The ancient chamber echoed with stillness. The flames on the torches flickered faintly, as if fearful of burning too loud. In the center stood Lucifer—reborn in the body of a child, but brimming with shadows older than death.
He stared at the cracked stone wall, his golden lashes lowered, breath soft. His small hand brushed against the cold surface, tracing the faded mark of an old sigil—the one Corrine carved in her agony.
"I remember now…" he whispered, his voice almost too quiet to hear. "The day I died."
The elder of the Crimson Order, kneeling behind him, stiffened—but did not dare speak.
Lucifer continued, each word sharp with pain and clarity. "It was never meant to end like that. I came to save her. Corrine."
He looked down at his hand—so small now—remembering when it once crushed kingdoms.
"She was taken. Held by them… tortured for defying their laws, for loving me. I broke their gates. Faced the Elders of the Council myself. I begged. I threatened. I fought."
His voice broke slightly, and the flames shuddered.
"They pretended to surrender. Said they would let her live if I came alone. So I did."
He turned, eyes glowing faintly with sorrow—an emotion none had seen from the devil before.
"It was a trap."
The silence deepened.
"They killed me before her eyes. And then…" he paused, fists clenched, "...they slaughtered our children. One by one. Seven of them. Each more radiant than the last. Corrine screamed until her voice broke."
The flames extinguished with a gust of dark wind.
"She cursed them that day. I felt it—her magic, blackened with rage. It wasn't a prayer. It was a vow."
He looked up at the elder. His childlike face could not mask the fire storming behind his golden gaze.
"She told them, 'You will return. All of you. And so will we. And when that day comes, it won't be forgiveness you'll find—it will be ruin.'"
A beat.
"She was right."
He turned again to the sigil—Corrine's mark, etched in agony and blood.
"She sealed her soul to the earth, so she could return. And now she has… in the body of a child. But her soul…" his voice softened, "her soul is still Corrine."
A low thrum filled the air—magic responding to emotion.
"They thought death would end us. But fate listens when grief is powerful enough. I rose… and so will she. And when the others remember, when the bloodlines converge—"
He paused, closing his eyes.
"The curse of Corrine will awaken. And no Council wall will be high enough to stop it."
-----
In the quiet warmth of the Landon Estate's sitting room, the golden light of the hearth danced on worn bookshelves and velvet drapes. The tension in the room was thick, the air almost too still. Carl stood by the window, arms crossed, while Maika sat beside Caveen, eyes sharp. Elara clung gently to Lysandra's side, her head resting on her mother's lap.
Lysandra took a deep breath and looked up at them all—her expression far away, haunted by memories not of this lifetime, but of the one before.
"I remember," she said softly. "Not everything… but enough."
Everyone turned to her as she continued, "Back then, I was Selene. One of the Originals. I meet Lucifer once. During an escapade for freedom. I was the reckless Selene, I didn't believe in love—not in those days. Especially not from someone like him. He was feared… worshipped… hated. The devil, they called him."
She paused, eyes flickering with old sorrow.
"Then came Corrine."
Caveen tensed, his grip on the armrest tightening slightly.
Lysandra smiled faintly. "The rumors were wild… they whispered that Lucifer had fallen for a witch. We laughed. All of us. We thought it was impossible. He would never allow himself to be tied down—especially not by a woman of the Carello line. She was powerful, yes, but mortal. Fragile."
She looked down at Elara's soft curls.
"But then I saw them together."
Her voice dropped to a whisper.
"The way he looked at her… like the world stopped turning if she was not breathing beside him. Like no one else mattered."
Maika's eyes glistened with unshed emotion, and Carl leaned in slightly, frowning.
"He loved her," Lysandra said firmly. "Deeply. Desperately. It wasn't just lust or madness. It was devotion. The kind that shakes the heavens."
She glanced at Caveen, her voice sharpening.
"And it was because of that love that he died. They lured him out with her. Promised her life in exchange for his surrender. He came alone—he always knew it was a trap. But he didn't care. Not if there was a chance to save Corrine."
A silence fell, thick as mourning.
Maika swallowed hard. "So… the rumors were true."
Lysandra nodded. "Every one of them. The devil—Lucifer—fell in love with a witch. And not just any witch. Corrine Carello. The dark matriarch of her clan. She softened him, not by force… but by love. A love that defied the heavens and cursed the Council that tried to destroy it."
She looked to Elara again, who now stared back at her, almost as if she understood every word.
"And now… that love has returned in flesh and blood."
----
The Landon Manor had settled into an uneasy quiet after Lysandra's revelation. Caveen had taken Elara to rest, his arms protectively around his daughter as if shielding her from the storm the truth had summoned. Carl had retreated to the study, pretending to read through old Council records, though his furrowed brow said otherwise.
Maika remained alone in the sitting room, the fire now crackling low in the hearth, casting long shadows across the floor.
Her fingers curled around a teacup, untouched and now cold.
Corrine...
The name repeated in her mind like a forbidden chant. She had heard the tales—whispers in the archives, scattered fragments in forbidden scrolls—about the dark matriarch who had loved the devil and died watching him torn apart before her eyes. A myth. A warning. A tragedy.
But now, that myth had a face. A heartbeat. A child.
Elara.
Maika closed her eyes, leaning back into the chair, one hand covering her mouth. She could still hear the boy's voice—Lucifer, reborn—when he called Elara by that name: My Corrine.
Her breath caught.
The child had clung to Elara like she was home. And Elara… she hadn't flinched. She had felt it too, hadn't she?
A chill ran down Maika's spine. Not from fear, but from understanding.
The bloodlines are converging. The legends… are no longer legend.
Lucifer had returned. Not as the horned monster preached by temples, but as a boy bearing divine rage behind innocent eyes.
And now Corrine had returned, too. Not as a queen in a crown of bone and fire, but as Elara—her granddaughter. Her descendant.
Maika's hand fell from her mouth. Her eyes, wide with dread and awe, gazed into the fire.
"What is coming will not be war as we know it," she whispered aloud to herself. "This is something older. Something the world buried and prayed to forget."
And now, fate had decided to unearth it.