Chapter five : The Pull of Something Hidden
532 Words
The ruin hadn’t changed. Still cracked and overgrown, cloaked in ivy and shadow. Still silent… except for the heartbeat she couldn’t explain.
He was there. Just like before. Waiting.
Ava stepped through the broken doorway like she belonged there. Like they both did.
Achi stood by the hearth, one hand resting against the stone. The fire was out, but the air between them still pulsed with heat.
“You came back,” he said.
“Why are you here?” she asked softly.
“I could ask you the same.”
She folded her arms. “I don’t know.”
That was the truth. A bitter one.
Something about him unsettled her. Not just his presence—but how she felt in it. Like she was weightless and burning all at once. Like she was looking at someone she used to know in another life.
“I… dreamt of this place,” she admitted, eyes scanning the dark corners. “But I’ve never been here before. Not really.”
“You’ve been here,” Achi said, voice low. “Just not in the way you think.”
That stopped her.
“What does that mean?”
He didn’t answer. Instead, he stepped aside, revealing a strange mark etched into the wall behind him. It looked ancient—carved into the stone with precision. A circle split by two jagged lines, one black, one crimson.
Ava stepped closer, drawn to it like gravity.
Her fingertips brushed the mark—cold stone, but it felt alive.
And for just a moment, the room vanished.
⸻
She was standing beneath a red sky, surrounded by stone pillars. A man knelt before her, bleeding. His eyes were golden.
She raised her hand—and the fire obeyed.
⸻
She jerked back, gasping. The room returned. Achi was watching her.
“What was that?” she demanded.
“You’re remembering,” he said quietly.
“Remembering what?”
But he only looked at her with something like sorrow. Or fear.
“I can’t tell you. Not yet.”
“Why?”
“Because once you know, there’s no turning back.”
She hated how his words made her feel—like she was standing at the edge of a cliff, blindfolded, and some part of her wanted to jump.
“I should go,” she whispered.
He didn’t stop her.
But as she stepped back into the forest, she felt the pull behind her like a string attached to her ribs. She didn’t want to leave. Not really.
⸻
The moon was sinking low by the time she crept back into the manor.
No one saw her.
She washed up, dressed, tried to shake the feeling that her skin didn’t quite fit anymore.
The next morning, she stepped outside—and blinked against the soft, golden light.
It touched her skin.
And didn’t burn.
She stared at her hand, turning it in the sun, waiting for the sting. The ache. The usual flash of pain.
Nothing.
No pain. No smoke. Just warmth.
She pulled her cloak tighter and rushed back inside, heart thundering.
Something was changing.
And she didn’t know if it was magic, prophecy…
Or him.
- Writer
