Pov: Kaelira
I stared at the empty space where Damian had vanished.
"He's so dramatic," I muttered, flipping the page of Bound to the Duke's Desire with the same curiosity I had when studying new plants.
"I don't see what the big deal is. If people do these things when they're in love, why doesn't anyone just explain them properly?" I frowned at the next line. "Hmm. I need a dictionary for this word…"
Still no Damian. And I was nearly done with the book. But I needed him to explain a lot of these words.
"She ached for his touch…" I read aloud, puzzled. "Where exactly is she aching? Does she need a healer?"
I placed the book down with a sigh and flopped onto my back, staring at the soft pink sky above. A strange ache tugged at my chest—subtle, but growing more frequent. I didn't know why, but every time it happened, my thoughts drifted to her.
My creator.
Even without memories, something inside me mourned her. A hollow space, like an echo of grief that never stopped humming.
"Elira," I whispered, eyes closed.
And then the air changed.
It thickened—buzzing, charged. The temperature dropped. A shiver traced my spine as the world in front of me cracked open, darkness edged in light spiraling outward in jagged lines.
A portal.
Glowing and unstable.
I barely had time to breathe before it pulled me in. The pull was instant—like being caught in a riptide. My feet scraped the ground as I tried to resist, breath stolen from my lungs. Energy crackled across my skin.
The last thing I saw was Damian bursting into the clearing, eyes wide.
"KAELIRA—!"
The portal snapped shut before he could reach me.
I hit the ground hard, a gasp tearing from my lungs as dust and ash rushed in. It clung to the air like a second skin, bitter on my tongue. I coughed, choking on the smell—metallic and rotting.
Decay.
How do I know that smell?
The sky above was gray and unmoving. No breeze. No birdsong. No sound. Everything around me felt… dead.
I stood slowly, bare feet crunching over what looked like shards of glass and bone. The land stretched out like a graveyard, broken and cold.
A stillness settled over the ruins—like even time had forgotten how to move here.
Ahead, a ruin loomed—once grand, now fractured. Scorched columns. A shattered roof. A temple, maybe. Ancient and sacred.
And lost.
Yet… it felt familiar.
I stepped forward hesitantly. Each footstep echoed, swallowed by silence. The closer I came, the heavier the air grew—thick with memory and something deeper. Expectation.
At the threshold, I paused. My chest tightened.
And then the memory hit like a wave.
My name—"Kaelira." Spoken through trembling lips.
Elira.
She was bleeding. Her voice cracked with pain, and her eyes held regret. She said something else—but the memory splintered. Fire. Screaming. The sound of her voice, one final time—
And then silence.
I stumbled back, breath hitching. My knees buckled, but I caught myself on a cracked pillar.
Was that real? Was it mine?
I lowered myself to the ground, trembling. Dust coated my hands. I stared at them, willing them to feel like they belonged to me.
But sitting still… it felt wrong. Like the walls were closing in. Like I was being watched—not by something alive, but by the past itself.
The silence pressed in, heavy and full of ghosts.
I don't remember Elira, but I miss her like I've lost something vital.
I stood again, unsteady, and moved deeper into the temple. It smelled of time—dust, stone, and something older. A pull stirred in my chest—like invisible threads tugging me forward, gentle but insistent.
Then, softly, in my mind:
Blood will awaken truth.
I knelt at the base of a crumbled dais. My fingers hovered over a sharp fragment of stone, the air humming around it. My heart pounded in my throat.
Without hesitation, I pressed my palm against it. Why was I listening to the voice?
Why did it feel like I new it?
Pain bloomed.
Blood welled and spilled.
The ground drank it.
Light flared beneath me. Symbols lit up across the floor and walls—celestial script, pulsing gold. A ring of energy formed around me. The symbols throbbed beneath my feet like a heartbeat not my own. Light flickered like fireflies caught in a storm, illuminating broken carvings along the walls.
"What the—?"
A shimmer sparked into view.
Elira.
Her image flickered like a flame in the wind. She wore flowing robes marked with glowing sigils, her eyes full of sorrow.
"Kaelira," she said, her voice echoing like distant thunder. "I made this message with the last of my essence. I don't have much time… I have to choose what to say carefully."
I held my breath, frozen.
"You must be confused… and I'm sorry. I don't know how long it took for you to see this. I erased your memories for your protection."
Her voice cracked, and the air stilled with it.
"I created you. You were born to be a weapon. A tool to end the gods. But I couldn't go through with it. Even as a weapon, you were so… beautiful. So innocent. You used to bring me wildflowers—even before I taught you their names. You smiled with your whole being. I never saw you as a weapon, not truly. I lost sight of why we started. We thought we were saving the realms."
We?
"I sent you far from here, to a place he couldn't reach. I can't say more—I'm fading. But Kaelira… do not let him find the book. It will be everyone's undoing. You are too powerful. You cannot fall into his hands. If he finds the book, Kaelira—he won't just control you. He'll end everything."
Her image glitched, weakening.
"… I love you, Kaelira. Even if you were born for the worst purpose, you were the best part of me. Be happy. You are loved."
And then she was gone.
Silence fell.
The light around me dimmed, retreating into the stone. My blood still stained the dais.
A weapon.
I stood frozen, blood dripping from my palm, the words echoing inside me.
I was made to kill gods.
I didn't feel like a weapon.
I didn't want to destroy anything.
The temple felt colder now. Emptier. Like even the memory of her was fading.
I wrapped my arms around myself, struggling to breathe. My heart felt heavy. My skin prickled like it didn't belong to me.
"I want to go home," I whispered. "Damian…"
The air shifted again.
A new portal snapped open behind me, chaotic and fraying at the edges. Through the rift, I saw a familiar silhouette—dark hair, glowing eyes, teeth bared in panic.
"Damian!"
I stumbled forward, diving through.
He caught me, arms tightening like a vise around me.
"Shit—Kae?" His voice cracked with relief. "Where were you? Are you hurt?"
"I missed you, D," I mumbled into his chest, burying my face there.
He sank to the ground with me still in his arms. "I missed you too."
The sound of his heartbeat grounded me—steady, real. It reminded me that I was still here. Still Kaelira. Still… something.
He pulled back, frowning as he scanned me. "You look okay. I look like shit, don't I?"
"You look gross," I said, wrinkling my nose.
He smacked me lightly on the head. "I've been jumping planets trying to find you! It wasn't long but I almost had a heart attack. Now start explaining."
So I did. I told him everything—Elira's name, the vision, the temple, the message, the warning.
Damian sat in silence afterward, jaw tight, eyes unreadable. He stared at my hand. The wound had already healed.
"Kae… I think you opened the portal."
I blinked. "I… what?"
"But I didn't do anything," I whispered. "I just… missed her."
Damian's gaze was steady. "Maybe that was enough. "But we need to be sure. That kind of power—it's rare."
If I opened that portal… what else could I do?
I stared at my hands. "How?"
He scratched the back of his neck. "I'll have to look into it."
"D…" I hesitated. "Does anything change now that I know I was created to kill gods?"
He gave me a lopsided shrug. "Explains your insane strength and weird abilities. And your wings. Plus… those symbols you described? That's celestial script. Your creator was probably one of them."
"I'm a celestial?" I asked hopefully.
"Nope. Celestials have white wings. Yours are… darker."
"So I'm not a person. Not really. Just a weapon dressed up like…me."
His tone sharpened. "You're not just anything, Kae. You're unique. You're my family. And if you want answers, we'll find them—together."
When he looked at me, I didn't see fear.
I saw someone ready to fight the world for me.
If I was made to kill gods, why don't I feel dangerous? I like flowers. I like books. I like moonberries and Damian and cuddling wil-o-cubs. That's not a weapon. That's just me.
Later, after we cleaned up and ate moonberries in our usual spot, we lay under the stars. Damian had shifted into his wolf form—warm, solid, comforting.
I looked up at the sky. I had been made to destroy—but I didn't feel like a destroyer.
I felt… curious.
Elira said not to let him find the book.
Damian said the book sounded important. Maybe we'd need a celestial to figure it out.
I wasn't letting him go alone.
If I could open portals, I could go anywhere.
Nythera. Aetheris.
Especially Earth.
I had a lot of questions for humans.
"I know that look, Featherbrain," Damian grumbled beside me.
I giggled, cuddling up to his side.
I was curious again.