"I... I wanted to..."
A sharp slap awakened the shadows around them.
Silence enveloped the surroundings—like an echo that refused to die.
It wasn't a slap of anger. It wasn't because of the heat of emotion. It was made of deep sorrow.
Seraphina's hand slowly fell.
Her gaze remained on Lucien—no more tears in her eyes, but her voice was drenched in grief.
"Don't you dare say it wasn't you.
I saw your eyes, Lucien. And I watched as you let them kill me—with the same hands you once swore would protect me."
Lucien's shoulders slumped.
As if all the weight was stripped from his body. No more weapons. No more reasons.
Only his guilt remained.
"I tried to stop it. God knows I did. But... I didn't choose the crown, Sera. I was forced into it. I was never meant to lead that bloodline. I-"
"Then why didn't you burn with me?"
The world stopped.
At that moment, the shadows around seemed to look at Lucien too, waiting for an answer that never came before.
Finally, he whispered. Low. Broken.
"Because I thought I'd bring you back...But I didn't know how to save someone already in hell."
Silence prevailed.
A tear fell from Seraphina's eye.
Not for Lucien.
But for the young Seraphina who thought she could be saved by love.
"You let me die thinking I was cursed."
"You weren't just cursed, Sera. You were sacrificed. And I... I was the one who held the knife. Even if I didn't plunge it."
From his cloak, Lucien reached for the black parchment, its sigils shimmering in the darkness.
"The curse needed silence to seal. That was the law. If I spoke your name during the ritual, the fire would've claimed us both. I stayed quiet thinking I could undo it later.
But silence isn't mercy.
It's a death sentence dressed as love."
Seraphina closed her eyes.
She took a breath, but didn't have the courage for an answer.
"They cursed your blood.
But I was the one cursed... with your memory.."
A sharp sound cut through the scene.
They both turned.
Beside them, an antique mirror hung silently on the wall. There were gold engravings on the side, shimmering even in the darkness.
It suddenly rattled.
And in a flash—The pieces flew to the floor, and from between the broken glass a creature crawled out
A silhouette. Black. Burned. Veiled.
Crying. Screaming.
And as it crawled, the surroundings blazed with the weight of the past returning.
"Lucien...Why didn't you save me?"
The creature's eyes were white, as if soulless, but full of anger and questions.
"That's... me." Seraphina whispered, pale and breathless.
Lucien took her hand.
But, it was too late.
The ghost of the past had found them.