Chapter 5-The Archive and the Garden
1199 Words
Lucien
The council's summons arrived at dawn- carried by a raven, sealed in ancestral wax, its message etched in blood-touched vellum.
He burned it unread.
Instead, Lucien descended into the archives beneath the ValeTech's estate, past the biometric locks and memory-coded doors, to the chamber forbidden even to heirs.
The air was cold with old magic.
Shelves lined with records, scrolls, and artifacts that older than governments waited in silence. He searched not for prophecy- but for a loophole. For the history they never taught. For the truth they buried beneath the curse.
One scroll stopped him cold.
A pledge written by his ancestor- Adrien Vale- and a woman named Caela Hart.
Mira's bloodline.
The vow was unfinished, trailing off mid- stroke, as though interrupted.
Lucien stared at it for a long time.
They tried to free themselves once.
He wouldn't let it fail again. He took the scroll with him, folding it up gently and walked out of the chambers.
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Mira
At her grandmother's house- hidden beyond the outer woods- Mira traced faded ink on a leather-bound journal wrapped in cloth and rosemary.
The entries weren't scientific. They were confessions. Dreams. Records of visions, of strange plants blooming at overnight, of wolves guarding gardens.
He returns each time. I remember him more by his voice than his face.
Mira's hand trembled.
She flipped to the final page. A sketch of an altar beneath a crescent moon. Her grandmother had drawn it decades ago.
Just like Mira saw in the vision.
The air thickened. The greenhouse key in her pocket warmed slightly.
And in the corner of the page, a name.
Adrien.
She closed the book slowly.
Lucien hadn't just collided in her life.
He been circling it for generations.
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Lucien
The archive breathed beneath the estate like a pulse.
Lucien moved between shadowed shelves, the scent of cedar, ink, and aged binding lingered in the cold air. His fingers drifted over scrolls etched in forgotten dialects, seals pressed in lunar sigils. Most held bloodline records, council decrees, prophecy fragments.
But one stopped him.
A union contract- unfinished. The wax seal cracked, it's script faded but legible.
Adrien Vale
Caela Hart
His ancestor. Hers.
Lucien sank in the nearest chair, heart thrumming louder than footsteps should allow. The parchment trembled in his grip. The final vow was missing, interrupted mid-stroke.
"She died before it could be sealed," he murmured. "Or they took her."
The margins revealed something else-snatched by another hand.
"Love reclaims what blood forgets"
The council had erased this. Buried it. But Lucien felt it in his bones.
They weren't cursed by fate.
They were betrayed by power.
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Mira
The journal smelled like rosemary and rain.
Mira hadn't touched it in years- not since her grandmother whispered stories about "the old ones" who loved wolves more than the gods.
But tonight, the pages drew her in.
She flipped to the sketch- a crescent moon over an altar, vines curling towards hands clasped in defiance. Her breath caught.
Below, a name.
Adrien.
And in the margins, scattered across four entries- mentions of silver blooms, dreams of a man she called "the voice in the woods" a phrased repeated twice.
"Caela watched the moss glow when he spoke."
Mira pressed a palm to the page. A subtle warmth met her skin.
She looked towards the window, the moon hanging low in violet haze.
Lucien wasn't just an accident. He was a return.
And she wasn't just remembering.
She was reclaiming.
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Lucien
Lucien didn't wait for daylight.
He stood at Mira's door just after dawn, scroll in hand, heartbeat louder than it should be. The journal entry she'd mentioned- the one with Adrien- had etched itself into his thoughts, matching the vow he'd uncovered hours ago. Different sources. Same names. Same altar.
Same heartbreak.
Mira opened the door slowly, her expression unreadable, but her stance was wary- strong.
"You look like you haven't slept," she said.
"I didn't want to," Lucien replied."Not until I showed you this."
He offered the scroll. She took it gently, eyes scanning the name. Caela Hart.
Her hand trembled.
She led him to the greenhouse without a word. The moment they entered, the bloom pulse faint silver. Like a memory walking.
Lucien watched her lay the scroll beside her grandmother's journal, side-by-side on the bench. Two separate lines, two halves of the same wound.
"They loved each other," Mira whispered. "They tried."
"And the council buried it."
He sat across from her, for once unsure of what to do with his hands.
"My family wants me to commit to a legacy built on lies. They think loyalty is silence."
She met his gaze.
"Then speak louder."
Lucien swallowed.
The leather band from his pocket- the same one he clutched outside of the archives- rested between them.
"If we are repeating a story, maybe this time, we finish it."
Mira reached for the band with hesitation...then certainty.
The bloom behind her flared, casting soft silver across her face.
This wasn't just resonance.
It was remembering.
And this time, they weren't alone with the truth.
The night held its breath.
Mira's hand still warm in his, her pulse steady but electric beneath his skin. They hadn't spoken since leaving the greenhouse, not really- but the silence between them felt sacred, not broken.
Lucien's thoughts spun. The scroll. The journal. The forest in their shared vision. Her voice saying "Then we break it." The band resting in her pocket. She hadn't returned it.
The moment felt whole... until it wasn't.
As they reached the gate to Mira's apartment, a car pulled up smoothly beside them.
Black. Unmarked.
Lucien stiffen. Mira felt it instantly.
The door opened, and out stepped Magnus Vale.
His father.
The air thinned.
Magnus wore a coat darker than the night, his cane polished to a cruel gleam. His gaze swept Mira with the same calculation he reserved for boardrooms and political adversarives.
"You missed the council summons," he said flatly.
Lucien stepped forward, shielding Mira out of instinct.
"You sent a raven. Not a request."
Magnus's jaw tightened.
"And yet you answered neither."
Lucien held his ground.
"I've had better company."
Magnus's eyes narrowed.
"She's not your destiny."
"No. She's mine by choice."
Mira didn't flinch. She didn't retreat. She stepped beside Lucien, spine straight, voice calm.
"I'm not anyone's possession. And if your council wants something from Lucien, they'll have to speak plainly-and respectfully."
Lucien's chest swelled. She was lightning in human form.
But Magnus wasn't impressed. He glanced at the band in her coat pocket, visible just enough to recognize.
"So, it begins again," he muttered.
"This time," Lucien said coldly."it finishes."
The wind stirred the trees above them. Magnus didn't speak again. He simply turned, coat flaring as he reentered the car.
Lucien watched as the car disappeared into the fog.
Then he turned to Mira.
"You didn't have to say anything."
Mira's lips curled.
"Neither did you. But I'm glad you did."
Lucien reached for her hand again- this time slower, firmer.
And as the city settled into the early morning hours, he realized something:
The curse wasn't the only thing worth fighting.
Legacy was too.
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