Seraphina had spent the next few days in the archives, digging through the oldest records. If Raziel had been part of a war that no one spoke of, then the answers wouldn't be in official reports—they'd be hidden in myths, erased histories, and whispers of the forgotten.
And she was right.
Tucked away in a forgotten section of the library, she found it.
A brittle, faded scroll.
The ink had nearly worn away, but the words still carried weight:
"When the silver-eyed demon fell, the heavens wept. The war ended in fire and blood, sealing their fates in a cycle unbroken. He will return, searching for what was lost—"
The rest was too damaged to read.
Seraphina clenched her jaw. He will return? The words sent a shiver down her spine.
She had no doubt now. This was about him.
A sudden, sharp pain pulsed in her palm.
She gasped, stepping back. When she looked down, her skin was glowing—a faint, intricate mark pulsing with silvery light.
She had never seen it before. And yet, it felt familiar.
Her breath came fast. This wasn't coincidence. This wasn't just a story.
This was real.
And if she had the mark…
Then she was part of it.
—❖—
That night, she couldn't shake the feeling that she was being watched.
The flames in her chamber flickered unnaturally, shadows twisting in ways they shouldn't. The air felt heavy, charged with something unseen.
Then, just as she reached for her sword—
A whisper brushed against her mind.
"You're remembering."
Seraphina's pulse hammered.
"Who are you to me?" she demanded.
A pause. Then, the same voice—low, dark, too intimate.
"You were everything."
Her heart stopped.
And then—
The presence vanished.
Leaving behind nothing but the sound of her own rapid breathing.
Seraphina gritted her teeth, pressing a hand to her chest to steady herself.
She needed to find Raziel.
But more than that—she needed to know who she had been.
—❖—