Thunder rolled across the sky like a warning from the heavens. Rain poured in thick sheets, but the storm outside couldn't compare to the one raging inside Aira's soul.
Lucien was unconscious, his body still on the chamber floor, cold to the touch. The cut on his chest hadn't stopped bleeding. Every time she touched him, the blood steamed against her fingers — cursed blood.
"Stay with me," she whispered, pressing her forehead to his.
But he didn't move.
The Seer — cloaked in violet silk, her eyes hidden behind a silver veil — stood in the corner like a ghost. "The Devil's Heir was never meant to love," she said softly. "And you… were never meant to awaken the heart of a curse."
Aira looked up, fury glowing in her silver eyes. "Then why was I brought here? Why me?"
The Seer stepped closer, her voice dropping. "Because the final seal… lies within your soul."
"What does that mean?"
The Seer reached into her sleeve and pulled out a glowing black stone. It pulsed like a heartbeat. "The last seal that can control Lucien — and bind the entire underworld — is inside you. And now… the prophecy is in motion."
Aira staggered back. "No… that can't be."
"You are not just the chosen," the Seer whispered. "You are the key."
Suddenly, Lucien's body arched with a gasp. His eyes flew open — completely black.
"Aira…" His voice was layered — his own and something else. Something ancient and monstrous.
The Seer stepped forward in fear. "It's begun."
"What?" Aira screamed. "What's happening to him?!"
"He's merging… with the Devil."
A blinding pulse of dark energy exploded from Lucien's body, throwing them all across the room. Aira hit the wall hard, pain shooting through her ribs, but she forced herself up.
Lucien floated midair, his hair blown back by unseen wind, his chest glowing with the cursed symbol.
He looked at her — and for a second, it wasn't Lucien.
It was something else.
"Aira…" he growled. "Run."
"I'm not leaving you!"
"You have to — I can't hold it back…"
But before she could reach him, a circle of fire erupted around him, and a crack split across the ground — blood-red and ancient. From the darkness, something began to rise.
A claw. Then another. A massive creature, bound in chains, dragging itself from the underworld.
Aira's scream echoed through the palace.
And then — silence.
The chamber walls crumbled.
Lucien vanished into the seal.
And the last thing Aira heard… was his voice in her mind:
> "Remember me… when the blood moon rises."
Lightning split the sky outside the Devil's Fortress, casting eerie shadows on the chamber walls. Aira sat on the floor, her arms wrapped tightly around Lucien's unconscious body. His skin had gone pale, and the blood from his wound still pulsed in unnatural patterns — not red, but black, thick, and glowing like molten obsidian.
The silence in the room felt wrong. As if the air itself had paused to watch what would happen next.
The Seer stood a few feet away, her violet veil fluttering though there was no wind. Her voice was low and heavy, like it came from another world.
"He's breaking the final seal."
Aira's voice trembled as she looked up. "What seal?"
The Seer's glowing eyes locked onto hers. "The one that binds the Devil's soul to the mortal plane. The one his ancestors spent centuries hiding. That curse was never meant to be undone… unless someone with your blood awakened it."
Aira blinked rapidly, pain and confusion warring in her chest. "This isn't possible. You said I had magic… not that I was cursed."
"You are not cursed, child," the Seer said, walking forward, her feet soundless on the marble. "You are the key. The heir to light. But when light touches darkness… one of them must bend. Or break."
Suddenly, Lucien's body jerked in her arms.
His eyes snapped open.
But they were no longer the crimson-gold that glowed with warmth and danger.
They were pitch black.
"Aira…" he whispered. But it wasn't just his voice. It was layered. Like something was speaking with him — through him.
The temperature dropped.
The fire in the hearth turned blue.
The fortress shook.
Aira tried to hold him, but his body rose from the floor — lifted by unseen magic. The cursed mark on his chest glowed brighter, burning through his shirt like molten fire.
"No… No, Lucien!" Aira shouted, reaching for him.
The Seer grabbed her wrist. "You can't touch him now. He's not fully himself."
"What do I do?!"
"Listen to me, child," the Seer said, her voice turning urgent. "His soul is fighting to stay, but the Devil's essence — the sealed beast — is merging with him. The closer the blood moon comes, the more the curse tightens."
Lucien gasped. His back arched. His scream shattered every mirror in the room.
And then — a circle of ancient symbols burst beneath him, glowing red and gold.
He hovered in the air, spinning slowly as magic swirled around him. Flames danced at his fingertips. His body was no longer entirely human — scales rippled across his skin, and his wings, dark as night, unfolded in full.
Aira couldn't breathe.
She watched the man she loved become something else.
"Lucien!" she cried, tears blurring her vision. "Fight it! Come back to me!"
He turned toward her — and for a moment, his true self shone through the darkness.
"Aira…" he said. "You have to run. It's coming. He's coming."
The floor cracked open.
A deep, gaping fissure tore through the middle of the chamber. From it came the sound of chains dragging… and something snarling from the depths.
"No…" the Seer whispered. "Not yet. He wasn't supposed to rise until the eclipse."
Aira screamed as the claw of a beast emerged from the pit. Red smoke poured into the room. The creature that pulled itself out was like a nightmare made flesh — skeletal, massive, and bound in golden chains that sizzled against its skin.
"The Devil…" the Seer said. "The original Devil is rising."
Aira stood, fists clenched. "If Lucien is the vessel, I'll fight for his soul."
"You may die."
"Then I'll die fighting."
She stepped into the magic circle. Instantly, fire exploded around her. The energy slammed into her chest, nearly knocking her down, but she stood tall.
Lucien turned his head sharply. "No! Get out! I can't protect you — I can't control it!"
Aira reached into her pocket — pulling out the amulet Lucien had once given her. "This holds your soul. I know it does."
The amulet glowed brightly, pulsing in sync with Lucien's heart. Aira stepped closer, holding it up. "I don't care how deep the darkness is. I will find you inside it."
The Devil inside Lucien roared.
Wings of fire burst behind him.
Aira screamed his name again — "LUCIEN!" — and the amulet flared, sending a shockwave that knocked the Seer off her feet.
Lucien froze midair.
The blackness in his eyes flickered.
For one second — just one — he reached toward her.
But then…
A voice, deep and otherworldly, spoke from within him:
> "She is mine now. As are you."
And Lucien vanished.
Vanished — swallowed by the fissure. The magical seal exploded, and the chamber shattered.
Aira collapsed to her knees, stunned.
Gone.
He was gone.
The only sound left was her heartbeat… and the Devil's whisper echoing in the air:
> "Let the blood moon rise."
The silence after Lucien's disappearance was deafening.
Aira knelt on the cold, broken floor of the chamber, surrounded by shattered runes and scorched stone. Her hand still clutched the amulet, its light fading rapidly. Her breath came in shallow, ragged gasps. Not from pain, but from the gaping hole in her chest.
He was gone.
The Devil had taken him.
The Seer slowly rose from the rubble, her veil torn, eyes wide with something Aira had never seen before—fear.
"I warned you," she murmured. "You were both too close to the edge."
Aira's jaw clenched. "Then help me bring him back."
The Seer shook her head, stepping carefully around the cracks in the floor. "I cannot follow the Devil into the Abyss. No living being can—unless…" Her voice trailed off.
"Unless what?" Aira stood, despite the weight of grief anchoring her limbs.
The Seer looked away. "There's one place—one realm—that lies between death and damnation. A crossing point. The Dead Gate."
Aira narrowed her eyes. "Where is it?"
"No map shows its location. Only a blood-tied heir can find it."
Aira looked down at the amulet again. "Then I'll make it show me."
"You don't understand what's waiting there," the Seer whispered. "That place breaks souls. Not just his. Yours too. If you cross, you may never return."
Aira closed her fist over the amulet, drawing strength from its remaining warmth. "I'd rather lose myself trying to save him… than live knowing I didn't."
Suddenly, a strange pulse throbbed beneath her feet. The broken seal on the ground shimmered faintly. Then—movement.
A scrap of cloth fluttered up from the fissure. Black. Torn.
Lucien's.
Aira lunged for it and grabbed it, her hands shaking.
Then a voice, soft and haunting, echoed again—not from the Seer, not from the chamber, but inside her own mind.
> "Aira… find me."
She looked up, eyes blazing with determination.
"I'm coming, Lucien."
The Seer drew a sharp breath. "Then you must leave tonight. At the edge of the cursed forest, when the second bell of midnight tolls, the path will open. But only for a moment."
"I'll be there."
"But Aira," the Seer added gravely, "to enter the Dead Gate, you must offer a piece of yourself. Something irreplaceable. Magic alone will not carry you."
Aira turned slowly, her expression unreadable.
"Then I'll decide what to lose when the time comes."
---
Meanwhile…
In the depths of the Abyss, chains rattled against the black stone.
Lucien lay motionless on an obsidian altar, bound by fire, his eyes still closed—but inside him, a war raged. The Devil's essence coiled tighter around his soul like a serpent of flame.
"You can't have her," Lucien growled within his mind. "You can take me, but not her."
The darkness laughed.
> "You don't get to choose. She awakened me. And in doing so, doomed you both."
The abyss pulsed red.
Lucien screamed as agony flooded him.
But even as he suffered, one thought clung to him.
Her.
Aira.
He had to hold on.
Because he knew—no matter how far he fell…
She was coming.
Aira stood still, her breath uneven, eyes locked on the flickering cloth in her hand—Lucien's. The torn black fabric trembled in her grip, soaked with a warmth that still pulsed faintly with his magic. Her heart clenched. The silence around her was unnatural—dense, pressing in from all sides like the walls of a tomb.
Lucien was trapped somewhere in the Abyss.
And the pull between their fates had never felt stronger.
"I'll save you," she whispered under her breath, her voice trembling but resolute. "I don't care if it breaks every law of nature."
The Seer tilted her head, her eerie gaze scanning Aira like a book only she could read. "Then understand what you're about to do. You'll be walking into a place where time is broken. Souls become whispers. And memories? They'll turn against you."
"I'm not afraid," Aira said coldly. "I've already lived through worse."
The Seer stepped back into the shadows, her staff glowing faintly. "Very well, child of fire and fate. You'll find the Dead Gate at the border of the cursed forest, under the dying moon. But to pass through, you must offer more than magic. You must offer pain—real, raw, and personal."
Aira didn't blink. "What does that mean?"
"You must give up the one thing that binds you to your world."
Aira frowned, but before she could speak, a sudden gust of wind exploded through the ruined temple. Candles extinguished. Symbols carved into the stone floor hissed and glowed red hot before fading into black smoke.
And from that smoke—
A voice called her name again.
> "Aira... don't come."
Lucien's voice.
But this time, it wasn't strong.
It was broken.
Weak.
And not alone.
Another voice, deeper, crueler, echoed behind it.
> "Come to me, Empress of Flame. If you dare."
Aira's spine stiffened.
That voice—smooth like silk, sharp like daggers—belonged to the one creature even the Devil Heir feared.
The first cursed soul. The ancient king of the
Aira's breath caught as the ballroom doors slammed open with a thunderous crack.
All heads turned.
A figure stepped in — cloaked in black, face shadowed, but eyes burning crimson under the chandelier's flicker. His presence sucked the air from the room.
Lucien stiffened beside Aira, his hand instantly brushing the hilt of his blade.
The cloaked man slowly raised a sealed scroll in his gloved hand. "A message for the Devil Heir," he said, his voice echoing like a curse.
Gasps filled the hall. The elders whispered in panic. Even the courtiers backed away.
Lucien stepped forward, his boots cold against the marble. "Who dares interrupt my engagement ceremony?"
But the man chuckled darkly. "This… is not an interruption. This is a revelation."
He tossed the scroll, and it unfurled midair — revealing a blood-stained royal crest that no one had seen in years.
The Crest of the Fallen House of Rievas.
Aira's heart pounded. That name…
Her past screamed.
Lucien caught the scroll mid-air, eyes scanning. His expression shifted from confusion to rage… and then something worse — disbelief.
He turned slowly to face Aira.
"Aira," he said, his voice low, hollow. "Is your mother's name… Calista Rievas?"
The room went dead silent.
Aira's lips trembled. She hadn't heard that name in over a decade. Not since the fire. Not since the night her life turned into a lie.
"Yes," she whispered. "Why?"
The cloaked figure removed his hood.
It was the twin.
The one from the battlefield.
"I warned you," he growled. "You married a Rievas. You married the heir of your sworn enemies."
The scroll slipped from Lucien's fingers.
Gasps echoed. Nobles stumbled back. Accusations ignited like wildfire.
Aira's eyes filled with tears. "Lucien… I didn't know. I swear to you—I didn't—"
Lucien didn't speak.
He just stared at her like she was a stranger.
And then… he turned away.
That single gesture broke her.
She staggered back, almost losing balance.
But before she could say anything, a voice from the shadows whispered loud enough for all to hear:
"She's the daughter of the woman who cursed this kingdom. How long before she finishes what her bloodline started?"
The room turned.
Eyes filled with fear. Disgust. Doubt.
Even Damian lowered his gaze.
Suddenly, a loud scream rang out.
The twin vanished into black smoke.
And behind Aira, the stained-glass window shattered—
A masked assassin leaped into the hall, twin daggers drawn.
Lucien snapped to action.
"AIRA—!"
But it was too late.
The blade slashed toward her—
And everything turned red.