Story cover for The Bone Harp by a-raven-and-the-moon
The Bone Harp
  • Reads 34
  • Votes 2
  • Parts 4
  • Time 54m
  • Reads 34
  • Votes 2
  • Parts 4
  • Time 54m
Ongoing, First published Sep 05
2 new parts
In the shadow of Rome's conquest, a child is born of two worlds-Alonwyn, daughter of an African soldier torn from Aethiopia and a Celtic woman of Gaul. Orphaned by violence and raised by a druid who teaches her the old ways, she grows into a woman revered for her voice, her wisdom, and the uncanny depth of her gaze.

But when Rome's legions return to burn her village and desecrate the sacred grove, grief and fury awaken a power darker than she ever imagined. In the ashes of her people, the goddess Carthwyn-she who governs death and sacred terror-offers Alonwyn the Bone Harp, an instrument strung with sorrow itself. With it, she may summon vengeance so absolute it would stain the earth forever.

Alonwyn must choose: surrender her spirit to the goddess and let her song become a dirge of death, or defy the divine, bearing the weight of memory rather than bloodshed. Her journey is one of mourning and defiance, where music becomes both wound and healing, and where the gods themselves test the limits of mortal resolve.

Myth and history entwine in The Bone Harp, a story of ancestry, vengeance, and the redemptive power of memory. Through Alonwyn's struggle, we are reminded that even in a world devoured by empire, there is strength in refusing to forget-and in choosing life when death beckons.
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Beneath The Emblem

73 parts Ongoing

There is a kind of silence that comes just before thunder-heavy, suffocating. That was the silence in Sahastra Tripathi's heart. He had walked away from privilege and power-for love. For Sparshika. But she wasn't Sparshika. She was Urvi. And everything he had abandoned was now burning behind him. "What happened, Urvi? Did you forget your name or think I was a fool?" "I... I was going to tell you-" Two strides. He grabbed her hair. CRACK! Her head slammed into the kitchen counter. Plates shattered. She cried out, collapsing, blood gushing from her forehead. "Sahastra ji!" she whimpered. He yanked her back up. SLAP! Her cheek snapped sideways. She fell again, lip split open. "Please don't hit me..." He pressed his shoe on her cheek, grinding it into the marble. "You lied to me. Your name, your past-everything was a lie." "No... I love you!" He crouched, grabbed her face. His eyes burned. "My father was on the brink of death... because of you." She blinked, stunned. "What?" "Still pretending?" SLAP! She hit the floor again. "I really don't know..." He didn't let her finish. He lifted her, threw her over his shoulder, stormed into the bedroom and threw her onto the bed. His belt came off. He tied her wrists to the bedposts-tight, ruthless. He crouched again, jaw clenched. "Because of you, my father is in this condition." "You gave away his location, didn't you?" "But too bad... he survived." "But now he can't walk. And neither will you." He grabbed her foot-twisted. CRACK! She screamed. He smiled darkly. "Don't stop screaming. Your pain soothes me." He grabbed her other foot. Twisted-slow, calculated. Stopped just before the break. "I could break it... but not yet." "I'll break you. And your legs. Slowly." He stood, breath ragged. Eyes hollow. "Just like my father can't walk... you never will." He turned, slammed the door. Urvi lay tied, broken, bleeding. She could no longer tell what hurt more-her body, or her heart.