Some truths do not arrive with thunder.
They fall… softly.
Like a feather on fire.
Anaya hadn't spoken to anyone all day.
She'd skipped classes, ignored texts, and even left her coffee untouched—a tragedy by Mia's standards.
But how could she explain this storm inside her chest?
She wasn't just confused anymore. She was fracturing.
A thousand images haunted her eyes. A battlefield that didn't exist. A man she shouldn't know. A love that echoed in her veins like an unfinished song.
You always die before you remember.
And now, with the book open in her lap and the locket burning slightly against her skin, Anaya had only one thought pulsing through her like blood:
"I need answers. Now."
Evening – Ellington Library Archives
The university library was ancient, but the archives were older still—hidden beneath the west wing in a narrow hallway that smelled of dust, leather, and candlewax.
Anaya slipped inside after hours, the door barely creaking shut behind her. She shouldn't be here. But whatever part of her cared about rules... wasn't in control anymore.
She scanned the room. Tall shelves loomed like silent witnesses. Old tomes whispered in languages she couldn't name.
And then—voice.
"I wondered when you'd come here."
She turned.
Caelum.
Leaning against a shelf like he had been waiting all along.
"You said not to remember yet," she said.
"I said not to die before you do."
She stepped closer. "Then help me live long enough to understand."
He studied her. The library light caught in his eyes—moonlight in human form.
"You've changed."
"I'm remembering."
"That's not the same."
"Then make it the same."
Caelum exhaled slowly, as if he'd been holding his breath for a century. Then he reached into his coat and pulled out something wrapped in velvet.
He handed it to her. "This was yours once."
She unfolded it carefully.
A ring.
Black stone. A carved sigil. A crescent moon cradling a flame.
And as soon as her fingers brushed it—
Pain.
White-hot and sudden. A flash. A scream. A knife.
The vision hit her like lightning. She saw herself—no, a girl like her—falling through a shattered window, blood on her hands, eyes wide with betrayal.
And standing over her—
Caelum.
But his eyes were filled with grief, not malice.
"You killed me," she gasped, pulling back from the ring.
"No," he said, voice thick. "I held you. After they did."
Anaya dropped the ring. Her knees buckled. "What is happening to me?"
He knelt beside her. "You're unraveling the curse, thread by thread."
She shook her head, tears threatening to fall. "Why does it feel like dying?"
"Because dying is how it all began."
Flashback Fragment – Unknown Time, Unknown Place
Anaya stood at the top of a marble staircase, wind rushing through a cathedral of stars. Below, the world burned in silence.
And beside her—Caelum.
He took her hands, eyes wild with fear.
"If we do this, there's no coming back."
"There's nothing left to come back to," she replied.
They kissed—broken, desperate, infinite.
And then—
The sky split open.
Back in the Archives
Anaya gasped, clutching her chest.
Caelum caught her before she fell.
"I'm not ready," she whispered.
"No," he said gently. "But you're awakening anyway."
"Why now?"
"Because the night is close."
She looked up. "The 21st?"
He nodded. "The curse resets at midnight. On that night, in every life."
"And if I haven't remembered everything by then?"
He didn't answer. But his silence was sharp.
She swallowed hard. "Will I die again?"
Caelum closed his eyes.
"Only if I fail to save you... again."
That Night – Dorm Room
Alone again, Anaya stared at the locket in the candlelight.
It felt hotter now. Like something inside was alive. Counting down.
She picked up the ring with shaking hands.
Put it on.
The moment the metal touched her skin, the room dimmed. Time stilled.
A low hum filled the air.
And in the mirror—
She didn't see herself.
She saw a girl in a crown of white fire, eyes glowing with ancient sorrow.
And behind her—Caelum.
But not as a professor.
Not even as a man.
As something older. Winged. Shadowed. Falling from the sky, trying to reach her.
And her voice rang out from across lifetimes:
"Caelum, if I forget again—burn the stars to find me."