---
There are nights that change history.
And there are nights that end it.
This was one of those nights.
---
Siyara stood at the edge of a ruined altar, carved into obsidian cliffs older than time, beneath a moon that no longer obeyed the stars.
The ash storm had passed.
The land around her was scarred in black spirals — flame-burned symbols in a language she couldn't read, but felt in her bones.
> "Why do I remember fire?" she whispered.
The Mark of Seyana on her palm pulsed. A second one had begun forming over her heart.
> "Because you were the Flame," Maari answered, lowering her hood. "You still are."
Then the earth shuddered.
A tremor.
Then a pulse — like the heartbeat of a buried god.
> "He's close," Siyara breathed.
---
Miles away, cloaked in borrowed robes and riding beneath false stars, Prince Rhaelor approached the edge of the Expanse.
Every dream had led him here. Every stolen scroll. Every haunted mirror.
His sword vibrated with heat — a blade that had never glowed until he stepped beyond the capital's reach.
> "She's here," he murmured. "I know it."
But before he could move farther, the sky split open.
Black fire poured from the heavens.
The Moon of Chains rose — a forbidden lunar phase only spoken of in tomb-prayers.
The desert screamed. And something ancient woke beneath it.
---
Siyara fell to her knees as the altar cracked.
From its center emerged a black serpent, made of bone and dust, its eyes burning with memories. Around its neck coiled ancient iron — branded with the same sigil on her hand.
> "The Binding Beast," Maari gasped.
> "It knows me," Siyara said.
And it did.
The serpent bowed its head — not in reverence… but in recognition.
> "You are her," it spoke, voice like breaking glass. "The one he killed."
> "He didn't kill me," Siyara said, rising.
> "No," the serpent hissed. "But he will. Again. Unless you break the oath."
> "What oath?"
The serpent bared its fangs.
> "The one written in your blood… and his soul."
---
Elsewhere, Rhaelor collapsed as a wave of heat struck him.
He saw a vision — of a burning field, of himself kneeling, of Siyara turning her back on him as flames consumed the world.
He screamed — not in pain, but in memory.
> "Not again…"
As he opened his eyes, the Mark of Seyana appeared on his wrist.
And in that moment, a voice from nowhere and everywhere whispered into both their souls:
> "One of you must die… for the other to remember."
---
End of Chapter 10: The Night the Sand Bled Black