A Ghost Reawakened
Zyra's breath hitched as the Seeker stepped forward, his shadow stretching long beneath the pale moonlight. The golden insignia on his chest gleamed like molten fire, marking him as a high-ranking hunter of the celestial order.
But it wasn't his armor or his weapon that sent a chill down her spine.
It was his face.
Memories surged like a flood, dragging her back to a time she had tried to forget.
A time when she had been weak. A time when she had been hunted.
"It's been a long time, Zyra," the Seeker said, his voice smooth as a dagger's edge.
Kieran tensed beside her, his silver eyes flicking between them. He had sensed the shift in her, the way her body had locked into place the moment she saw the man.
"You know him," Kieran murmured.
Zyra's fingers curled around the hilt of her dagger.
"Yes," she said, voice tight. "He's the one who tried to kill me."
The Seeker smirked, tilting his head slightly. "Tried?" he mused. "I recall that being a matter of circumstance. You were quite good at running, back then."
Kieran's expression darkened. His stance shifted subtly, placing himself between Zyra and the hunter.
Protecting her.
Zyra should have been irritated by that, but a part of her felt... something else.
Something dangerous.
Something inevitable.
---
Memories of Blood and Fire
Zyra could still see it—the temple burning, the screams echoing through the stone corridors, the sickening scent of blood and incense mingling in the air.
And she could still see him.
Standing at the edge of the massacre. Watching.
He had been the one leading the charge that night. Hunting her.
She hadn't known why, back then. Only that the celestial order had deemed her existence a mistake.
And now?
That same cold stare pinned her in place once more.
But she wasn't the same girl she had been years ago.
"Still hiding behind your gods?" she asked, voice laced with venom.
The Seeker chuckled. "Still defying fate?"
Kieran took a step forward, his magic humming just beneath the surface of his skin. "Who is he?"
Zyra hesitated for only a second. Then she answered.
"His name is Valen. And he's the reason I don't believe in mercy anymore."
---
The Weight of Fate
Valen sighed as if this was nothing more than an inconvenience.
"You misunderstand, Zyra," he said. "This isn't personal. It never was. You were marked for death before you were even born. I was simply the one assigned to carry it out."
Zyra's grip on her dagger tightened. "And yet, here I stand."
"Because you were lucky," Valen said simply. His gaze flicked to Kieran. "But luck runs out. And this time, you have more than just your life on the line, don't you?"
The way he looked at Kieran—calculated, assessing—sent a surge of protectiveness through Zyra.
Kieran didn't belong to their war. He had suffered enough at the hands of fate.
She wasn't going to let him become a casualty of her past.
Kieran, however, didn't flinch beneath the scrutiny. "If you're here for her, you'll have to go through me first."
Valen smiled. "I was hoping you'd say that."
---
The Fight for Survival
The moment the words left Valen's mouth, the shadows attacked.
Zyra barely had time to react before the air around them shifted, darkened—
Magic surged, swallowing the clearing in thick tendrils of divine energy. The Seeker moved like a phantom, his blade glinting as it slashed through the air—
But Kieran was faster.
A burst of raw power exploded from him, silver lightning crackling as it met Valen's strike.
Their weapons clashed, the force of it shaking the ground. Sparks flew, illuminating the darkened forest in brief flashes of light.
Zyra didn't hesitate. She moved.
In a blur, she launched herself into the fray, her dagger slicing toward Valen's exposed side—
Only for him to spin at the last second, his blade catching hers with a sharp clang.
"Predictable," he murmured.
Zyra gritted her teeth, twisting her wrist, but he countered each of her movements with effortless precision. Damn it.
Valen wasn't just a Seeker.
He was one of the best.
And he had come prepared.
---
A Dangerous Gamble
They needed to end this quickly.
They couldn't outrun the celestial order forever. If they wasted too much time here, more would come.
Zyra's mind raced. They needed an opening—something to tip the scales in their favor.
She caught Kieran's gaze mid-fight, and in that split second, a silent plan formed.
Kieran's lips curled into a wicked smirk.
Then, without warning, he dropped his defense.
Valen's blade swung toward him—
And Zyra struck.
In the heartbeat before impact, Kieran's magic erupted. A wave of silver energy blasted outward, blinding, consuming.
Valen's attack faltered. Just for a second.
And a second was all Zyra needed.
She drove her dagger deep—right into his side.
Valen's breath hitched, his body jerking in surprise.
For the first time, he looked caught off guard.
But he didn't fall.
Instead, he let out a breathless chuckle.
"You really haven't changed, have you?"
Then, before Zyra could pull back, he gripped her wrist and whispered something that made her blood freeze.
"This isn't over. And next time… you won't see me coming."
Then, in a swirl of shadows and divine magic—he vanished.
---
The Aftermath
Silence fell over the clearing.
Zyra stood frozen, her blade still slick with his blood. Her pulse pounded, her breath uneven.
Kieran exhaled sharply beside her, rubbing a hand over his jaw. "Well," he muttered. "That was fun."
She shot him a glare. "That was reckless."
He smirked. "But effective."
Zyra rolled her eyes, but her heart was still hammering.
Because Valen was still out there.
And he wasn't going to stop.
Not until fate was fulfilled.
Not until she and Kieran were dead.
But if fate thought she was going to roll over and let it win?
It had another thing coming.
---