The cabin was quiet, save for the rain tapping on its roof. The night outside was wild — winds twisting through trees like restless spirits. Inside, a single lamp flickered near Lian's still form.
He lay on the bed, drenched in cold sweat. His breathing was ragged, the veins on his neck glowing faintly gold before dimming again, as if something inside him was at war with itself.
Lira sat beside him, her usual steel calm replaced by something unfamiliar — worry. She pressed a damp cloth to his forehead, her wolf ears twitching each time he groaned.
"His energy's unstable," Nisha whispered from the corner, clutching her spirit staff. "It's like his body is burning from the inside."
Lyra stood by the window, watching the storm outside. "He used too much of that power. The seal's reacting."
Lira's gaze snapped to her twin. "Seal?"
Lyra didn't answer right away. She turned toward Lian, her eyes narrowing. "I felt it when he unleashed his energy in the forest. Something divine, old. The gods' work."
Lira placed her palm gently against Lian's chest. His heartbeat thundered beneath her touch — chaotic, desperate. She let her spiritual sense sink deeper, past flesh and blood, into the current of golden light within him.
For a moment, everything else vanished.
She was standing inside his soul.
Around her stretched a vast void of stars — silent, eternal. At the center of that void, chains of light wrapped around something immense, something alive. Each link shimmered with runes older than language.
A voice whispered through the dark.
You should not be here.
The sound wasn't threatening — it was weary, echoing through infinity.
Lira took a step forward. "Who are you?"
The stars trembled. A shape began to form within the chains — tall, radiant, crowned in light. His face was hidden, but his presence was unmistakable. Divinity.
The one they bound.
Her breath caught. "Bound… by whom?"
By those who feared me — those who once called me their kin.
The chains tightened, and pain rippled through Lian's real body. He groaned in the waking world, clutching at his chest. Lira's spirit shuddered at the echo of it.
She reached toward the seal, and light flared — blinding, searing. The force threw her back into her body.
When she opened her eyes, she was gasping. The scent of rain filled her lungs. Her hands were trembling.
Lyra was already watching her. "You saw it, didn't you?"
Lira nodded slowly. "A divine seal. Not spirit magic. Not mortal either. This is… something from the heavens themselves."
Lyra's jaw tightened. "Then he's no ordinary immortal. He's something the gods wanted forgotten."
Nisha stepped forward, frowning. "Why would the gods curse one of their own? He doesn't even remember who he is."
Lira turned back to Lian. His body still glowed faintly beneath his skin — that same golden current pulsing like a heartbeat too strong for a human frame. "Because he's not supposed to exist here."
The storm outside grew fiercer as hours passed.
Lira remained at his side, tracing faint sigils in the air — runes of cooling and containment. Each time she whispered a charm, the glow under his skin dimmed slightly, easing his pain.
When he stirred at last, his voice was hoarse. "Lira?"
"I'm here."
His eyes fluttered open, gold flickering faintly within the brown. "Everything hurts."
"I know." She brushed his hair from his forehead. "You've been fighting the seal inside you."
He blinked, confused. "Seal?"
"Yes." Her tone softened. "It's not a curse placed by enemies. It's divine — meant to suppress your true form."
He laughed weakly. "My… true form?"
She hesitated before answering. "You're not human, Lian. You're not even just immortal. You were exiled — locked away from heaven itself."
Silence filled the cabin. Only the rain dared move.
He sat up slowly, staring at his trembling hands. "That's impossible. I grew up here. I've always been…" His voice faltered. "Normal."
"Then why do your wounds vanish? Why does your blood burn like light?" Her words were soft but relentless. "You can't hide from what's inside you."
He pressed his palms to his eyes, trembling. "If that's true… then why don't I remember any of it?"
Lira's voice was almost a whisper. "Because the seal doesn't just bind your power — it binds your memories. The gods erased your past."
Lyra turned from the window, her expression unreadable. "There are stories — of a fallen immortal who defied the Celestial Thrones. A being whose compassion for mortals shattered divine law."
Nisha gasped. "You think that's him?"
Lyra's gaze met Lira's. "I don't think. I know. The legends called him the Starborn Exile — the one who loved humanity enough to lose eternity."
Lian's breath caught. A flash of memory ripped through his mind — a woman's voice, soft and aching:
"They sealed you to protect us all."
He recoiled as pain lanced through his chest, and the golden sigils under his skin flared violently. The lamp burst, plunging the room into flickering shadow.
"Lian!" Lira caught him before he could fall. Her hands glowed with spirit light, weaving runes of containment again — but this time, the seal resisted. The golden light surged outward, burning through her magic.
A scream tore from his throat. The cabin walls shook.
"Get back!" Lyra barked, forming a shield of moonlight. Nisha dragged a protective barrier across the floor with her staff.
Lira didn't move. She held him tighter, ignoring the pain searing her hands. "You have to fight it," she whispered. "Don't let it consume you."
"I—I can't—" His voice broke. "It's killing me."
"Then let me help." She closed her eyes, pressing her forehead to his. "Share it with me."
Her spirit light merged with his, silver entwining with gold. The divine chains deep within him quivered — sensing intrusion.
Pain slammed through both of them, but Lira didn't let go. She poured her own essence into the storm within him, soothing, binding, whispering ancient words meant to calm the wild.
Slowly, the light subsided. The cabin stilled.
When Lira opened her eyes again, the storm outside had softened into a drizzle. Lian's body was limp but peaceful — his breathing steady.
Lyra stepped closer, awe flickering across her usually stoic face. "You touched the seal and survived."
Lira looked down at her glowing palms — streaked now with faint golden veins. "It recognized me," she murmured. "Or… pitied me."
Lyra's eyes darkened. "That means it's aware. It still lives within him."
"Yes." Lira gazed at Lian's sleeping face. "And it's waiting."
Later that night, when the others slept, Lira sat alone beside the bed. The fire had burned low, throwing amber light across his face.
She traced the faint gold lines beneath his skin, whispering to herself. "Exiled from heaven, sealed by gods, bound to pain…"
Her chest tightened. She had seen countless souls across the Spirit Realms — warriors, monsters, kings. But never one like him.
She reached out, brushing her fingers along his jaw. "Who were you, Lian? And why does it feel like I've known you before the moon ever rose?"
Outside, the clouds parted just enough for moonlight to spill through the window, resting on his face. For a heartbeat, she swore she saw wings — vast and broken — flicker in his shadow.
The seal pulsed once beneath his skin, like a heartbeat of divinity still chained.
And far beyond the mortal forest, somewhere above the veil of worlds, the gods stirred — their slumber fracturing as an ancient mark on their celestial scroll began to glow once more.