The night felt heavier than usual.
Seraphina had spent years fighting wars, leading missions, and standing at the front lines of battle. But tonight, as she walked the empty corridors of the Silver Flame stronghold, an unease settled in her chest—one she couldn't shake.
She wasn't afraid of nightmares. She wasn't afraid of war.
But she was afraid of the unknown. And that's what these dreams had become—pieces of a life she didn't remember living, filled with faces she couldn't name.
She clenched her fists and pushed open the doors to the Grand Hall, where the leaders of the Order had gathered.
The room was lit by floating orbs of light, casting shadows over the long stone table. Maps, letters, and weapons were scattered across its surface. A war was brewing—one unlike anything they had faced before.
"We intercepted another report from the eastern border," General Calderon announced, his voice grave. "A demon army is mobilizing."
Murmurs broke out among the assembled warriors. Demons hadn't openly waged war in over a century. Their kind thrived in the shadows, striking only when necessary.
But now? They were moving with purpose.
Seraphina folded her arms. "Who leads them?"
Calderon hesitated. "That's the problem. Their new leader… He's different. Strong. Tactical. Not like the warlords we've fought before."
Seraphina's stomach twisted. "Does he have a name?"
A pause. Then Calderon pushed forward a report. "Raziel."
The moment she heard the name, her entire body went rigid.
A sharp pain pulsed behind her eyes, and suddenly, her vision blurred. The room melted away, replaced by something else entirely.
Flashes of fire. Silver eyes piercing through the darkness. A voice—deep, smooth, familiar—whispering her name.
Seraphina stumbled back, gripping the edge of the table. Lysander, seated at the far end of the room, snapped his gaze to her. If anyone noticed her reaction, they didn't mention it.
"Who is he?" she asked, forcing her voice to remain steady.
"A demon lord," Calderon said. "No one knows where he came from. Only that he rose to power too quickly. And he's coming straight for us."
Seraphina's pulse thundered in her ears. She had never met this Raziel before. She had no reason to react this way.
So why did it feel like she had?
—❖—
Meanwhile, in the Shadowlands
Raziel stood at the highest tower of his fortress, gazing into the distance.
He had waited lifetimes for this moment.
Seraphina was close. He could feel it in his blood, in the magic that tied them together. He had spent years searching, but now that he had found her, the real battle was about to begin.
She didn't remember him.
That would change soon enough.
A soldier approached, kneeling before him. "My lord, the preparations are complete. Shall we proceed?"
Raziel's lips curved into a slow, calculating smile. "Yes."
He turned his gaze back toward the horizon, where the human capital lay.
This time, I will not be too late.
—❖—