First-Person: Nyra
By dawn, the forest feels different. Still haunted, but quieter. The kind of quiet that follows after something has already broken.
Kael walks ahead of me, silent except for the crunch of leaves under his boots. The bond between us has dimmed, but I can still sense the echo of last night. Every breath feels heavier, every glance loaded with what we both aren't saying.
We've been walking for hours when he finally speaks. "The ruins should be close."
"What ruins?"
"The Order of the Veil," he says. "They were the last ones who studied the Blood Marked before they were erased."
"Erased?"
"Purged," he corrects, his tone clipped. "By kings and priests who feared what they couldn't control."
We step into a clearing, and I see the remains of what once might have been a temple. Massive stone pillars rise from the earth like bones, twisted with roots and vines. A faint red shimmer clings to the carvings, as if the stone itself remembers the power it once held.
Kael stops at the base of a broken archway and runs his hand along the symbols. "They called it the Covenant of Flame," he murmurs. "A pact forged between two souls — one light, one dark — to balance creation itself."
I frown. "Balance? It doesn't feel balanced."
He gives a small, bitter laugh. "It never was. The legend says the first pair who carried the mark tried to harness the bond's full power. They burned half a kingdom before they realized it couldn't be controlled."
"And what happened to them?"
"They vanished," he says softly. "Some say their souls fused into the mark itself. Others say the gods scattered their ashes across the world to keep their power from ever reuniting."
I trace the carvings, following the lines of light. The language isn't one I recognize, but the symbols hum under my fingertips. "It's reacting."
Kael stiffens. "To you?"
"To both of us."
The air thickens. The carvings ignite in crimson light, spilling across the stone like veins awakening after centuries of sleep. The mark on my ribs burns in response. Kael's does too.
Then a voice — faint, echoing, ancient — ripples through the ruins.
Two marked. One curse reborn.
The words aren't spoken aloud, but they're clear. The ground trembles. Shadows spill from the cracks in the temple floor, forming shapes that whisper and twist.
Kael reaches for me, his hand steady despite the fear in his eyes. "We need to leave. Now."
The shadows move faster. One lunges, its form like smoke and bone. Kael draws his blade, the metal catching fire where it meets the creature's touch.
I feel the mark pulling again, power rising unbidden. The world narrows to sound and heat and the steady rhythm of our hearts — one, two, one, two — until I release it.
Light bursts through the ruins, searing the shadows away. The voice fades with them, leaving only silence.
Kael lowers his sword slowly, his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths. "The bond woke something here."
I nod, still shaking. "Then we just learned what we're bound to."
He meets my gaze, and for the first time, I see real fear in his eyes. "No. We learned what's bound to us."