Tied by Fate Bound by Time

The storm had passed, but the tension hadn't.

Luna Hart was already awake. Not that she'd really slept.

Her apartment smelled like burnt toast and too many candles. She'd lit one for focus, another for clarity, a third for protection—none of them worked. Not even the lavender one with the "energy balancing" label.

Now she sat at the kitchen counter, still in mismatched pajamas, hugging a lukewarm mug of coffee and staring at her phone.

The message from last night still glared back at her:

> "You're awakening. But others are watching. Be careful who you trust."

She'd read it at least twenty times.

The worst part?

It didn't feel like a threat.

It felt like a warning.

---

10:17 AM – Office of Professor Aldren

The university always smelled like dusty paper and older egos.

Asher Reed walked through the halls with his usual polished calm, nodding at two professors he didn't care to remember. He pushed open Professor Aldren's door without knocking.

The old man didn't look up. He was hunched over scrolls, squinting through a magnifying glass.

"I see manners are still optional in this department," Aldren muttered.

"I brought your translation notes," Asher said, dropping a folder on the desk. "And I need to ask you something."

Aldren didn't look up. "Ask."

"As a theory," Asher began casually, "do soul sigils only appear when a vow from a past life is broken?"

That got Aldren's attention.

He slowly removed his glasses, staring at Asher with an expression that said, Careful now.

"They appear," the professor said, "when the universe decides you've ignored a promise too long."

Asher didn't respond.

He didn't need to.

As he turned to go, Aldren added quietly, "If you're seeing them… someone else is, too."

---

12:34 PM – Back on Campus

Luna met her best friend, Casey, outside the greenhouse. The sun had returned, though the wind still carried the storm's memory.

"You look like hell," Casey said cheerfully, handing her a smoothie.

"Thanks," Luna muttered, accepting it. "I've been experimenting with magical insomnia and visions of doom."

Casey grinned. "You and Asher Reed still pretending to hate each other while having dramatic psychic standoffs?"

"There's no pretending. And no standoffs."

"Sure," Casey said. "Just shared dreams, soul glyphs, and cosmic trauma. Totally platonic."

Luna opened her mouth to argue—

—and stopped.

Across the quad, beneath the willow tree, a man was standing. Not a student. Not staff. His coat was dark green, tailored and elegant in a way that didn't belong here. He held a small, leather-bound journal in one gloved hand.

He was watching her.

Their eyes met.

Luna blinked.

He was gone.

"Luna?" Casey asked, following her gaze.

"Do you know that guy?" Luna asked, pointing.

Casey squinted. "Who?"

Luna's stomach turned. "Never mind."

---

2:08 PM – Luna's Apartment

She stood in front of the mirror, the ancient scroll clutched tightly in one hand.

The crescent-star sigil on her wrist had faded. But it hadn't disappeared. Now it shimmered—soft and silver—every time the sunlight touched it.

She flipped open her notebook, scanning the sketches. Three symbols stood out, circled in ink:

The Crescent Star

The Burning Sun

The Open Eye

The third she'd only seen once—in the library, faintly etched into the oak table after their shared vision. A symbol of sight beyond memory.

She reached for the necklace her grandmother gave her when she was ten. A simple silver disk etched with stars.

She'd never thought much of it.

Until now.

Carefully, she flipped it over.

Inside the rim, barely visible, was the Crescent Star.

---

4:44 PM – The Old Church Ruins

She didn't tell anyone where she was going.

The old church sat hidden at the edge of the forest behind campus, half-swallowed by vines and time. No roof. Just broken stone and crumbling pews that no one had touched in decades.

Luna had followed instinct.

Not logic.

Not reason.

Something deeper.

The moment her foot stepped onto the cracked stone floor, the wind stopped.

Completely.

The air went cold.

Scroll clutched to her chest, Luna walked slowly down the moss-covered aisle, toward the remains of the altar.

She knelt, brushing away leaves and dirt.

There—carved into the floor—was the sigil.

The Crescent Star.

It glowed softly. Responding to her presence.

"I knew you'd find it," a voice said behind her.

She spun around, heart pounding.

It was the man from the willow tree.

He stood calmly, not threatening—but not entirely human, either. His eyes didn't match: one pale blue, the other deep amber. A faint scar curved along his cheek like a question mark.

"Who are you?" Luna asked, voice low.

He offered a faint smile. "A friend. One who remembers what you've forgotten."

She didn't relax. "If you're another reincarnated soul from my tragic scrapbook, I'm going to need a name."

"Thorne," he said. "And you don't know me yet. But you will."

"Why are you watching me?"

"Because they are, too."

He stepped forward, holding out a small black envelope. It was sealed in wax—with the sun-flame insignia she'd seen before. The same one on Asher's ring.

"What is this?" she whispered, fingers trembling as she took it.

"A choice," Thorne said. "You and the boy—you're not the only ones bound to this curse. But you may be the only ones who can end it."

And then—

he was gone.

Not in a walking-away kind of way.

In a blink-and-vanish kind of way.

Luna stared at the envelope in her hand.

Beneath her feet, the Crescent Star sigil pulsed.

Once.

Then again.

She wasn't alone anymore.

And that terrified her more than the curse ever had.

---

End of Chapter