Chapter 7 – "The Forgotten Letter"💫
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Morning sunlight spilled through Lyra's dorm window, painting her desk gold. Mira hummed beside her, scrolling through her phone, unaware that Lyra's world had shifted overnight.
Her sketchbook sat open — the same one where she had drawn the crimson-eyed woman. Lyra stared at it as if the paper might breathe. She remembered the rooftop, Aiden's words, the moonlight veins she'd seen crawling through the tiles. It hadn't been a dream. It *felt* too real, too alive.
She touched the page.
The paper rippled faintly under her fingertips, like skin.
And then she saw it — faint silver letters appearing across the margin, glowing for only a heartbeat before fading again.
Words she hadn't written.
*"If you can see this, your blood has begun to wake."*
Lyra jerked her hand back. The letters vanished. Mira didn't even look up.
She leaned closer, whispering, "Did you see that?"
"See what?" Mira asked absently.
"The words—on the paper!"
Mira squinted at the sketchbook and frowned. "There's nothing there, Lyra. You've been pulling too many all-nighters."
Lyra forced a laugh, pretending to agree, but inside her heart pounded. She waited until Mira left for class, then reopened the book. The letters shimmered back into view, faint but insistent.
This time, a new line formed beneath the first:
*"Seek the crimson sigil before the eclipse. Or you'll be found instead."*
Her hands trembled. "Found by who?" she whispered.
The answer came as a sudden chill in the air — a soft gust that flicked through the pages, stopping on a rough sketch she didn't remember drawing: a **crest**, shaped like intertwined wings and a blood-red sun.
At that moment, there was a knock.
Lyra's heart leapt. She slammed the sketchbook shut.
Aiden stood at the doorway, his usual calm shadowed by something colder. "You shouldn't be alone when you start seeing things that move," he said quietly, stepping inside. "It means the barrier is thinning."
Lyra stared. "You knew this would happen?"
He nodded once. "Your blood is remembering faster than I expected."
"I found something," she said, voice trembling. "A message… in my sketchbook."
"Show me."
She opened it again — but the page was blank. No silver letters. No crest. Just clean white paper.
"I swear it was there," she murmured.
"I believe you," Aiden said softly, and for a moment, his voice almost broke the fear that clung to her. "That message wasn't meant for human eyes."
"But what does it mean?" she asked.
Aiden hesitated. "It means the ones who killed your mother know you're alive."
Lyra froze. "My… mother?"
He met her eyes, gaze heavy with sorrow. "The Queen of the Crimson Court."
The words hit her like thunder — and before she could breathe, the wind outside shifted, carrying a whisper that made the candles flicker though none were lit.
*"Welcome home, little dawn."*
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Chapter 8 – Shadows in the Mirror🌒
Night fell too quietly.
Lyra sat in front of her mirror, the dorm room dark except for a faint pool of light from her desk lamp. Mira had gone home for the weekend, leaving the silence too heavy, too alive.
Her reflection looked back at her — same messy hair, same faint smile. But there was something *off*. The eyes. They weren't quite hers tonight. In the dim light, they seemed deeper, like there was another gaze behind them… watching her.
She whispered to herself, "You're just tired, Lyra. That's all."
But then — the reflection blinked.
And she hadn't.
Her breath hitched. The reflection tilted its head, just slightly, and its lips moved — silently — a heartbeat before hers followed. A fraction out of sync.
Lyra's heart raced. "Stop," she whispered, voice trembling. "Just stop."
A cold hand brushed her shoulder.
She screamed and spun around — but it was Aiden.
He was standing there, calm as ever, though his eyes flickered with worry. "You saw her, didn't you?" he asked quietly.
"Her?" Lyra stammered. "Who—what—was that?"
"The echo of your other self," Aiden said. "When a pureblood awakens, her reflection remembers before she does. The mirror world recognizes the truth first."
Lyra tried to speak, but her throat felt tight. "That *thing* in the mirror… that's me?"
"It's what you were meant to become," he said softly. "And what your blood still fears."
Something in his tone cracked the ice around her fear. For the first time since this began, Lyra saw something vulnerable in him — not coldness, but sorrow. Like he was protecting her from more than the monsters outside… maybe even from himself.
She whispered, "Aiden… how do you know all this?"
His silence was the longest answer. Then he said, almost reluctantly, "Because I was trained to guard the bloodline. Your bloodline. I swore an oath before your mother fell."
Lyra stared. "You served *my mother*?"
"I was just a boy when she died," he said. "But her last command was clear — 'Find my dawn before the darkness does.'"
He reached into his coat and pulled out something small — an old silver pendant shaped like the same sigil from her sketchbook. "She left this for you."
Lyra's fingers trembled as she took it. The metal pulsed faintly warm, as if it recognized her. For an instant, she saw flickers of fire, battle, and a crown slipping from pale fingers.
Aiden's voice broke the vision. "Your awakening isn't a curse, Lyra. It's a calling. But it comes with enemies who've waited for this moment since the Queen's death."
She looked at him — the calm, steadfast boy who suddenly felt like part of a world she was only beginning to see. "And you? Who are you in all this?"
He smiled faintly, a sad curve of lips that didn't reach his eyes.
"The knight who failed your mother once," he said. "And won't fail her daughter."
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Chapter 9 – The Knight's Oath
Aiden's voice lingered in her thoughts long after he left. *The knight who failed your mother once.*
Lyra turned the silver pendant over in her hand, tracing the sigil — the intertwined wings and the rising sun. It seemed to hum softly, like a heartbeat not her own.
She couldn't sleep.
Something about Aiden's words felt heavier than truth. They carried sorrow that stretched across centuries. The way he looked at her — not as a classmate, not even as a protector, but as if she were a memory made flesh — both comforted and frightened her.
Just before dawn, she found him in the courtyard behind the library, kneeling in the mist. The air was colder than usual, almost expectant. His coat hung open, and for the first time, she saw the faint silver insignia carved onto the black leather beneath — a crest of the Crimson Order.
"Aiden," she said softly. "You shouldn't be here this early."
"I never sleep when the moon's waning," he murmured, not looking up. "It's when we renew our oaths."
"We?"
He raised his head, and suddenly, they weren't alone.
Four figures stepped from the fog — three men and one woman, each cloaked in black and silver. Their presence filled the courtyard with quiet reverence, power coiled beneath discipline.
Aiden stood. "Lyra, these are my knights — my brothers and sister in arms. The Crimson Four."
The tallest, with ash-white hair and piercing eyes, inclined his head. "Sir Rowan," Aiden introduced. "My second. His loyalty runs deeper than his scars."
The woman beside him smiled faintly — sharp, confident. "Seren. Our strategist. She's the only one who ever beats me in combat drills," Aiden added.
The next, a quiet man with golden hair and a prayer chain around his wrist, gave Lyra a small bow. "Lucen," Aiden said softly. "He keeps us sane."
The last was the youngest — dark-haired, restless, with a grin that didn't hide the shadow in his eyes. "Darius," Aiden finished. "Don't believe anything he says."
Lyra managed a shaky smile, murmuring a greeting. Each of them stared at her not with curiosity, but recognition — like they'd seen her before, long ago.
Seren stepped forward and knelt briefly. "Our Queen's daughter," she said, voice low. "It's truly you."
Lyra's throat went dry. "Please… don't. I'm not—"
But Aiden interrupted gently. "She's not ready for titles. Only truth."
Rowan's gaze swept the dark horizon. "Then truth must come quickly. The Eclipse approaches."
The word made Lyra flinch — the same one she'd seen in the message in her sketchbook.
Aiden looked at her, eyes heavy with something like guilt. "When the Eclipse rises, bloodlines awaken. But it also calls those who wish to end them."
"And you think they'll come for me," she said quietly.
"No." Aiden stepped closer, his hand brushing hers for just a heartbeat.
"They'll come for *us*."
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Chapter 10 – The First Mark
The following night, the air felt different — charged, humming, alive with something that made the tiny hairs on Lyra's arms rise. Aiden led her through the old east wing of the campus, a place that had been locked for years. The smell of dust mixed with cold iron.
"You said you wanted to understand what you are," he murmured. "But power doesn't come gently, Lyra. It demands to be recognized."
He pushed open the door to what looked like an abandoned chapel. Candlelight flared to life along the walls in perfect sequence, one after another, though no one had lit them. A circular sigil glowed faintly on the stone floor.
Aiden motioned to the center. "This is the Circle of Recognition. It will test your blood, not your strength. Don't fight it — just *listen*."
Lyra hesitated, then stepped into the circle. The air pressed against her skin, thick with unseen weight.
She heard whispers — faint at first, then growing louder. Voices she couldn't recognize, calling her name in a language she didn't know but somehow understood. *Varelle… my dawn… my bloodline.*
Her vision blurred. The sigil flared crimson beneath her feet, light crawling up her legs like liquid fire.
Aiden stepped forward, ready to intervene, but one of his knights, Lucen, caught his arm. "If you stop her now, she'll never control it," he warned.
Lyra gasped as the light reached her chest. It felt like her heart was being branded from the inside — pain sharp and clean, yet strangely liberating. She looked down to see faint lines etching across her wrist, glowing with the same pattern as the pendant's crest.
Aiden's voice broke through the noise. "Lyra! Focus on my voice. What do you see?"
She closed her eyes. "A woman… her hair like flame, her eyes full of stars. She's smiling — she's—"
The voice from her vision whispered: *Do not fear the mark, my dawn. Fear the ones who bow too easily.*
Lyra's eyes snapped open. The sigil dimmed. The pain receded, leaving her shaking, breathless, but alive. A faint crimson mark shimmered over her heart before fading beneath her skin.
Aiden caught her before she fell. His hands were steady, but his pulse raced beneath his grip. "It's done," he said quietly. "The First Mark has accepted you."
"What does it mean?" she asked weakly.
"That you've claimed your blood," Seren said from behind them. "And that others will sense it. From now on, every creature loyal to the old court will *feel* you awaken."
Before Lyra could respond, a faint sound came from the far corridor — the scrape of boots against stone.
Darius, the youngest knight, vanished into the shadows and reappeared near the doorway. His grin was gone. "Someone else is here."
Lyra's pulse quickened. Aiden drew his blade, eyes narrowing.
From the darkness, a soft voice answered, smooth and amused:
> "I thought I'd finally meet the Queen's little secret."
And when the figure stepped into the candlelight, Lyra froze.
He looked exactly like Aiden — only his smile was darker, his beauty colder.
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