The echo of laughter coiled through the ancient halls like smoke—low, mocking, and aware.
Selene froze, her hand still gripping the edge of the tome, the ink on the page shifting as though it too were alive. "Did you hear that?" she asked, voice barely a breath.
Kieran was already moving. His body angled slightly in front of her, eyes scanning the shadowed aisles of the Obsidian Archives. "It's not an echo. It's a presence."
Selene slammed the book shut, and the air in the chamber dropped ten degrees. The candles around the room flickered violently before extinguishing all at once, leaving them in heavy silence and darkness.
Then came the voice.
Soft. Slithering. Inside their minds, not through their ears.
"You seek the truth, and yet you carry it beneath your skin."
Selene's mark burned hot on her wrist. Kieran tensed beside her, the runes on his arms glowing like molten ash.
"Who's there?" Kieran demanded, voice sharp, hand already reaching for the dagger sheathed at his back.
The shadows around them swirled, gathering into a single form. Not quite solid—more smoke and thought than flesh. Its face was ever-changing: eyes too many, mouths that whispered and vanished.
"I am the memory of the bond you wear. The seed planted before your first breath."
Selene swallowed hard, her voice trembling despite herself. "What are you?"
"I am what is left of the first obsession."
The figure drifted closer, and the walls of the Archives seemed to bend inward. The creature was ancient. Older than the city. Older than prophecy.
"You think love is a chain of hearts. But your bond was forged in defiance—fire that consumes and shadow that corrupts. You were never meant for peace."
Kieran stepped forward. "Then what were we meant for?"
The creature's form twisted into a smile that wasn't quite a smile.
"To bring about the unraveling. The fall of bloodlines. The destruction of oaths made under false stars."
Selene felt her heart thunder. "You created this bond between us?"
"No," it whispered, "you did. The moment you touched what was forbidden. You chose each other… and that choice woke me."
Kieran's voice darkened. "If this is some curse—undo it."
The creature's laughter was cold.
"You think I am your jailer? I am your reward."
And just like that, it vanished, the air snapping back into stillness.
The candles relit themselves one by one, as if nothing had happened. But everything had changed.
Selene clutched her wrist. The mark was no longer just glowing—it was spreading, slowly crawling up her arm like ivy made of fire and ink.
Kieran's expression was hard, unreadable. "We need to leave."
Selene nodded, still dazed. "Where to?"
His voice was steady, but his eyes betrayed the storm within. "To the Elder Circle. If anyone knows how to stop this… it's them."
But deep in her bones, Selene already knew.
This wasn't something that could be stopped.
Only unleashed.
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