The halls of the Arcanum Library were endless, spiraling towers of knowledge wrapped in shadow and secrets. Dimly lit chandeliers cast flickering golden hues over the ancient tomes, and the scent of ink and parchment filled the air. It was a place of silence, of whispers between the past and the present—a domain of scholars and spellcasters alike.
Zayn strode through the vast corridors with Raiden at his side. The warrior was out of place here, his presence an unsettling force amidst the scholars who scurried away at the mere sight of him. But it was not Raiden they feared.
It was who they had come for.
Elara Harkness.
A name Zayn knew all too well. In his past life, she had been an enigma. A mage who thirsted for knowledge more than power, but wielded both with terrifying mastery. She had stood against him, unraveling his every strategy, countering his every move with a calculated smirk and spells that defied logic. And yet, despite it all, he had respected her.
He had also killed her.
This time would be different.
Zayn and Raiden entered the central chamber, a cathedral of knowledge where a lone figure stood before a massive floating tome, its pages flipping on their own accord. Elara did not turn to greet them, though Zayn knew she was aware of their presence. She was draped in obsidian robes, her silver hair cascading down her back like moonlight over the abyss. Runes glowed faintly around her, pulsating in time with her breath.
At the heart of the dimly lit chamber, beneath the soft glow of a floating crystal, Elara Harkness sat at a desk.
Zayn approached, silent as a shadow. He placed a book in front of her, one older than any in the Academy's archives.
Her violet eyes flicked across the pages of an ancient tome, her expression unreadable, her presence like an untouched blade—sharp, elegant, dangerous.
Raiden stiffened beside him. Zayn took a deep breath before saying "You don't have your memories do you?"
Zayn half expected that the Empires Darkest Mage might've left a back-up in her tome, The Codex Noctis.
Elara's fingers stopped. Slowly, she looked up at him, her gaze cold, calculating.
"Where did you get this?" she asked, voice quiet, but laced with suspicion.
Zayn slid into the seat across from her. "Does it matter?"
Elara's gaze flickered down to the book. The leather cover was worn, its title faded, but the moment her fingers brushed against the surface, she knew.
A sharp inhale. A flicker of disbelief.
"…This is impossible."
She ran her fingers across the cover, the ink pulsing as though alive. Then, in a voice barely above a whisper—"Codex Noctis."
The moment the name left her lips, the air in the library seemed to darken, as something inside her fractured.
A pulse of energy shot up her arm, not painful, but overwhelming—like a thousand voices whispering at once, like the turning of ancient gears buried beneath time itself.
Her vision blurred.
Then, the world collapsed.
Memories of a Life Lost
She was no longer in the library.
The scent of parchment and candle wax was gone.
Instead, she stood amid ruin.
The Imperial Sanctum burned.
Her breath hitched as she took a step forward, her boots sinking into the blood-soaked marble. The sky above churned, black smoke choking out the stars, the air thick with the scent of ash and death.
She knew this place.
She remembered this moment.
And then, she heard it.
Footsteps. Steady. Inevitable.
She turned, and there he was.
Zayn.
Golden eyes, gleaming even through the chaos. Cloak tattered, armor dented, but standing unshaken.
His presence swallowed the battlefield, undeniable and inexorable.
Her heart pounded against her ribs.
This was it.
The moment she had died.
She tried to move—tried to fight, to run, to scream—
But her body followed the script of the past, a prisoner to time's cruel embrace.
She saw herself tremble. She felt the exhaustion seeping into her bones, the weight of her own failures pressing down on her like a collapsing tower.
She heard Zayn's voice cut through the inferno.
"Was it worth it?"
She remembered what came next.
The slow, sinking horror in her gut.
The bitter, undeniable truth.
She had been wrong.
The Empire, the throne, the secrets she had guarded so fiercely—all of it had been a lie.
Her fingers curled into fists.
"If I had given you the choice before all of this," Zayn's voice was distant thunder, "would you have stood by my side?"
She saw herself hesitate.
She felt the bitter regret gnawing at her soul, deeper than any wound.
"If I had known…"
Her own voice, barely above a whisper.
"I would have followed you."
Her past self closed her eyes, accepting her fate.
Zayn's blade descended—
And everything shattered.
The Present
Elara's body lurched forward.
She barely caught herself, her fingers digging into the table, knuckles white.
Her breath came in short, shallow gasps. Her vision swam, the library flickering in and out of focus like a dream she had just awakened from.
Her fingers were still pressed against the Codex Noctis.
The book was alive beneath her touch, its ink pulsing, as if recognizing its lost master.
Elara swallowed hard.
The memories were too fresh. Too real. Too painful.
And yet, across the table, Zayn hadn't noticed.
He sat, composed, watching her with calculated patience, waiting for her reaction—but unaware of the storm raging inside her.
Her heart slammed against her ribs.
She knew the truth now.
This was not a coincidence.
This was a second chance.
Slowly, she lifted her gaze, violet eyes meeting gold.
This time, she would not waste it.
She would not stand against him.
She would not repeat her greatest mistake.
Elara let out a slow, shaky breath.
Then, finally, she smiled.
"Then let's see if you're truly worth following, Prince."
[Elara Harkness has joined your faction!][Faction Intelligence Increased!]