The air inside the eastern tower pulsed with old magic.
Lucien stood frozen as the masked seer circled him slowly, her voice like silk cut with razors.
"You were not cursed," she said. "You were summoned. Pulled into this world through blood and intent."
Lucien's voice was low. "By who?"
The seer paused.
Then, in one slow movement, she removed her mask.
Lucien staggered back.
"…No."
Her face was familiar — painfully so. Not from this life.
From the alley.
From his death.
The woman who had touched his bleeding chest… and whispered:
"You'll wake in a better place."
"You," he said hoarsely. "You were there when I died. As Riven."
She nodded. "And I brought you here. Into him. Into Lucien."
Lucien backed into the stone wall. "Why? Why me?"
The seer stepped forward, placing a cold hand over his sigil.
"Because you were born with a soul that defies fate. You died a weapon. I brought you back a king."
Lucien's eyes narrowed. "Then why does everyone treat me like a curse?"
"Because kings like you are dangerous."
---
That same hour, Elias stood at the altar of the Flame Temple, reading the prophecy again and again.
The words had shifted overnight.
Now, written in red:
"The Crown shall burn at the hands of the unloved."
Elias whispered, "No… it's not just about who Lucien loves. It's about who he leaves behind."
---
Morning came cold and cruel.
Lucien was summoned to the central court.
He arrived in ceremonial robes, the sigil over his heart exposed — pulsing red beneath translucent fabric.
Kael stood on one side of the dais.
Elias stood on the other.
The Emperor sat above, golden robes sharp as a blade.
"Prince Lucien," he said, voice echoing. "You are a threat bound in beauty. And so, we will bind you fully — or strip you of all magical claim."
Lucien kept his head high. "Meaning?"
The Emperor smiled coldly.
"You will make your choice. Between the two who have touched your soul."
Gasps from the court.
"If you choose, we shall bind your curse through their magic. You will live."
"And if I don't?"
"Then the collar will tighten. And your flame will consume you."
Kael flinched. "This is madness."
Elias stepped forward. "You can't force him—"
"I can," the Emperor said, "and I will."
He turned to Lucien.
"Three days. No more. No less. Choose one. Or lose both."
---
Later, in the rain-drenched garden maze, Lucien sat alone beneath the bloodleaf tree.
He didn't hear footsteps — but he felt him.
Kael.
He didn't speak. Just sat beside him, gaze on the soaked earth.
Lucien didn't look at him.
"I hate you for leaving."
Kael closed his eyes. "I hate myself more for wanting to stay."
A pause.
Lucien turned, eyes wet.
"Do you want me… because of what I am? Or despite it?"
Kael looked at him then — and for once, his guard was down.
"I want you because you're the only thing that's ever made me feel alive."
---
Elsewhere, Elias stood in the Flame Temple, hands shaking as he uncovered a sealed scroll — one only High Priests could see.
It wasn't a prophecy.
It was a contract.
Blood-bound.
Lucien's summoning was ordered… by the Emperor.