Chapter 19:
Aisha traced her fingers along the cracks of the shattered canvas. Amid the broken strokes, a pair of golden eyes still survived—eyes that haunted her in every dream, in every silence.Her hand moved to the scar on her wrist, the one left by the burning glass of the mansion in flames. It was more than a mark: it was a reminder that perhaps her own humanity was beginning to fracture.
—"A love that crushes, that suffocates, that drowns you in nightmares… That cannot be love."
Her voice died in the gloom. Then, a whisper broke the stillness.
—"Aisha, can you come for a moment?" It was Rasen.
She turned slowly. Yet between them rose an invisible shadow, made of memories left unburied: the accident, Steven's disappearance, the blood she could never wash from her hands… and the vision of Rasen lying dead, in that night which refused to end.
—"What is it?" she asked, though she already knew. The scar burned like a warning.
Rasen held an envelope. The seal of the Community gleamed in his fist like a brand of fire.
—"Sanathiel is still alive."
The air caught in her throat. The words weighed like chains, and the scar on her wrist burned down to the bone, as if it longed to split open again.
Flashback: Escape from the mansion
That night of ashes…The fog was lifting, revealing the mansion collapsing in ruins. Steven, battered and with his leg pierced by Risas's claws, dragged Rasen toward the window. Vines of cyclamen—violet flowers out of season—wrapped around them like a venomous trap.
—"Climb! The pollen will kill you in minutes!" Steven shouted, but Rasen was already coughing blood.
From the rubble, Risas emerged, licking his lips.
—"Without Lionel to play with, you two are my dinner!"
His claws sank into Steven's leg, but a thunderous crack stopped him. Arcángel, Risas's serene brother, appeared in the doorway, his nails growing like shards of poisoned crystal.
—"You disobeyed orders, brother," Arcángel said, sinking his claws into Risas's neck. The body crystallized and shattered into a thousand pieces.
Steven seized the chaos to hurl himself through the window, but someone intercepted him: Lionel, his golden hair gleaming, his smile colder than steel.
—"Where do you think you're going, hunter?" He snatched the keys to the truck. "Your friend Rasen is already dead. And you… are still useful."
In the shadows, a woman watched with icy eyes. Her fingers closed around the lunar medallion.
—"I'll keep this little memory," Aisha whispered, hiding it in her pocket.
The present
In the Community's hall, Lionel caressed the cracked lunar medallion that Aisha had secretly delivered to him "for repair."Björn slammed the table, his veins trembling with fury.
—"We must destroy it! It's the only thing that keeps him bound to this world!"
He stood suddenly, his legs shaking, his chair crashing to the floor.
—"How many more times will we gamble with the fate of our own?"
Lionel spun the medallion between his fingers; the fracture mirrored his crooked smile.
—"As many times as it takes."
No one knew: Lionel himself had orchestrated the "accident" that killed Rasen and erased Steven. All so no one would discover that the medallion had never been lost.
Deep in an abyss, Sanathiel opened his eyes. He was not alone. His mother, Zaira, watched him from a mirror of blood.
—"Your daughter will betray you," she whispered. "Just as you betrayed Salomon."
The reflection of Salomon appeared in the glass, his mouth open in a final plea, just before Sanathiel hurled him into the flames.
Sanathiel looked at his hands, where Aisha's reflection flickered like a captive light.
—"She will free me… not condemn me. Because the blood we share will decide my end."
By the lake, the fog thickened around Aisha like a veil. From the shadows, a figure emerged: Sanathiel, the lunar medallion blazing on his chest.
—"Still running, princess of no one?" he whispered, fading like smoke. "But your blood… is already mine."
Aisha stared at her veins: they glowed with an amber fire. The broken medallion called to her, and unknowingly, she answered. She pressed her hand to her chest. Her heart no longer beat in its usual rhythm. It was slower. Deeper. As if another will were whispering inside her blood.
Denying it had changed nothing. Running had never broken the bond. And now she understood: her own blood no longer belonged entirely to her.
For the first time, Aisha realized that what pulsed within her chest… was not wholly human.