Tied by Fate Bound by Time

The next morning felt... different.

Luna Hart had spent most of the night at her desk, the ring Asher had given her resting between her fingers like a living thing. It still pulsed with warmth—soft and steady, like a heartbeat that didn't belong to her.

She hadn't opened the scroll again.

Not because she didn't want to.

But because she was afraid.

Afraid of what more it might show her.

Afraid of who she might have been.

The girl in the vision—the one who stood in fire and cursed the man in chains—had eyes like hers. But they weren't her eyes. They held too much power. Too much grief. Too much certainty.

And the worst part?

That girl hadn't looked cruel.

She'd looked... heartbroken.

---

Across campus, Asher Thorne stood beneath a stream of hot water in the dorm showers, trying to rinse the nightmares from his skin.

It didn't work.

The ring was still warm against his chest—even though he'd taken it off hours ago.

What scared him most wasn't the dreams.

It was how right they felt.

He remembered the fire.

The temple.

The weight of betrayal.

But most of all, he remembered her—Luna—staring at him like she was choosing between duty and love.

And she hadn't chosen him.

At least... not then.

---

They crossed paths again later that day.

Not in the fog.

Not in secret.

In the library.

Of course it had to be the library—the place where everything began.

Luna spotted him first, sitting alone beneath the skylight at one of the long oak tables, surrounded by ancient books. His brow was furrowed, one hand in his hair, the other tapping a pen against a page yellowed with age.

She approached slowly.

"I thought you didn't believe in curses," she said softly.

He didn't flinch. Didn't look up. Just murmured, "I didn't. Until last night."

Luna slipped into the seat across from him.

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

The space between them felt heavy again—but not with tension.

With recognition.

"We've been here before," she said quietly.

His eyes lifted to hers.

"In the vision?"

"No. I mean here. In this room. Together. Not as Luna and Asher."

He studied her face. "You're starting to remember?"

"No. Not exactly. But I feel it. Like the walls remember us."

Asher glanced around the room.

"Funny," he said. "I thought I was losing it for feeling the same thing."

They both smiled—barely, but it was real.

---

He slid one of the books toward her.

"Found something."

She leaned in. The page was covered in sketches—symbols etched into stone, circles within circles, runes that tugged at the edge of recognition.

"Memory tethering," he explained. "A ritual some sects used to bind souls across lifetimes. Either to preserve a curse… or force two people to meet again."

Luna swallowed. "Why would anyone do that?"

He shrugged. "Love. Revenge. Prophecy."

She looked at him. "Which one are we?"

He didn't answer.

But the silence between them said enough.

He turned the page.

"This symbol here—" he pointed "—matches the one on the scroll. It's old. Pre-temple era. But this language?" He tapped the faded glyphs. "It's not from any recorded civilization."

Luna frowned. "You're saying it's not human?"

"I'm saying... it's forgotten."

Or erased, she thought.

But she didn't say it aloud.

Instead, she asked, "So what now? We keep digging? Pretend we're just two students obsessing over a cursed bedtime story?"

Asher leaned forward, his voice lower now. Calmer.

"We don't pretend. But we don't rush either. If this curse was meant to last across a hundred lifetimes… we're not breaking it in one night."

Luna nodded. "One step at a time."

He smiled faintly. "And maybe… less fire this time."

She grinned. "No promises."

---

That night, Luna couldn't sleep.

But not because of fear.

Because of him.

The sound of his voice in the library. The look in his eyes when their hands brushed the same page. The way her name sounded when he wasn't trying to argue.

She stood at her window, watching fog drift like smoke.

And in the silence, something whispered.

A word.

A name.

No—a vow.

Soft. Ancient. Aching.

> "You are the flame that remembers me..."

Her breath caught.

In the drawer, the ring pulsed once—warm.

Far below, in the buried archives beneath the university, a stone slab trembled where no one could see. Dust shifted. Light stirred.

Something was waking.

---

Elsewhere, Asher lay on his back, eyes wide open, staring at the ceiling.

He wasn't sure if he was dreaming yet.

But he saw it anyway.

A figure cloaked in gold.

A hand reaching for his.

A voice whispering—

> "We meet again."

And then—

The flash of a blade.

---

End of Chapter