The night air was still heavy with smoke when Lianna returned to the Pavilion. Her steps were unsteady, her palms trembling despite the feather's dim glow hidden beneath her sleeve.
Every sound echoed louder than it should have—the creak of the ancient gates, the rustle of lanterns swaying in the wind, the low murmur of disciples patrolling the courtyard. It felt as though the Pavilion itself was holding its breath, waiting for her to falter.
Her chest still burned with the memory of golden eyes. Of a voice whispering Amara. Of the bond that pulsed in her veins like wildfire refusing to die.
But she couldn't tell anyone.
Not yet.
---
The Council Summons
The moment she entered the outer hall, two senior disciples appeared at her side, bowing stiffly.
"Lianna," one said, his expression unreadable. "The Council of Elders summons you. Immediately."
Her throat tightened. They knew she had been near the rift. Maybe they even felt the disturbance.
She followed in silence, her steps echoing against polished stone floors. The corridors grew darker as they descended, lined with carved dragons and phoenixes whose eyes seemed to watch her.
At last, the disciples pushed open two towering doors.
Inside, the council chamber glowed with a cold blue fire.
Seven elders sat in a semicircle, each cloaked in robes heavy with ancient sigils. Their faces were stern, eyes like sharpened blades. The air itself seemed to thicken under their scrutiny, pressing against Lianna's chest until she struggled to breathe.
"Lianna of the outer sect," the First Elder intoned. "You were seen leaving the Pavilion grounds during forbidden hours. You approached the rift."
It wasn't a question.
Lianna bowed, forcing her voice steady. "Yes, Elder."
The murmurs that followed rippled like an undercurrent of judgment.
"Do you know the penalty for trespassing beyond the wards?" another elder asked, her tone cold as frost.
"Yes, Elder." Execution.
Her pulse raced, but she didn't flinch. "I sought to test the limits of my cultivation. I did not intend disrespect."
---
The Feather's Betrayal
The Second Elder's eyes narrowed. "And yet… something stirred tonight."
Before Lianna could reply, the feather in her sleeve grew hot, betraying her. A faint silver shimmer seeped through the fabric.
The chamber hushed.
Every elder's gaze fixed on her sleeve.
The First Elder's voice dropped to a dangerous calm. "Where did you obtain that relic?"
Lianna's breath caught. She hadn't meant for it to show. The feather pulsed faster, as though sensing danger.
"I… I found it," she whispered. "Near the rift."
Gasps echoed around the chamber. The Elders exchanged grim looks.
"That is no mere relic," the Fourth Elder said, his voice trembling. "It is a fragment of the Celestial Flame. A weapon sealed away ages ago."
Her stomach knotted. Celestial Flame? The name itself hummed with ancient power.
The First Elder leaned forward, his eyes piercing hers. "Such an artifact does not awaken by chance. It chose you. Tell us, child—did anything stir in the rift when you touched it?"
Lianna's heart pounded. Her tongue burned with the truth she couldn't reveal: Yes. I saw him. I touched him. He called me Amara.
If they knew, they would bind her. Or worse, kill her.
"No, Elder," she lied, her voice steady despite the weight of it. "Nothing stirred. Only shadows."
The silence that followed felt like a blade pressed against her throat.
---
Whispers of Dissent
At last, the elders withdrew into quiet discussion. Their voices curled like smoke, too faint to catch, but their glances toward her were sharp enough to wound.
One finally spoke aloud. "If the Celestial Flame awakens in her hand, perhaps she is not a threat. Perhaps she is a key."
Another snapped, "Or perhaps she is cursed, like the one who came before. We cannot risk it."
Lianna stiffened. The one who came before… Amara?
The word wasn't spoken, but it echoed in her mind all the same.
The debate stretched on, each voice pulling her fate in a different direction. At last, the First Elder raised his hand, silencing them.
"Lianna will remain within the Pavilion walls," he declared. "She is not to leave under any circumstance. Her training will be overseen directly by the Council. Until we know the truth, she is bound to us."
Bound.
The word sank into her like iron chains.
---
The Watcher in the Shadows
When the session ended, Lianna was escorted back to her quarters by two disciples. They left her at the threshold, but she could feel their eyes even as she shut the door.
She sank to the floor, clutching the feather to her chest. Her pulse still raced, her thoughts spinning.
The guardian's words echoed in her skull: Find me… before they bind you.
It was already happening.
She was a prisoner now, her every step caged.
But the bond burned stronger than fear. She couldn't abandon him—not when she had finally seen his face, heard his voice, felt the thrum of recognition in her soul.
If she did nothing, the elders would bury the truth forever.
And if she tried to act, she might damn herself.
Her head dropped into her hands. The silence pressed close—until she felt it.
A flicker.
Someone was watching.
Her eyes snapped open.
In the corner of her chamber, where the shadows pooled deepest, a figure stirred—hooded, cloaked, silent as the night.
Lianna's breath caught in her throat.
"You…" she whispered.
The figure lifted its head, and though its face remained hidden, the voice that slipped out was sharp and low.
"If you want answers," the stranger said, "meet me beneath the southern pagoda at midnight. Come alone."
And then the shadow was gone, melting into nothing.
Lianna's heart hammered. She didn't know if it was a trap, a test, or fate twisting tighter around her.
But one thing was certain.
She would go.
---
The moon hung low, veiled by clouds that churned like restless spirits. The Pavilion grounds were eerily silent at midnight; even the night insects seemed to have hushed, as if the very earth sensed the danger of the hour.
Lianna slipped from her quarters, her breath shallow, her heart thundering. Every step was a gamble, for the Elders had set watchers around her. But she moved with purpose, her body recalling the old forest paths of her childhood—swift, quiet, unseen.
The southern pagoda rose before her, an ancient structure that leaned with age, its paint long faded, its roof tiles broken. Few dared to linger here; it was said to be haunted by disciples who had failed the Pavilion's trials. The perfect place for forbidden meetings.
Lianna drew closer, her fingers brushing the feather hidden inside her robes. It pulsed faintly, as if urging her forward.
---
The Stranger Revealed
From the shadows beneath the pagoda, the hooded figure emerged. Tall, lean, movements fluid like a predator circling prey.
"You came," the stranger said. The voice was neither old nor young, but threaded with authority.
Lianna narrowed her eyes. "You told me you had answers."
The hood tilted. "Not answers. Truth. And truth is rarely kind."
"Then speak it," she demanded, masking the tremor in her chest. "Who are you? Why are you watching me?"
The stranger hesitated, then reached up and pulled back the hood.
A man's face emerged—sharp, angular, marked with a scar across his jaw. His eyes were a stormy gray, ancient yet burning with suppressed fury.
"My name," he said slowly, "is Kael. Once, I was a disciple of this Pavilion. Now, I am its enemy."
Lianna's breath caught. "Enemy?"
Kael's smile was bitter. "Because I know what they keep from you. What they fear you will discover."
---
The Past That Haunts
Kael's voice dropped to a near whisper.
"Long ago, a woman walked these halls. She bore the same flame in her as you. The Celestial Flame chose her, as it has chosen you. Her name was Amara."
Lianna's body stiffened. Her pulse roared in her ears.
Amara.
The name she had heard in the rift. The name the golden-eyed man had called her.
Kael continued, his eyes never leaving hers. "The Elders feared her power. They told her she was a savior, a weapon against the darkness. But when she uncovered the truth of the Flame, they bound her, sealed her away… and erased her name from history."
"No…" Lianna whispered, though the denial rang hollow. She had felt it—the tug of recognition, the echo of something ancient inside her.
Kael stepped closer. "They will do the same to you. Unless you break free."
---
The Hidden Bond
Lianna shook her head, her thoughts whirling. "And the one in the rift? The man with golden eyes? Who is he?"
Kael's gaze sharpened. "So you've seen him."
Her silence was answer enough.
Kael exhaled heavily, almost like a man carrying too many ghosts. "He is no man, Lianna. He is the Guardian of the Rift—cursed to remain between worlds. Once, he was bound to Amara, as flame to kindling. That bond does not die, even if she does. That is why he calls to you. Because you are her reborn."
The words struck her like thunder. Reborn.
She staggered back, shaking her head. "No. I'm Lianna. Not her. I can't be—"
"Deny it all you want," Kael cut in sharply. "But the Flame burns in you. The relic chose you. The bond already stirs. Whether you wish it or not, your fate is tied to his."
The feather burned hot against her chest, pulsing in violent agreement.
---
A Choice of Chains
Kael's voice softened, though the storm in his eyes remained. "I came tonight not to frighten you, but to warn you. The Council watches you. They will push you harder, closer to breaking. And when you falter, they will seal you away, just as they did with her."
Lianna's hands clenched into fists. Anger boiled beneath her fear—anger at the elders, at the lies, at the destiny that seemed written for her without her consent.
"What do you want me to do?" she asked, her voice tight.
Kael leaned closer, his words sharp as a blade. "Leave the Pavilion. Come with me. There are those beyond these walls who remember Amara, who fight for the truth. Together, we can awaken the Guardian fully and free him. But you must choose—obedience to your cage, or defiance to carve your own path."
---
Interrupted
Before Lianna could reply, the air shifted.
A flare of spiritual pressure crashed over them, cold and suffocating. Lanterns lining the pagoda guttered, shadows writhing like serpents.
Kael cursed, his hand going to the blade at his side. "They found us."
From the darkness, two Pavilion enforcers emerged, robes black as night, eyes glowing with binding sigils. The Elders' hounds.
"Lianna of the Pavilion," one barked, voice hard as stone. "Step away from the traitor. You are bound by the Council's decree!"
Lianna froze, heart pounding.
Kael snarled, positioning himself between her and the enforcers. "Run," he hissed. "If they take you now, you'll never see freedom again!"
But Lianna couldn't move. Her blood screamed with indecision, torn between the loyalty she was raised in and the truth clawing at her from Kael's words.
The enforcers raised their blades, sigils flaring.
Kael drew his sword, flames licking its edge. "Decide, girl! Stay in chains—or burn them with me!"
----
❓️❓️❓️❓️❓️❓️
If you were Lianna, would you trust Kael and defy the Pavilion now, or surrender to the Elders in hopes of uncovering the truth from within?