Aira drifted in and out of consciousness, suspended in a place that was neither dream nor waking.
There was no pain, only warmth, heavy and pulsing, as though her heart had become a second sun inside her chest. Every time it beat, waves of sensation spread through her body, slow and rhythmic, carrying fragments of memory she did not fully recognize.
A red sky.
A woman screaming her name.
A throne made of shadow and bone.
Her fingers twitched.
Reality crept back in pieces.
She smelled smoke first, old stone, ash, and something metallic lingering in the air. Then she heard breathing. Not her own. Someone else's. Close. Uneven. Controlled only by effort.
"Aira…"
The voice trembled.
Her lashes fluttered open.
She was lying on the cold stone floor of the cathedral ruins, her head resting on something solid and warm. An arm, strong, tense was wrapped protectively around her shoulders. When she tried to move, that arm tightened instantly, as though afraid she might disappear.
Raven.
He hovered above her, his face pale beneath the moonlight filtering through the shattered roof. Blood streaked his jaw and soaked into the collar of his coat, but his crimson eyes were fixed entirely on her, burning with an intensity that stole her breath.
"You're awake," he whispered, disbelief cracking his voice.
Aira swallowed. Her throat felt dry, raw. "I feel… strange."
His hand rose to her cheek, hesitating for a fraction of a second before touching her skin. When he did, he flinched, as though the contact shocked him.
"You almost died," he said quietly.
Fragments of memory surged back all at once—the circle, the light, the pain, the voices calling her Vessel.
Her body tensed. "The Order."
"They're gone," Raven replied. "For now."
Aira pushed herself upright despite his attempt to stop her. The movement sent a ripple of dizziness through her, but beneath it was something else, power. Not wild or burning like before, but coiled. Awake.
She looked down at her hands.
Faint crimson lines traced beneath her skin, glowing softly like embers beneath ash. Symbols, ancient and unfamiliar, marked her wrists, her collarbone, her ribs. They did not hurt. They felt… right.
Her breath caught.
Raven followed her gaze, his expression tightening. "I should have told you sooner."
She looked up at him sharply. "You knew."
"Yes."
"How long?"
"Since the day I met you."
Silence fell between them, thick and suffocating.
The wind moved through the ruins, whispering through broken stone like distant voices mourning something long dead.
"You said I was human," Aira said softly.
"I hoped you were," he replied.
Hope.
The word hurt more than the truth.
She stood slowly, her legs steady despite everything. The ground seemed to respond to her movement, shadows shifting subtly at her feet. Raven noticed. His shoulders tensed, as though he were standing beside something beautiful and terrifying all at once.
"What am I?" she asked.
Raven looked away.
The moonlight caught his profile, sharp and carved with centuries of regret. "You are the Crimson Heart," he said at last. "A living convergence of power created long before my kind walked the earth. You exist to balance forces that were never meant to coexist."
"A weapon," she murmured.
"A crown," he corrected. "And a curse."
Aira hugged herself, trying to ground the whirlwind inside her. "And you?"
"I was created to guard you," he said. "Or to destroy you, if you ever awakened fully."
Her heart skipped.
"That's why you stayed away," she realized. "Why you kept pushing me back."
"Yes."
"And yet you still came when I needed you."
Raven met her gaze again, something raw breaking through his control. "I failed at the one thing I was meant to do."
Footsteps echoed faintly in the distance.
Raven stiffened instantly, stepping in front of her. The shadows rose around him instinctively, bristling like living armor.
"It's all right," Aira said without thinking.
The shadows hesitated.
Then, astonishingly, they receded.
Raven turned slowly. "What did you just do?"
"I don't know," she replied, equally stunned. "I just… felt them. Like they were listening."
His expression darkened. "They shouldn't listen to anyone but me."
Fear stirred not sharp, but deep.
Aira reached out, resting her hand against his chest. She felt his heart hammering beneath her palm, fast and furious.
"I'm still me," she said. "I haven't changed that much."
Raven closed his eyes briefly, as though the touch hurt and healed him all at once. "That's what terrifies me."
They left the cathedral before dawn.
The city felt different now, quieter, heavier, as though it were holding its breath. Streetlights dimmed as Aira passed beneath them. Reflections in dark windows lingered a second too long. The world noticed her.
Raven led her to a hidden safehouse beneath an abandoned train station, warded with sigils older than language. As soon as the doors sealed behind them, his composure cracked.
He braced both hands against the wall, bowing his head.
"I'm losing control," he admitted.
Aira approached him cautiously. "Because of me?"
"Yes."
She hesitated, then wrapped her arms around him from behind.
He went still.
"I'm afraid," she whispered. "But I don't want to face this alone."
Raven's hands curled into fists. Slowly, he turned and pulled her into his chest, holding her as though the world might tear her away if he loosened his grip.
"This path ends in blood," he warned. "In loss."
"Then walk it with me," she replied.
His breath shuddered. "If I do… I won't be able to stop myself from becoming something worse."
Aira lifted her face, meeting his gaze steadily. "Then I'll remind you who you are."
Something ancient shifted in the air between them.
The bond sealed tighter not through ritual, but choice.
Far away, in a chamber carved from obsidian and bone, the Order of the Eclipse knelt before a throne long unused.
"The Crimson Heart has awakened," one intoned.
"And Raven Noctis has chosen her," another added.
A third voice whispered, trembling with awe and fear,
"Then the prophecy has begun."
Above the city, the moon dimmed from crimson to black.
And in the quiet space between heartbeats, Aira felt it clearly for the first time,
Her power was no longer sleeping.
And neither was the war coming for her.