Moonlight lay cold over the palace gardens, silvering the rose hedges, turning shadows long and hungry. The air carried tension—thick as magic and lies.
Lucien stood at the edge of a reflecting pool, watching his face ripple in the water. His eyes were too ancient tonight, too heavy. The sigil over his heart glowed faintly, pulsing in time with his heartbeat. He could feel the presence behind it, whispering, watching, hungry.
He had left Elias in the Flame Temple, sequestered, trying to decipher sacred runes. Kael had retreated to his war chamber, brooding, restless. Lucien was left alone in the moonlit stillness—alone, except for the thing within him.
A rustle. Footsteps. Flash of steel.
An assassin lunged from the hedges, blade glinting. Lucien barely had time to react. The blade aimed for his throat—but the curse answered first.
The sigil on Lucien's chest flared white-hot. A wave of magic erupted from his body, throwing the assassin backward. The steel shattered, the attacker crumpled to the ground, smoke in his nostrils. Lucien stumbled forward, heart racing, chest burning with power he didn't fully control.
He knelt beside the fallen man—masked, his robes torn.
"Why?" Lucien demanded. His voice, though low, carried magic of its own.
The assassin coughed. Eyes wild. "Order… came from within the palace."
Lucien's blood froze. Someone in his own court had sent a killer into his heart.
He reached out to the man's mask, ripping it away. The face that stared back was not a stranger—it was someone Lucien had seen the night he died as Riven. Someone from those alleyways whose face had haunted his dreams.
"Impossible," Lucien whispered. "You—"
The man coughed, weak but alive. "I have lived between the walls. I was waiting. Sent so you would awaken fully."
The magic surged inside Lucien. The curse—no, the soul within—stirred. It whispered in cold delight: "Youbleed. Youremember."
Lucien shook his head, pain flaring in his chest. "You served them? The Emperor?"
The assassin's lips parted with a weak, bitter smile. "He feared you would remember. So he sent me to break you first."
Lucien clenched his fists. The air trembled. A gust of wind rattled the hedges.
He turned from the assassin and looked up at the palace towers. Somewhere inside, threads of betrayal stretched taut across every corridor.
He helped the man sit up. "Who are you?"
The man coughed, hand pressing to his chest. "They called me—" he gasped. "Riven's brother."
Lucien's heart dropped. A brother from the life he thought he left behind. A brother who had survived, hidden in the shadows of two realms.
"Survived?" Lucien said, voice cracked. "You survived all this time?"
"Yes," the man whispered. "They felt I was useless. So I lived. Watched you. Waited for you to cross back. So I could guide you."
Lucien knelt closer, the sigil flaring brighter in response. "Guide me? Or consume me?"
The brother's eyes—haunted, hardened—met Lucien's. "I don't want your soul, but I know the shadow within you. You are not just the vessel. You contain its will. And I want to help you master it."
A painful tremor ran through Lucien's limbs. The internal voice roared: "Master or be mastered."
Outside the garden, distant voices. Guards. Alarm bells. The palace gates opening. Someone had discovered the attack.
The brother coughed, pain in his eyes. "You must choose quickly. He will try again. And next time… he may not fail."
Lucien looked at the wounded man—his brother, his ghost, his tether to the life that was. He felt betrayal, anger, hope, dread all at once.
He carefully helped him to his feet. "Stay hidden. I'll protect you—for now."
As the brother slipped away into the shadows, Lucien stood alone in the moonlight, chest heaving.
He raised his hand to the sigil.
It pulsed with life.
Not as a curse this time—but as a living being, breathing with him, impatient and aware.
And somewhere in the palace, someone muttered:
"He awakens."
This scene happens shortly after the assassination attempt, when Lucien is finally alone — and the thing inside him decides to speak fully for the first time.
---
Interlude: The Voice Within the Flame
The palace was asleep, but Lucien couldn't rest.
He sat cross-legged on the cold marble floor of his chamber, his robe loose, chest bare, the cursed sigil glowing like an ember in the moonlight.
It pulsed — slow… deliberate… alive.
He took a shaky breath. "You've been watching me. I know it."
The sigil warmed in response. A sudden heat beneath the skin, coiling like a serpent waking from slumber.
And then — a whisper. Not in his ears. In his bones.
"You call me curse… but I was never meant to be chained."
Lucien flinched. "Then what are you?"
The voice was deep, velvet-dark. Male. But layered — as if it had once belonged to many.
"Iam desire unbound. Hunger restrained. I am what your world tried to bury… and what your soul still remembers."
Lucien's breath caught.
He wasn't imagining it. The soul within wasn't just raw magic.
It had consciousness.
It had waited.
"Did you choose me?"
"No." A pause. "But I recognized you."
Lucien's heart pounded. "Recognized me from what?"
"From fire. From grief. From the moment you died and your soul *screamed not for peace… but for purpose."*
Lucien shook his head. "You sound like you want control."
"Iwant fusion. Flesh and flame. Heart and hunger. You and I… we are not separate anymore."
The sigil burned suddenly — not painfully, but possessively. Like a mouth pressed to his skin.
Lucien gasped, shivering. "What do you want from me?"
A pause. Then:
"Let me in."
Lucien's vision blurred. He saw flashes — not memories, but instincts. Hands dipped in golden fire. A kiss that shattered a kingdom. Eyes rimmed in black flame. Desire. Rage. Power.
He dropped to his elbows, sweating. The sigil pulsed again.
"I could protect you," the voice said. "From the Emperor. From Kael. From Elias. From every false leash they tie to your heart."
Lucien gritted his teeth. "And what would I become?"
A beat. Then:
"Free."
---
Lucien sat there long after the voice went quiet, heart racing, skin warm.
Not cursed.
Not chosen.
Becoming.
And from deep in the soul's prison inside him, the voice whispered one last thing:
"When the world burns, I'll make sure you're the only one left untouched."