The room Elias had chosen was ancient, forgotten — hidden beneath the collapsed wing of the old temple. Its walls were marked with sigils long outlawed, and in the center, carved into obsidian floorstone, was a circle of velvet threads and bone fragments — remnants of a ritual so old, even the gods had buried its name.
Lucien stepped into the chamber slowly, Kael close behind.
"Are you sure this is safe?" Kael asked, hand resting on the hilt of his sword.
"No," Elias said plainly. "But truth rarely is."
He unrolled a scroll onto the stone altar, revealing blood-red ink and a seal he'd broken only hours ago.
Lucien's eyes flicked to the heading.
"The Velvet Binding."
His breath caught.
"That's the ritual that cursed me, isn't it?"
Elias nodded. "Yes. But it's more than a curse. It was designed not just to trap your soul—but to fracture it. Into love. Into betrayal. Into memory and magic."
He pointed to three glyphs: heart, crown, and mirror.
"They used Azrael. Not just as a pawn, but as a conduit. The Emperor forged your bond with him into the key that keeps you bound. Every time you reincarnate, it activates again."
Lucien's hand trembled as he reached toward the glyph for mirror. "So that's why I feel like I'm watching myself live."
"You are," Elias said softly. "Because parts of you never left the mirror."
Kael looked at Elias sharply. "And what about the soul inside him?"
Elias hesitated. "That soul… isn't separate anymore. Riven is not a passenger. He is Lucien. The you from before the ritual. The one who was betrayed."
Lucien staggered back, heart pounding.
"I'm… Riven?"
"You're both," Elias said. "But the moment you fully remember who he was, the line will vanish. There will be no Lucien and no Riven—only one."
Lucien pressed a hand to his chest. "So what happens if I remember everything?"
"Then," Elias said, "you'll either be free…"
"…or fall into madness."
—
TheMemory
Lucien stepped into the circle.
The velvet threads curled around his ankles, warm and soft, like a lover's hands. The bones pulsed faintly.
"I'm ready," he said.
Elias bit his thumb, letting blood drip into the circle. Kael gripped his sword tight.
The circle lit.
Lucien's mind tore open.
He wasn't standing anymore.
He was kneeling—in a gilded throne room, years ago. Velvet robes over his shoulders. Long silver hair brushing his collarbone. Crown gleaming in his hands.
And in front of him… Azrael, kneeling too, eyes wide with sorrow.
"Forgive me," Azrael whispered.
Lucien—no, Riven—looked at him with aching tenderness.
"I already have."
"But you must die."
Riven nodded. "I know."
Azrael rose, took the ceremonial dagger from the altar, and pressed it to Riven's chest.
"I love you," he said.
And then—he thrust.
The blade entered Riven's heart as tears slid down Azrael's cheeks.
Lucien gasped—dragged back into the present, panting, shaking, eyes wide.
The pain lingered.
But so did something else.
A memory not just of death…
…but of love, twisted and undone by fate.
—
TheKiss
Lucien stood trembling, caught between time.
"I loved him," he whispered.
Elias stepped closer. "And now?"
"I don't know."
Kael turned away—his silence thick with emotion.
But suddenly, the air shifted.
Lucien's sigil flared, and the soul within surged.
The voice—Riven's—spoke not just in his mind, but through his lips.
"Let me show you what love was… before they poisoned it."
Lucien's body moved—half his, half not—and in that moment, he turned toward Elias.
He kissed him.
It was soft. Warm. A breath stolen from history.
But it wasn't Lucien alone.
It was Riven, remembering what love felt like.
Elias's eyes widened—but he didn't pull away.
Because he felt it too.
The grief.
The fire.
The truth.
When they parted, Lucien stepped back, startled. "I didn't… mean to…"
Elias's lips trembled. "I know. It wasn't just you."
Kael stared in silence—jaw tight, gaze unreadable.
And the circle around them faded to ash.