The moon floated high in the ink-dark sky, casting silver veins of light across the mountains that stood like silent guardians. The wind carried the smell of pine and damp earth, but beneath that calm exterior, the world trembled—an invisible storm threatening to erupt.
Liana sat by the ancient stone altar that overlooked the valley. Her fingers, pale and slender, rested against the cold surface. Strange engravings glowed faintly, whispering in a language only she could hear. It was as though the altar itself recognized her… or perhaps it remembered Amara.
Her heart thudded heavily. Amara… me… past or present? The question gnawed at her. Ever since the shadows whispered her forgotten name, her soul had been tangled between two lives. Liana didn't know if she was Liana with Amara's echoes, or Amara reborn with Liana's innocence. Either way, the weight of destiny pressed down on her chest.
Behind her, heavy footsteps approached. She didn't need to look back—she knew that rhythm by heart. Han Jian.
He stood with arms folded, his dark cloak fluttering in the cold wind. His piercing gaze never softened, yet tonight, something in his eyes burned differently. "You shouldn't be out here alone," he said, his voice sharp but low, carrying more concern than scolding.
Liana smiled faintly. "Alone? When the whole mountain whispers to me? Hardly." She ran her hand across the glowing runes. "This place… it feels alive."
Han Jian walked closer, his shadow falling over her. "Alive? Or cursed?" His hand tightened into a fist. "These runes were carved by Amara. You know that."
The name sent a chill through her. The whispers grew louder in her head, like distant echoes of forgotten screams. Yet there was something else beneath them—sorrow, longing, an oath left unfulfilled.
Before she could reply, another presence joined them. Qing Feng, his golden robes bright even under the moonlight, stepped lightly onto the altar steps. His usual smile was absent; instead, his brows were drawn tight. "The altar has awakened. That means the prophecy is close. We can't waste time."
Han Jian shot him a sharp look. "Don't rush her."
Qing Feng met his glare evenly. "And don't shield her too much. Liana isn't a child. If she is truly the vessel of Amara, she must decide what she'll do with it."
Liana's hands trembled. The word "vessel" struck deep. She turned her gaze to the horizon where the stars shone like scattered jewels. Amara, what did you leave behind for me to carry?
The runes pulsed suddenly—brighter, warmer, like a heartbeat beneath stone. Then a sharp crack split the silence. The altar flared with silver fire, and an image unfolded in the air above it—a vision. A battlefield, drenched in blood, where a woman cloaked in black fought against endless shadows. Her face… was Liana's, but her eyes belonged to someone else.
Amara.
The vision burned before vanishing, leaving the air thick with dread.
Liana gasped and fell back, clutching her chest. "It's coming," she whispered. "The shadows… they want to finish what they started."
Han Jian caught her before she collapsed fully, his strong arms steadying her trembling body. His jaw tightened, fury simmering in his eyes. "Let them come. I'll cut them all down before they lay a hand on you."
But Qing Feng's expression was far more troubled. His voice, though calm, carried a weight Liana couldn't ignore. "It won't be that simple. The prophecy speaks of a choice, Liana. Yours. Bride… or key."
The words echoed in her head like thunder. Bride… or key.
Which path would bind her destiny—and which would break it?
---
The night grew colder, as though the world itself recoiled from the prophecy.
Liana sat between Han Jian and Qing Feng, her heart pounding like a war drum. The words refused to leave her mind: Bride or key.
She drew a shaky breath. "What does it mean? Bride… whose bride? Key… to what?"
Qing Feng's lips pressed into a thin line. His golden eyes flickered with knowledge he seemed reluctant to share. "The ancient records spoke of Amara as both—the bride of the immortal king and the key to the eternal gate. Her choice determined whether the world was saved… or destroyed."
Han Jian's face darkened. He turned sharply toward Qing Feng. "You dare twist this into some fairytale about sacrifice? Liana is not Amara. She doesn't have to repeat her mistakes."
But Liana's voice, soft yet steady, cut between them. "And if I do?"
Both men froze. She stared at the runes still glowing faintly on the altar. "What if being Liana and being Amara are not separate things? What if I… am both?"
The silence that followed was heavier than steel chains.
The wind picked up, rustling through the pine forest below. From somewhere deep in the valley came a low, guttural sound—like the growl of something ancient, something waiting. The altar pulsed again, sending out another wave of light. This time, the vision was shorter: a towering gate of obsidian, sealed with chains, and shadows clawing at it from within. The gate rattled, straining against its bonds.
Qing Feng's expression hardened. "The eternal gate. It's weakening. When it opens, the shadow horde will be unleashed. Liana…" He looked at her with both fear and respect. "You are the only one who can decide whether the gate stays sealed or is destroyed. That is the meaning of 'key.'"
"And the bride?" Han Jian growled, his voice thick with anger.
Qing Feng hesitated, but then answered, his tone grave. "To bind herself in blood and soul to one of the immortals. That bond would give her the strength to withstand the shadows. But the price… is her freedom."
Han Jian's hands tightened around Liana's shoulders. His voice dropped to a low, dangerous whisper. "Don't you dare. Don't let anyone bind you like that. I'll protect you myself. You don't need to sell your soul to anyone—not even fate."
But Liana's mind swirled with doubt and fear. Protect? For how long? Against what? The vision of Amara—her eyes filled with both sorrow and fire—haunted her. Amara had fought, yes, but she had also loved. Had her love been her strength… or her downfall?
Her fingers brushed the runes again. They flared brightly, and suddenly, the whispers grew clear. A voice—her voice, but not her own—echoed inside her mind.
"When the moon bleeds, you must choose. Bride, and bind the world with love. Key, and break the chains with fire. But remember, child of my soul… every choice has a cost."
Liana gasped, pulling her hand away. Her breath came in sharp, uneven bursts. The air around them had grown heavy, suffocating. Even Han Jian's strength at her side felt distant compared to the enormity of the decision looming over her.
Qing Feng stepped closer, lowering his voice. "The shadows move faster now. We don't have months. Perhaps not even weeks. The longer you hesitate, the weaker the seal becomes."
Han Jian's eyes blazed. "Enough! She will not be rushed into this. If you want the world saved, then fight alongside me. Stop demanding she sacrifice herself like—"
He bit the rest of the words back, but Liana understood. Like Amara.
The thought made her chest ache. She rose slowly, steadying herself against the altar. "I don't want to be a pawn of fate. But if Amara's fight is now mine… then I won't run."
Both men looked at her, startled by the sudden steel in her voice. She lifted her chin toward the glowing runes. "Bride or key… I'll decide. On my terms."
The altar dimmed, as though respecting her words, but the cold growl from the valley grew louder. Whatever stirred in the darkness had heard her oath.
And it was coming.
---
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If you were in Liana's place, what would you choose—become the Bride and sacrifice your freedom for power, or be the Key and risk destroying everything to save the world?