Sometimes, we're not haunted by the dead.
We're haunted by those who live in us still…
"You said the fourth thread is in my bloodline," Anaya whispered, tracing the glowing constellation on her wrist.
Caelum nodded. "It's the one you sealed in blood. You can't unlock it with memory. Only with fire."
She blinked. "Fire?"
"Not the element," he said. "The truth you burned to ash… in your first life."
That Night – Her Home
Anaya had never been to the attic.
Her parents said it was filled with broken furniture and old boxes.
But tonight, her feet moved as if possessed.
The pendant on her chest pulsed faintly—guiding her.
Every step up the creaking stairs thickened the air.
With the final creak, she reached the old wooden door.
Inside… dust.
Cobwebs.
Silence.
And then—her gaze locked onto a box.
Not old.
Not forgotten
Just hidden.
Carved with a crescent moon and sun.
Her mark.
She opened it.
A bundle of old letters. A metal seal shaped like a phoenix. And beneath it all…
A book.
No title.
Just the feel of heat, even though it was cold to the touch.
She opened the first page.
To my daughter, Anaya.
If you're reading this, your blood has begun to remember.
Her hands trembled.
It was her mother's handwriting.
Memory Triggered – Through the Book
A younger version of her mother… standing in the same attic.
Crying.
Holding a baby—Anaya.
"They said she carries the soul of the Gatekeeper," she whispered. "They said her name once broke time."
"But if I raise her human… maybe I can save her."
And then—
She tore the final page from the book… and burned it.
Present
The book trembled in Anaya's hands.
The burnt mark on the last page shimmered with runes.
The fourth thread pulsed beneath it.
But it wouldn't come freely.
Blood. That was the cost.
Anaya stepped back, took a deep breath—and bit her finger.
A drop of blood hit the page.
The flames ignited.
Silent. Cold. Ancient.
And from the fire… the fourth thread emerged.
Red-gold. Sharp as a blade.
It didn't wrap around her.
It pierced her chest.
Flashback – First Life
A city built on floating bridges.
Anaya—not Anaya—cloaked in robes of fire.
A throne built from bones of fallen gods.
She stood in judgment.
Her father—a king of soulbinders—kneeling before her.
"You inherited my flame," he said. "But your soul belongs to another realm."
"Then I will burn every throne that tries to claim me."
She raised her hand—
And destroyed his empire.
To save her people.
To save herself.
Present
Anaya collapsed, gasping.
The fourth thread blazed inside her, winding through her ribs like heat seeking truth.
The mark changed again.
Now the crescent moon, rising sun, and constellation had a phoenix burning through them all.
Caelum knelt beside her. "You unlocked it."
She nodded. "It wasn't just my mother. My entire bloodline… was made of flame."
"And now," he whispered, "you carry the fire they tried to silence."
She looked at her hand—her veins glowing.
"I feel like I'm becoming her."
"No," Caelum said. "You are her. But stronger."
Midnight – Outside the House
A new figure watched from the shadows.
Dark robes. A cracked mask. A blade wrapped in black vines.
"The fourth thread is lit," it hissed.
"Call the Final Hunter. If the fifth awakens… she'll remember her name."
And if she did?
She'd become the only soul in all realms capable of undoing the Soul Curse.
Forever.