Through tear-blurred vision, she saw a figure emerge—a man walking toward her, the fire parting in his wake. His eyes and claws gleamed gold in the firelight, and black and gilded scales covered his face and body, reminiscent of a serpent. But something more specific hovered at the tip of her tongue. His beastly form slowly faded, leaving a beautiful man with warm skin and firm flesh behind. “Help me,” she croaked. “I don't remember…” “Anything?” the stranger asked, his voice deep and ominous. “Only my name. Araheen,” she whispered, her lips trembling.“What happened to me? What is this place?” “You fell behind the Mad End's Wall.” A shadow of a smile crossed the stranger's lips, though it was far from reassuring. Before she could dwell on it, he slid his powerful arms beneath her, lifting her effortlessly as though she weighed nothing at all. “Who are you?” she asked, feeling small in his grasp. He studied her with an enigmatic gaze before replying, I'm Gildeon.” A pause.“Your husband.”
View MoreARAH
Plumber Paul was dead.
Not even a month had passed since he’d walked into her shop and picked her Clover Wish for his first tattoo. She'd pitched that design as a lucky charm to her clients—just a gimmick of sorts. So imagine her surprise when Paul’s wish to win the lottery actually came true days later.
Now, he was gone. Just like that. It wasn’t because of her tattoo, of course. But with that last memory of him, how could she ever look at her Clover Wish and call it lucky again?
Her eyes drifted down to Barky, who was happily munching on his dog food. She squatted next to him, stroking his back and twirling her fingers through his soft brown fur. At least she had this big guy to cheer her up.
The bathroom door creaked open. She glanced up to see Gildeon strolling down the hallway in black sweatpants, rubbing his dark hair with a towel. She’d seen him naked plenty of times, but each time, his perfectly sculpted body drew her gaze like a moth to a flame. The way his muscles flexed with every move always made her blush like a teenager seeing a hot guy for the first time.
At least her past self had good taste.
For six months, she’d been scared and suspicious of Gildeon. How could she not be when she couldn't remember marrying him? Still, it’d be a lie to say she’d never fantasized about him making her come in every way possible.
But until she got her memories back and trusted him completely, she wasn’t about to give in to him—no matter how incredibly irresistible he was.
When Gildeon walked into the dining area, the scent of his minty soap and aftershave filled her senses. Everything about him was so addictive. It made her wonder what she was like falling in love with him before this whole amnesia thing.
“Dinner's ready,” she said, trying to hide her excitement. “Tonio taught me a new recipe for that tuna. Hope you’ll like it.”
Her heart sank a little when he barely glanced at the table. What was she expecting anyway? A loving smile? A “this looks delicious, you're the best wife ever” response?
‘Stop trying so hard to please him, Arah,’ she thought, smiling bitterly to herself. It wasn’t fair that she seemed to be the only one trying to make this marriage feel real. What else could she do? It hurt thinking he’d probably only start appreciating her efforts once she agreed to sleep with him.
Arah washed her hands and returned to find Gildeon already seated, now wearing a shirt from the pile of folded clothes on the couch.
She sat across from him and loaded some veggies onto her plate. “Did you hear what happened to Plumber Paul?” she asked, her tone somber. Gildeon’s attention was still on the food even as she said, “He got stung by a jellyfish. He didn’t make it.”
“Didn’t he just win the lottery?” he said, without so much as flinching. What was he made of? A block of ice?
“I really thought my Clover Wish gave him that luck,” she muttered, more to herself.
That made Gildeon pause and glance up at her. “What Clover Wish?”
“My latest art—the one I inked him with,” she replied before taking a spoonful of food. “Shame he didn’t get to enjoy his prize for long.”
Gildeon leaned back in his chair, staring pensively at his plate, drumming a finger on the table. Did the news finally get to him? It took a while, but she’d take it. Maybe he still had a heart after all.
“When did it happen?” he asked, meeting her gaze with a serious expression.
“This noon. I heard it from Tonio.” She bit her lip, pondering. “Though it’s weird he decided to swim in the rocky area alone.”
A lot didn’t make sense to Arah, but if she dwelled on it too much, she'd feel sorrier for the poor guy.
Pushing stray blue curls out of her eyes, she said, “Um, the mayor’s doing a public funeral for him. You should come with me.”
“Public funeral?” He raised a brow. “Where’s the body?”
“Yeah, it’s public,” she replied, reaching for her pineapple juice. “He didn’t have any family left, so there’s no one to organize it. But almost everyone on the island knew him, so—”
“Arah, where’s the body now?” His sharp voice cut her off, almost making her spill her drink.
What was up with him all of a sudden?
ARAHThey returned to the reception without saying a word to each other. It felt as though an invisible weight lingered in the space between them.Arah’s mind was spinning. So many thoughts, so many emotions, all tangled together. But one kept rising above the rest, refusing to let her go.Nick had died. And she had brought him back.Her subconscious had somehow guided her into making the Resurrection Sigil work. She could still feel the phantom sting of the sigil needle piercing her palm, each prick burning into her skin. But as soon as the sigil’s purpose was fulfilled, the mark vanished. Her body had healed over the wound completely, leaving no trace. Not even a smear of blood used as ink remained.Sweet music played softly in the background, a romantic melody lilting through the air. All eyes were on the bride and groom swaying in the center of the dance floor. Mabel’s smile was radiant, her cheeks glowing, and Arah could see t
GILDEONHe ignited his dragon sight, and the mark flared in a brilliant blue glow. The true Resurrection Sigil—real, alive, working before his eyes. For a moment, he could hardly believe it.His gaze lifted to Arah. Determination and desperation etched her face. She hadn’t regained all her memories—he was sure of that—but something had returned. Enough to unlock this buried knowledge and wield her power again.He needed to know how much she remembered. The warrior in him urged caution. All he knew of her past was that she was a powerful sigilmaker.Which had turned out not to be a rumor at all. Arah had proven it on multiple occasions. Until now, he still couldn’t believe she had slain both Zylas in dragon form and Drusden.An ordinary sylph wouldn’t have been able to do that.So now, watching her true sigilmaking in action, he couldn’t help but wonder:What if Arah reverted t
ARAHThe world shifted around her. Suddenly, Arah found her hand clamped around Nick’s throat.A loud gasp tore from her lips as awareness slammed back into her. She released him instantly, stumbling backward just as his body crumpled to the ground with a heavy thud.Her whole body trembled. Her breaths were shallow.She could hear waves crashing from behind her and smelled the sharp, familiar scent of salt and sand. Dizzy and disoriented, she spun around, trying to place herself, and realized they were back at the shore near the wedding venue.Back in the present.Her eyes dropped to her feet, and her heart stopped.Nick lay sprawled across the sand, his body unnaturally still. His suit was sprinkled with grains of sand where he’d fallen, and his skin had already turned a pale shade. His eyes were closed, mouth slightly parted. There was no rise in his chest. No movement.No life.Arah dropped to her kn
ARAHShe saw Araheen standing at the crest of a hill, her gaze locked on the chaos unfolding below. Flames licked the edges of the camps, casting a flickering, sinister glow across the steppe surrounding the garrison. The night air pulsed with the thrum of magic and the heavy scent of scorched earth and churned soil.A few feet away, two eagles perched in silence. Their wings fluttered now and then, breaking the stillness with soft, sharp screeches. Their calm presence was a contrast to the violence echoing across the plains—clashing steel, whistling arrows, and the guttural roars of warriors locked in combat.Arah could feel it all. The spirit of the battle was seeping into her skin, winding through her chest, curling tightly around her gut.They were on a battlefield. The salamanders and sylphs were fighting.Araheen wasn’t here alone.A male sylph sat on a tree stump nearby, calmly polishing his longsword. His dark blue h
ARAHNick led her into a chamber with white brick walls, each one painted with intricate sigils. Overhead, constellations were etched into the ceiling, glowing softly like they were alive. The floor was an illusion—one moment it felt like walking on a sea of clouds, the next like floating above a void of endless darkness.It didn’t unsettle her much as she was used to heights. Floating came naturally to her, a reflex buried deep in her sylph nature. Still, she had to admit it was eerie. And she’d be lying if she said it didn’t give her goosebumps.Ahead, women stood silently on either side of what looked like an aisle down the center of the room. She counted seven on each side. They wore long white cloaks, their sleek white hair braided neatly down their backs. Pale blue eyes peeked out from behind white veils that covered the upper halves of their faces.They looked just like the veiled women who had shown young A
ARAHBy this time, Father had been promoted to general. And it meant Araheen was now the daughter of the most powerful figure in sylph society. This didn’t surprise Arah, for Father had always carried a commanding presence. Authority clung to him like armor.What she didn’t expect… was to see herself included in a high-level military council. She wasn’t really at the center of the discussion. She was merely standing at the back, alongside other sylphs around her age, all of whom likely held important positions as well.Still, it was a striking contrast to the days when Young Araheen had to hide behind walls just to eavesdrop on conversations like these.“The poison mist we released in the eastern region failed to deliver its intended result,” said Lord Erminius, seated beside her father. “The salamanders seem to have developed an even greater resistance.”“At this rate, the weapon we’ve invested years into will become obsolete,” an
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