Ash still clung to Lianna's skin, though she'd scrubbed herself raw. No matter how hard she rubbed, the memory of torches and stones—the hatred in the survivors' eyes—wouldn't fade.
She sat curled against the ruined wall of the temple, her knees drawn up, her wrist pressed hard against her chest. The mark pulsed like a second heartbeat, hot, insistent, as if mocking her every attempt to deny it.
She hated it. She hated that she could still feel his voice echoing inside her.
You are mine, as I am yours.
Her breath shook. She wanted to scream at him to leave her alone—but the part of her that still trembled with warmth at his words betrayed her.
Kael stood near the doorway, shadows slithering like restless serpents across the stone floor. His storm-gray eyes never left her, unreadable, unyielding. Auren lingered opposite, silver glow soft, almost fragile as if he bore the weight of something unspoken.
The silence between the three of them stretched taut as a blade.
Finally, Kael broke it. "You should not have spoken his name."
Lianna's head snapped up, fury sparking. "I didn't choose to! He—he was there, he spoke to me first!"
"You answered," Kael said coldly. "Every time you acknowledge him, you feed him. Do you understand? You're building the bridge that will bring him through."
Her hands curled into fists. "Then why won't you tell me who he is? What he is? You and Auren—both of you dance around the truth like I'm some child who can't handle it!"
Auren's voice came quietly, gentle but strained. "Because once you know, you cannot un-know. And the world you think you understand will never feel safe again."
Lianna rose shakily to her feet, trembling with equal parts fear and rage. "It's already not safe! I nearly died in that square, because of this—because of him! Don't you dare tell me ignorance will protect me. Tell me the truth!"
The mark blazed on her wrist, spilling golden light through the ruined temple. Shadows recoiled, Auren's glow flickered brighter. Both men stiffened, caught in the pull of her bond.
Kael's jaw tightened. His stormy eyes locked onto hers with an intensity that stole her breath. "You want the truth? Then see it for yourself."
Before Auren could stop him, Kael extended his hand. Shadows writhed upward, curling around Lianna's wrist, cold as frost. She gasped, but the bond flared, not resisting. The light of her mark met his shadows in a violent spark—and the world split open.
---
The temple dissolved.
Suddenly she stood on the edge of a vast battlefield. Smoke choked the sky, fire scorched the earth. Broken banners littered the ground, their sigils burned beyond recognition.
At the center of it all rose a throne of black stone, jagged and immense, standing defiantly among the ruins.
And upon it sat a man cloaked in flame and shadow.
Eryndor.
Not the soft voice she'd dreamed of, not the golden-eyed protector she'd imagined—but a king wrapped in terrible majesty. His crown gleamed cruelly, his presence made the earth tremble. Armies knelt before him, their eyes empty, their bodies wrapped in dark chains of light.
He lifted his hand—and the battlefield obeyed. Blades clashed, soldiers turned upon their kin, kingdoms fell with a single command.
Lianna staggered back. "No—no, this isn't—"
"This is who he is," Kael's voice thundered from the storm. His form appeared beside her, woven from shadow itself. His storm-gray eyes burned with old fury. "The world remembers him not as savior, but as tyrant. He bent fate until it screamed. He turned bonds into chains. He nearly unmade everything."
Eryndor's gaze turned, golden and piercing. Though she knew it was memory, not reality, Lianna felt his eyes see her.
Her wrist burned violently.
The vision trembled.
Suddenly, the battlefield blurred—armies dissolving, shadows scattering. Another fragment tore through her mind, gentler but no less powerful.
This time, she saw a hall bathed in sunlight. The same throne, but it was not jagged ruin—it was carved from marble, adorned with flowers. Children ran through the aisles, laughter echoing. A king sat at the throne—Eryndor again, but his crown shone softer, his golden eyes bright with warmth. He rose not to command armies, but to kneel before a woman whose wrist glowed like Lianna's own.
His voice echoed in her chest. I burn only for those who seek to chain what should be free. This bond is not my weapon—it is my vow.
Lianna's breath broke. Two visions. Two kings. One crowned in ruin, one crowned in light.
Which was truth?
Her knees buckled. Shadows recoiled, the battlefield dissolving. She crashed back into her body, gasping, the temple walls slamming into reality once more.
Auren was at her side instantly, catching her before she fell. His glow flickered with worry. "Kael, you fool—you forced it on her, she wasn't ready!"
"She demanded truth," Kael snarled. Shadows writhed angrily at his shoulders. "Now she has seen."
Lianna's chest heaved. Her wrist blazed, refusing to dim, her mind torn between tyrant and protector. Her tears stung hot. "Which is real? Tell me—was he a monster, or a king who cared?!"
Kael's silence cut like a blade. His storm-gray eyes stayed hard, merciless.
But Auren's silver gaze softened with sorrow. "Both."
The word fell heavy, final.
Lianna's blood ran cold.
---
The temple shook suddenly. A deep rumble tore through the ground, dust raining from the shattered roof.
Kael whirled toward the doorway, his shadows rising in a frenzy. Auren's glow flared, protective.
Lianna staggered, clutching her burning wrist. The mark pulsed violently, spilling golden fire across the stone.
Outside, the ash-winds screamed louder.
And then—like an echo that rattled bone and soul—the whisper surged.
They cannot cage me forever.
The earth cracked. Shadows writhed like serpents from the fissures. Survivors screamed in the distance.
Kael's storm-gray eyes blazed. "He's waking."
Lianna's heart seized.
Eryndor.
The Forgotten King was stirring.
---