The eclipse crept across the sky like a blood-soaked veil. The clearing had never felt colder, despite the firelight circling the etched runes. Aira stood at the center of it all, bare feet planted on soil carved with ancient symbols, the earth humming beneath her like a breathing, living thing. The moon above pulsed red, casting eerie shadows that flickered like spirits watching in silence.
Kael stood on one side of the ceremonial ring, his dark eyes fixed on her with quiet intensity. Power radiated off him in waves, his aura shimmering like heat haze. Sareth was opposite him, expression unreadable, though his hands burned faintly with restrained fire. Both men had their roles in the ritual. Both carried parts of her past, even if they themselves didn't know the full truth.
Her heart thundered in her chest. Not from fear—but anticipation. The ritual wasn't just a ceremony. It was a test. A portal. A convergence of timelines.
"Are you sure about this?" Kael's voice cut through the silence like a blade. Low. Intimate. Protective.
Aira nodded slowly. "I need to know who I was. What I am."
Sareth stepped forward, his gaze flickering with both fire and warning. "If you're in there longer than fifteen minutes, Aira, you could be lost. Forever."
"I know the risk," she whispered. Her breath fogged in the cold air. "But I can't keep living half-alive—haunted by memories that aren't mine."
Kael's jaw tightened. "Then we begin. But no matter what you see, you must hold on to yourself. Do you understand?"
She gave a shaky nod.
Together, the three stepped into position. Kael and Sareth chanted in a forgotten tongue. The symbols around Aira lit up in fiery gold and cold silver, ancient energies awakening from slumber. Aira inhaled deeply—and as she exhaled, the light flared.
Time shattered.
She screamed.
Not from pain—but from the sheer force of it. The moment the ritual activated, it was as if her soul was yanked through the layers of time. One second she was in the forest clearing, the next she was plummeting through centuries.
Flashes of a thousand lives struck her.
She saw herself kneeling in golden armor, crowned as a queen. Another vision—she was cloaked in blood and feathers, chanting over a dying man in a sacred cave. She saw her hands strangling a lover. She saw herself burning. Falling. Flying. Dying. Always dying. Again and again.
Aira screamed, reaching for something to anchor her. But the voices of Kael and Sareth were fading.
Then—clarity.
She found herself in a grand hall. Marble pillars, tall windows, and a scent of sandalwood and ash. She stood in a gown of midnight blue, heavy with embroidery. Before her stood a man.
Not Kael. Not Sareth.
His eyes were silver, sharp like moonlight over water. Hair as black as ravens' wings. And when he smiled, her heart cracked open like a fault line.
"You still don't remember me, do you?" he said softly.
Her lips parted. "Who are you?"
He stepped forward. "You once gave your life to save mine. And then, you forgot me."
"That's not possible."
He reached out—and took her hand.
The moment their skin touched, another wave of visions hit her.
She saw them—herself and this man—laughing in the rain, holding hands beneath a tree older than time. A wedding beneath falling stars. A betrayal. Her blood on his hands. His tears over her corpse.
And then—silence.
He pulled away.
"My name is Eiran. And the ritual has brought me back."
Her knees buckled.
Just before she fell, the world snapped back. She was once again in the clearing, gasping for breath, on her hands and knees. Kael was by her side instantly, shouting something she couldn't hear. Sareth knelt opposite, his hand on her shoulder, magic seeping into her skin to keep her grounded.
But Aira couldn't speak.
Because one name rang in her head like a war drum:
Eiran.
And somehow, she knew—this was only the beginning.