The infirmary was dim, quiet, and thick with the scent of herbs and burning sigils. Seraphina opened her eyes slowly, wincing as a sharp pulse throbbed behind her temples. The last thing she remembered was the searing heat of the mark… and the vision of Darian, chained and broken. Her gaze fluttered to the side—Mason sat beside her, eyes red-rimmed with worry.
"You're awake," he whispered, gripping her hand tightly.
Ariella stood at the foot of the bed, arms crossed but concern in her eyes. "You've been out for almost a full day."
Seraphina tried to speak, but her throat was dry. Mason gently helped her sip from a cup of water. As she drank, she caught sight of her left wrist—her Soulbond mark shimmered faintly, but it had changed. The soft lavender glow was gone. Now it pulsed a deep crimson-gold, like it was alive.
The head healer entered, expression grave. "This is no ordinary mark anymore. It's trying to connect beyond our realm—through the Rift itself."
Mason's brow furrowed. "Is that even possible?"
"Not supposed to be," the healer muttered. "But it's happening."
Seraphina sat up, ignoring the ache in her bones. "I saw Darian," she said quietly. "In the Rift. He was chained… and someone else was there. A masked figure."
At the mention of the mask, Ariella stiffened. "Was the mask carved like obsidian? With silver threads running through it?"
Seraphina nodded slowly.
Ariella cursed under her breath. "The Old Order."
"The what?"
Mason stood. "A group of exiled Soulbinders who believed Soulbonds were meant to be controlled and weaponized. They used forbidden magic to manipulate the bonds and opened gateways into the Rift… until the Council wiped them out. Or so we thought."
Seraphina's heart thudded. "Then he's one of them. And he has Darian."
Ariella knelt beside her. "Sera, if that's true, this goes beyond just breaking the rules. This is war brewing in silence."
Before Seraphina could respond, a loud knock shook the room.
"The Council summons you," a voice barked from behind the door.
Seraphina stood before the Council chamber, her mark hidden beneath the sleeve of her robe. High Chancellor Velra watched her with a cold, unreadable stare.
"You trespassed into the restricted archives, collapsed a seal, and activated a Rift-linked vision," Velra stated. "Explain."
Seraphina met her gaze. "I was following a lead. Someone I'm bonded to—he's trapped beyond the Rift."
"Lies," Velra snapped. "No one has crossed the Rift since the Cataclysm. This is dangerous idealism. Your recklessness could awaken ancient horrors."
"She's telling the truth," Mason said from beside her, his voice sharp.
Velra glared at him. "Then you'll both share the punishment. One more step out of line, and you'll be exiled from the academy. Or worse."
Seraphina clenched her jaw, nodding stiffly. But in her heart, fire brewed. She wasn't going to stop. Not when Darian needed her.
That night, in the quiet of Mason's dorm, Seraphina ran her fingers across the old leather book again. Her fingers slipped into the back cover—and found a folded parchment.
A letter. Old. Ink faded.
She opened it, hands trembling. It was written in flowing script—her mother's.
> "If you are reading this, it means the mark has awakened. It means you are seeing him—like I once did. The masked man is not a dream. He is real. He offered me power. I refused. But not before I glimpsed the truth: the Rift does not bind… it chooses. And one day, someone will walk into it and survive. If it's you—find him."
Tears blurred Seraphina's vision.
"She knew," she whispered. "She went into the Rift."
Mason exhaled slowly. "Then this is fate."
He placed the decoded sigil in front of her. "It's a locator. It can trace a Soulbond's essence—even across dimensions. But it needs blood from the bonded… your blood."
Seraphina didn't hesitate. "Do it."
They lit the runes. The circle glowed, casting the room in red and gold. Seraphina knelt in the center, her palm sliced gently. Blood dripped into the carved sigil.
The mark on her wrist began to burn.
"Mason—!" she gasped as the light around her turned blinding.
Cracks of magic shot across the floor. The wind howled. Ariella, standing by the window, yelled something—but Seraphina couldn't hear. Her mark was alive, the pain unbearable.
Then—
A tear split the air before her.
A glowing portal opened.
Seraphina reached forward—
But a cold presence stopped her.
From behind her, a voice whispered into her ear.
> "You shouldn't have found me."
She turned—and her scream caught in her throat.
The masked figure stood in the shadows of the portal, his silver-threaded mask glinting, his eyes like voids.
And in his hand—
He held Darian's Soulbond mark, ripped and flickering like a dying flame.
Seraphina stumbled back, heart hammering, breath caught in her throat.
The masked figure stepped fully through the tear in the air—cloaked in darkness, his aura like an eclipse devouring the light. The crimson portal behind him pulsed violently before sealing shut with a hiss, cutting off all sound from the Rift.
"Who… who are you?" Seraphina asked, her voice trembling but steady enough to be heard.
He tilted his head slightly, his voice a haunting murmur. "You already know. You've seen me in your dreams… in the boy's memories."
Her gaze dropped to the flickering mark he held—a glowing fragment that pulsed faintly with Darian's essence. Her mark ached in response, like it recognized what had been stolen from it.
Mason stepped in front of her, shielding her with his arm. "Let him go. You don't belong here."
The masked man chuckled, low and menacing. "Neither do you, little second-born. Always chasing shadows to protect her. But you can't stop what's coming."
Ariella surged forward, a blade of wind swirling in her hand. "Step away from her or I'll make you regret ever crossing into our world."
He ignored her threat.
"You think this is about one boy?" he said softly, raising Darian's fractured mark. "This bond is a key. The first thread in unraveling everything this realm hides from you. Your council has lied. The Rift is no prison—it's a throne. And soon…"
He crushed the mark between his fingers.
"No—!" Seraphina screamed, surging forward.
But Mason grabbed her before she could reach him, holding her tightly as the masked man vanished into smoke and silence, the space where he stood warping briefly before fading into stillness.
For a moment, no one moved.
Seraphina's knees buckled, and Mason caught her just before she hit the floor.
"Darian," she whispered, her voice cracking. "I felt him vanish."
Ariella knelt beside her, eyes wide with horror. "That wasn't just some rebel. That was a realm-walker. A Riftforged."
Mason's face darkened. "Then we were never prepared for this."
A dull throb radiated from Seraphina's wrist. She looked down—and gasped.
The mark was changing again. But this time, it wasn't crimson.
It was splitting.
One half burned a deep violet… the other, a dangerous black.
Later that night, the three sat in silence inside Mason's quarters, the air heavy with fear and questions.
"He didn't kill me," Seraphina whispered. "He could have… but he didn't. He wanted me to see. To feel it."
Mason sat across from her, eyes still wide with worry. "Why steal Darian's Soulbond signature and not kill him?"
Ariella's eyes narrowed. "Because he's not done. He's not trying to sever your bond… he's trying to control it."
Mason stiffened. "Control a Soulbond? That's impossible."
"Not for someone Riftforged," Ariella said grimly. "They feed off imbalance. They forge new rules where there are none. If he controls the bond—he can bend Seraphina's will through it. And worse… use Darian as a weapon against her."
Seraphina looked at the half-split mark again. Part of it shimmered faintly—connected. The other half flickered dangerously.
"We have to find Darian before the darkness consumes that bond completely," she said.
Mason rose. "Then we break the rules again. We find the second Rift mirror—the one the Council sealed under the Eastern Tower."
Ariella nodded, drawing her blade. "And this time… we go through it together."
---
As they prepared to move, Seraphina took one last look at her mark.
> And in the silence, she heard Darian's voice. Weak. But real.
> "Don't give up on me."
She gripped her chest as her heart pounded, tears pooling in her eyes.
"I won't," she whispered.
But even as the promise left her lips, her mark sparked—and a black flame ignited at its edge.
The darkness… was already spreading.
Seraphina staggered back, gripping her wrist as the black flame snaked along her mark like a living thing. It didn't burn her skin—it burned her soul.
Mason was by her side in an instant. "Seraphina!"
She dropped to her knees, jaw clenched, every nerve in her body alight with chaos. She couldn't scream. Couldn't cry. The pain was beyond sound. It was as if something foreign was crawling inside her magic, stitching itself into her spirit.
Ariella reached out, wind gathering in her palm, trying to suppress the flame. But the moment her power touched Seraphina, she was thrown back with a sharp gasp.
"It's reacting," Ariella choked out. "To my power. It's warded—cursed."
Mason knelt in front of Seraphina, eyes locked on hers. "Look at me. You can fight it. Whatever it is, it's feeding off fear. Don't give it what it wants."
Tears streamed down Seraphina's cheeks, but she nodded. She closed her eyes and reached inward, into the center of her Soulbond—the place where Darian's presence once rested like a warm light.
But now… it was dark. Flickering.
She found a thread. Thin. Weak. Darian.
She grabbed it mentally, clutching it like a lifeline, and pulled.
> "I'm here," she whispered in her mind. "You're not alone."
Suddenly, the flame on her mark sputtered—and then extinguished, leaving behind scorched, darkened edges on the once-glowing bond.
Seraphina collapsed into Mason's arms.
Ariella ran to her side. "The flame's gone… but it left a scar. The mark—it's altered now. It's been… corrupted."
Mason held Seraphina tightly, brushing strands of hair from her face. "We need answers. Fast."
Seraphina's voice was hoarse. "That man… he didn't just steal Darian's essence. He anchored part of his magic to my bond."
Ariella's eyes narrowed. "Which means… he's still linked to you."
A beat of silence passed between them as realization set in.
"He can track you," Mason muttered. "Anywhere."
"And worse," Seraphina said weakly, "he can listen."
Just then, the torches around the room snuffed out, plunging them into unnatural darkness.
A chill swept across the room, and from the shadows, a voice slithered in like poison.
> "You're stronger than I expected, Seraphina. But no matter. Soon, you'll beg to finish what we've started."
The voice echoed—familiar. Cold. The masked man.
Ariella whipped around, summoning light magic to ignite a globe of illumination. But there was no one there.
Just the faint scent of ash… and roses.
Seraphina's lips parted. "He's not trying to kill me… he's trying to bond with me."
Ariella's blood ran cold.
Mason's jaw clenched. "A forced bond? That's forbidden magic—ancient. Twisted."
Seraphina looked up at both of them, her eyes burning with determination through the tears.
"Then we need to find Darian before he completes it. Before he turns me into his conduit."
She stood, shakily, the mark still smoldering like a warning.
"I won't lose him… and I won't lose myself."
---
As they hurried to the Eastern Tower, unaware of the presence that watched from beyond the veil of the Rift…
A pair of obsidian eyes opened in the dark.
And far away, chained inside a prison not bound by walls, Darian opened his eyes, his expression hollow, his voice a whisper—
> "Seraphina… he's inside me."
Seraphina stood, her legs trembling beneath her, her hand over the still-scorched mark. The eerie silence that followed Darian's whispered cry left the room cold, despite the flickering torches Ariella re-lit with shaking fingers.
"I heard him," Seraphina whispered. "He's alive… but barely."
Ariella's breath caught. "He spoke to you?"
Seraphina nodded slowly. "He's trapped. And he's fighting… but he's alone. Alone in a place without time, without light. I could feel it."
She turned away from Mason and Ariella, walking slowly to the arched window, staring into the Rift's bruised sky beyond the horizon.
> "He said… 'he's inside me.'"
Her voice broke on the last word.
Mason moved toward her, but Seraphina flinched back.
"No. Don't—don't touch me. I don't know what this is anymore. What's mine and what's his." Her hand trembled as she pressed it to her chest. "Darian's soul is being devoured, piece by piece, and every second I breathe, he loses more of himself."
Her knees buckled again, but this time she didn't fall. She forced herself to stand.
"Why did the bond choose me, Mason?" she whispered. "Why me, if I was going to be too late to protect him? He was everything good I'd ever known… the first warmth after years of ice. He saw me when I was invisible. And now he's—he's somewhere beyond this realm, suffering alone because I failed."
Mason's throat worked as he tried to speak, but nothing came out.
Ariella's voice cracked the silence, gentle and steady. "You didn't fail him, Sera. This isn't the end."
But Seraphina laughed, broken and wet with tears. "It's already ending, Ariella. I feel it. The bond… it's fading."
The mark on her wrist shimmered darkly, a painful echo of the vibrant gold it once held. She lifted her arm and watched as thin, golden threads of the bond unraveled into the air like silk in fire.
> "It's dying."
> "He's dying."
She stumbled forward again, this time toward the center of the room where Darian's cloak—left behind from the last portal—still lay folded. She fell to her knees and pulled it to her chest, burying her face into it. The scent of him—cedarwood, lightning, and the faintest trace of the stars—still clung to the fabric.
And she broke.
Not like glass, but like a dam that had held for too long. A sound tore from her throat, raw and ugly and too human to be anything but grief. Mason turned away, his eyes glistening. Ariella bowed her head, her shoulders shaking.
"I was supposed to protect him," Seraphina sobbed, "and now… I don't even know if he remembers me."
> "What if he forgets?"
> "What if… when I find him, he's already gone?"
She clutched the cloak tighter, nails digging into the fabric, blood on her fingertips.
"Do you know what it's like," she whispered, "to feel your soulmate slipping through your fingers—and you can't even hold them one last time?"
The silence that followed was too vast.
Then—faintly—her mark pulsed.
Just once.
Golden. Fragile.
Like a heartbeat.
Seraphina gasped, clutching her wrist.
> A whisper.
> A whisper only she could hear.
"Don't forget me."
Her heart nearly stopped. "Darian?" she choked out.
But then came a second voice. Not his.
A shadowy laugh. Ancient. Twisted.
> "Oh, he won't forget you, Seraphina… because when I wear his skin and speak in his voice, you'll never know the difference."
And with that, her mark flared black once more.
Mason rushed to her side, but she was frozen. Pale.
Ariella's hands hovered helplessly, trying to draw the curse away.
But it was done.
The bond had been breached.
And somewhere across realms, in a place not even time dared touch—
Darian's body stood.
Eyes open.
But no longer his.
The masked man smiled through his lips.
And spoke with Darian's voice.
> "Let's bring her home."
Author's Note:
Wow... what a ride this chapter was.
What do you think will happen next? Comment below!
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— TwistyPlot