Marcus spent months trying to trace the magical signatures, to understand what was blocking Adrian's reincarnation. Kieran followed every lead with desperate intensity, traveling to locations where the soul energy seemed strongest.
Japan. Brazil. Norway. Egypt. Each place showed traces of the magical signature Marcus had detected. Each place promised to be where Adrian's soul would finally manifest.
Each place was a disappointment.
"It's not coming from these locations," Marcus finally admitted after the fourth fruitless journey. "The energy is dispersed, scattered across the globe. I think... I think what I detected wasn't Adrian's reincarnation beginning. It was just residual soul energy from other reincarnations. I misread the signs."
The words hit Kieran like a physical blow.
"You mean... it wasn't him? All of this—the hope, the preparation, the searching—it was never him?"
Marcus's expression was anguished. "I'm so sorry, Kieran. I thought—I truly believed—"
"Get out."
"Kieran—"
"GET OUT!" The roar shook the walls. Kieran's eyes blazed crimson, fangs extended, his grief transforming into rage. "You gave me hope! You made me believe he was coming back! And it was NOTHING!"
Marcus fled, knowing that Kieran in this state was dangerous even to friends.
Alone, Kieran's rage collapsed into something worse: despair so profound it was annihilating.
He'd let himself hope. After eight centuries of careful emotional distance, he'd allowed that tiny spark of possibility to grow into a flame. And now it was extinguished, leaving him in darker darkness than before.
Because now he knew: even when the universe whispered promises of return, they were lies.
Adrian wasn't coming back. Not this year. Not this century. Maybe not ever.
And Kieran would spend eternity waiting for a dawn that would never break.
He destroyed their quarters that night. Smashed every sketch of Adrian's smile, tore apart every remnant of their brief time together, tried to physically purge the hope that had poisoned him.
But destroying things didn't help. Nothing helped.
He was trapped in an eternal cycle of loss, hope, and disappointment.
And he didn't know how much more he could endure.