---
Elaris
The storm had broken by the time we reached the city's edge.
Fog rolled over the ruins like smoke, thick and unwelcoming. The old forest beyond shimmered faintly under moonlight — alive, breathing, waiting.
The Compass of Threnar floated between my palms, spinning violently. The red light pulsed faster with every step I took.
"He's here," I whispered.
Rowen tightened his coat, his breath fogging in the cold. "Elaris, this is insane. The last time the compass turned crimson was during the Fall of Arcathar — it's not meant to be used this close to an unbound entity."
"I don't care," I said. My voice came out sharper than I intended. "If he's tied to me, I need to know why."
Rowen gave me that look — half worry, half loyalty. "You're shaking."
I was. Not from fear, but from something heavier — a pull, deep under my skin, magnetic and painful.
Like gravity had learned my name.
We pushed through the fog until the ruins appeared — ancient pillars half-swallowed by vines, engraved with sigils older than any human tongue. The air shimmered faintly, warping the edges of vision.
Rowen stopped short. "Elaris… the ley-lines here are active."
"I know."
"No — you don't understand." He knelt, fingers brushing the mossy ground. "They're inverted. Whatever's buried beneath is drawing energy upward. That shouldn't be possible unless—"
The compass screamed.
Light burst from my hands, knocking us both back. For an instant, I saw it — a silhouette standing within the crimson flare, tall, still, haloed in gold fire.
Then it vanished.
I gasped, clutching my chest. The mark beneath my collarbone burned like molten iron.
Rowen scrambled to his feet. "Elaris!"
I couldn't answer. My vision fractured — flickers of another world bleeding through. Marble halls. Chains of light. Eyes that glowed like eclipses.
Then — a voice.
> "You shouldn't have come here."
---
Lucien
The night bled through the ruins, painting everything in shades of iron and gold.
I stood where the veil was thinnest — where the world whispered my name through cracks in its skin.
For centuries, silence had been my only company. Then, she had touched the seal.
The moment her blood spilled over it, the darkness inside me stirred. The tether flared. I felt her pulse before I saw her face.
And now, she was close.
I could feel her — the Archivist with the scent of ink and rain.
Every heartbeat she took echoed inside my own chest, as if she were carved from the same memory that bound me to this forsaken realm.
The air trembled.
I stepped out of the shadows.
---
Elaris
The fog thinned just enough for me to see him.
He wasn't supposed to look like that — like something both divine and ruinous. His hair fell in dark waves, glinting faintly in the stormlight. His eyes — those impossible eyes — glowed faint gold, rimmed with crimson, as though light and fire were warring within him.
He said nothing at first. Just studied me, silent, wary — as if waiting for me to remember something I had forgotten.
"You," I breathed. "You were in my dream."
He tilted his head. "And you were in my prison."
The words hit harder than I expected.
"What are you?" I asked.
"Once?" His tone was quiet, bitter. "A weapon. Then a curse. Now—" His gaze lingered on me, softening just enough to unsettle me. "—something unfinished."
The compass flickered violently between us, caught between attraction and warning. Rowen raised a ward sigil, his voice shaking. "Elaris, step back. That thing isn't human."
Lucien's eyes narrowed. "You shouldn't speak of what you don't understand, mortal."
"Enough." I stepped between them, though my heart was racing. "Lucien Vaelrith." The name tasted ancient on my tongue — one of the forgotten heirs, sealed by gods for sins unspoken. "Why me?"
He smiled faintly — no warmth, just knowing. "Because you opened the door."
"I didn't mean to—"
"You touched the seal. You broke the vow."
The words rang in my chest. "Then unbind it."
He laughed softly. It was a sound like thunder beneath velvet. "You can't unbind what was written before time."
Rowen muttered under his breath, "Wonderful. He's poetic."
Lucien ignored him. His gaze pinned me in place. "You carry part of the vow now. The blood remembers its promise. And soon, so will you."
"Promise?" I whispered.
He took a step closer. "That when I returned, you would find me."
"I don't even know you."
"Not in this life."
Something inside me shifted — a pulse, a flash, the echo of a memory that wasn't mine. A battlefield drowned in light. A hand reaching through smoke. My own voice, screaming his name — centuries ago.
I stumbled, dizzy. "What are you doing to me?"
Lucien's expression softened, almost pained. "Nothing. You're remembering."
He reached toward me, fingers brushing air — and for a heartbeat, I saw what hid beneath his skin: the dual flame, half divine, half infernal.
Rowen shouted, "Elaris, don't—"
Too late. The compass shattered. Light exploded.
---
When the smoke cleared, Lucien was gone.
The sigils in the ruins flickered out. The forest went silent.
Rowen ran to me, his hand on my shoulder. "Elaris, are you okay?"
I opened my eyes slowly. The mark on my chest had stopped glowing — but I could still feel him.
"I think," I whispered, voice trembling, "he's inside the tether now."
Rowen frowned. "Meaning?"
"Meaning he's not bound to the ruins anymore."
Rowen's eyes widened. "You let him out?"
"No," I said softly, staring into the fog where his presence still lingered. "He followed me."
---
Miles away, in the depths of the city, Lucien stood beneath the moonlight, watching the skyline shimmer through the mist. The sigils beneath his skin dimmed, faint and golden.
He looked at his palm — the trace of her touch still burning faintly.
> "The vow begins again."