"The blade remembers. But it is the soul that bleeds."
---
Rhaelor's campfire flickered, even though there was no wind.
He had not slept since touching the sword.
Every time he closed his eyes, he didn't just dream — he remembered.
Not just flashes. Not feelings.
Entire lifetimes.
---
Tonight, it was the first.
Before kingdoms. Before names.
Before Aurelya.
Back when he had no name, just a number — the Seventh General of the Ashen Gate.
She was the Seer's daughter. A healer. Meant to be sacrificed to the gods of flame so the drought would end.
He had been ordered to slit her throat.
And he did.
But she did not die.
Not all the way.
---
Her blood fell onto the black soil.
And the flames turned blue.
Lightning struck the altar.
And the gods, for the first time in a thousand years, opened their eyes.
---
He had fallen to his knees in front of her, the blade still wet in his hand.
> "What… what are you?" he asked.
> "The end of you," she whispered, still alive. "And the beginning."
---
Rhaelor woke screaming, grasping his chest.
His companions rushed into the tent, but he shoved them away.
His chest mark burned brighter than ever — the phoenix crest glowing molten red, cracking his skin.
He tore open the scroll he had stolen — the Prophecy of the Bound Flame.
There, in cursed ink, was the line he had once scoffed at:
> "He who kills her in every life shall love her the most."
> "He who swears the Oath shall burn the longest."
---
Rhaelor stood before the mirror, shaking.
> "I killed her," he whispered. "In every life. And she… she comes back. Every time."
And something in him, something cold and broken, snapped.
He punched the mirror.
Glass shattered.
> "Not again."
> "Never again."
---
And far across the dunes, Siyara — no, Aurelya — woke with a scream.
In her dream, she saw him again.
Holding the blade.
But this time… he dropped it.
And stepped toward her with empty hands.
---
End of Chapter 13: The First Time He Killed Her
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