moonsingers," she explained, offering me a silver dagger.

I hesitated briefly before cutting my palm and allowing several drops to enter the bowl. Circe mixed it with the iridescent liquid I’d seen earlier and added crushed herbs that sizzled upon contact.

"When the chanting reaches its peak, you will enter the circle, drink the mixture, and lie down in the centre," she instructed. "Your spirit will begin the journey while we maintain the connection here."

"How about the babies?" Nanny asked from beside me. "What will happen to them?"

"My babies?" I turned to Circe. "Is there a problem?"

"Well," Circe sighed, "in the Veilwalk, you should only focus on yourself, and if you don’t do that, you might get trapped."

My hand flew to my stomach immediately. "You’re asking me to forget that I am pregnant?"

Circe nodded. "Terra mentioned that your wolf came back to protect the children. I hope she shows up in time to keep them safe. Can you communicate with her? I can’t feel her."

Despite wearing only a Gamma commander’s insignia, he led with natural authority.

"Hold the line!" he shouted to his warriors. "Don’t let them break through to the village!"

One of his men fell, ripped apart by Feral claws. Another soon followed. The line was collapsing.

"Fall back to position three!" Aeron commanded. "Archers, cover their retreat!"

As his warriors regrouped, three massive Ferals cornered Aeron against a rocky outcropping. He raised his sword, prepared to die fighting.

There was something strange about these Ferals. They weren’t like the ones we had fought at White Mountains. These seemed like the ones who had attacked me at the Northern Forest. They had this intelligent glow in their eyes.

"Come then," he growled. "Let’s see what you’re made of."

The first Feral lunged. Aeron slashed with his sword, opening a gash across its chest, but the wound closed almost instantly. The second and third circled, looking for an opening.

Fear flashed across Aeron’s face—not for himself but for his warriors beyond. "If I fall, they all die," he whispered.

Something changed in his expression then—a realisation, a surrender to something greater than himself. He opened his mouth, and instead of a battle cry, a melody emerged.

The song wasn’t beautiful—it was raw, instinctual, almost primal. But it carried power that made the very air vibrate. The Ferals froze, then turned on each other, tearing and slashing with uncontrolled fury.

Aeron watched in horror and fascination as the creatures destroyed each other. When the last one fell, he stared at his hands as if they’d become foreign objects.

"Commander!" A warrior approached cautiously. "What did you do to them?"

Aeron looked up, confusion evident in his eyes. "I... don’t know."

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