Axis of Arisha — When you don't know who you are, anyone can tell you who you should be.
The world outside, beyond the walls of the golden city, smelled of iron and rain. The slopes were coated in dry ice; hail fell upon massive trees, slowly healing, rebirthing. Around them, white flowers bloomed.
"Open your eyes... open them."
She awoke, like the chime of bells.Arisha lay on a bed of cotton sheets. The room around her felt cold, ethereal, like a dream half-remembered. On the ceiling, framed engravings of ancient wars glorified the might of the vampires.
A dull ache pulsed through her wrists. She looked down—old marks remained there, etched like echoes. As if something —or someone— had bound her to a story she didn't recognize.
Before her, Mikhael appeared. Supernatural. Immaculate.He wore a white shawl trimmed in gold and a simple, loose black shirt.Too simple.He always wore silk.
"Good morning, wife," he said with a measured smile, as if the word wasn't a bond, but a shackle.
She didn't answer.She didn't know what to say.She didn't know who she was.
But something in her chest felt wrong.Like a forgotten melody... that still hurt.
"I finally found you," he went on. "I never doubted it for a moment. As I promised, I won't leave your side, my dear Arisha."
He moved softly, sat on the edge of the bed, and gently tucked her long hair behind her ear. His fingers brushed her cheek. He looked into her eyes.
"I missed you, Arisha. We grew up together… I'm glad to see you. Welcome home, my sweet girl."
He embraced her without waiting for permission. His chin rested on her shoulder, sealing off her chance to think.And strangely, she returned the embrace.
"I'm back, Mikhael…"The words came naturally. So naturally, they startled her. A small smile crept onto her lips.And a flicker of fear.
From the mountain peak, Salomon felt it.The blood of Aisha —the true one— pulsed. Alive. But lost.Hidden behind a veil woven from magic, time, and betrayal.
"Your daughter is her father's mirror," he whispered to the wind, "but she has her mother's fire. She never yields. She never bows."
He pressed a hand to his chest."Don't worry. Wherever you are, I'll protect her. I swore it to the White Wolf."
He saw her in a vision—sleeping in hands she should never have known.And he understood:It was time to descend the mountain.
He pulled his navy-blue cloak around him. From the summit, he scanned the horizon, searching for Arisha. Then he leapt from the cliff.Far below, a blind man sounded his trumpet.
In the southern woods, Baco ran.Not from soldiers.Not from laboratories.But from a thought that burned:
What if she didn't remember him anymore?
"Arisha, where are you?" he cried, running.
As he escaped the maze, he found Kai, half-wolf, half-man, shadowing him. Sometimes he growled, sometimes he trembled.
But when he touched the skin of a lost girl in a village, something sparked. A memory not his own.
It was hers.The Nevri's.
"Who is that?" Baco asked, watching Kai collapse.
Kai lifted his head. His eyes gleamed gold.
"She's… alive."
"Arisha," Baco breathed. "I've lost her…"
Kai muttered, exhausted:
"This return nearly killed us. I'm glad to see you again, Baco. But that woman you loved—if she falls into the hands of someone who understands her power, she becomes dangerous. And you know it."
The stones around them trembled. The circle completed.
BOOM.
Both halves joined, revealing a single image:Chains wrapped around a triskele.
Silence pressed down on them.Fear.Ancient and vast.
"The night is about to win..." Baco said, with Sanathiel appearing beside him like a living omen."Let's go."
In the crumbling halls of the ruined castle, on the outskirts of the golden city, Morgana laughed.
She laughed because Mikhael, the master tactician, now slept beside a goddess he dared not touch.
"You know," she whispered, curling her fingers through his hair, "you can lie to her. You can manipulate her. But sooner or later…"
She will remember what you never should have taken.
Mikhael kissed her. With rage.And fear.
"I know," he murmured. "But I'm in no hurry. The best things take time. And when I take her as my wife, that filthy pariah will wish he'd never known my sweet Arisha."
He pulled away, opened a drawer, and handed Morgana a small chest.
"One chance. Attack the golden city. Join the rebels."
"A key?"
"Not just any key. If you succeed… history will change. My beloved Kesha."
She wrapped her arms around him and whispered:
"You only want someone else to bleed for you."
He swept everything from the desk, covering her body with his own.
"You will be the dagger.And Arisha… my shield."
He kissed her with fire.A fire he thought long gone.
Blood remembers.Even when the soul has forgotten.