Chapter 2
The wind screamed through the cathedral's broken windows, carrying the scent of ash and rain. The moon was a bruised halo behind the clouds, its light falling through the cracked dome and pooling over shattered pews and scorched marble. Arielle tightened her grip on the silver talisman, its faint gold aura trembling in her hand like a frightened heartbeat.
The ruins were older than the city that now surrounded them—once holy ground, now nothing but a carcass of prayer and dust. But the air was not empty.
Something moved within it.
Every step she took echoed, too loud, too fragile against the vast silence. Her boots brushed against symbols carved into the floor, sigils of warding—half-faded, their power long gone. Her breath came slow, deliberate. She had been trained not to fear, but the shadows here felt alive.
And then she saw him.
He was standing in the half-collapsed nave, framed by moonlight. Tall. Still. Shadows curled at his feet like living smoke, clinging to him as if afraid to let go. His clothes were torn and dark, the fabric whispering as the night wind touched it. Black markings—thin and delicate as veins—ran down his neck and disappeared beneath his collar.
But it was his eyes that stopped her.
They were red, not the bright red of fresh blood but the deep, steady glow of embers buried in ashes. There was something old in them—older than the cathedral, older than the world she knew.
For a long moment, neither spoke. The only sound was the rain dripping from the cracked ceiling and the slow beat of her pulse.
"You shouldn't be here," he said finally.
His voice wasn't what she expected. It wasn't monstrous or echoing or cold. It was quiet, almost weary—like a prayer whispered to the wrong god.
Arielle steadied her breath. "I could say the same to you, demon."
He smiled faintly. It wasn't cruel, but it wasn't kind either. "Demon," he echoed, as if testing the word. "That's what they call us. Convenient, isn't it? Everything you can't understand must be cursed."
She raised her talisman higher, light spilling from the sigil etched into its silver core. "And everything that kills humans deserves to be destroyed."
The air between them hummed, her holy power pressing against the aura that surrounded him. The faint golden light from her talisman met the cool, shifting shadow that curled from his skin, the two forces pushing and resisting like water and fire.
He didn't attack. Didn't even move.
"You have her eyes," he said suddenly.
Her brows furrowed. "Whose?"
His head tilted slightly, the moonlight brushing the faint scar across his cheek. "The one who cursed me."
Before she could answer, the sigils carved into the cathedral walls flared to life, reacting to his presence. Light flooded the air—her wards, set to activate when demonic essence was near.
The explosion of power cracked the air like lightning. Holy fire shot across the room, searing the shadows. The ground trembled beneath her boots.
Lucien didn't flinch.
The fire struck, bursting against an invisible barrier that shimmered inches from his skin. The magic hissed and broke apart, swallowed by darkness. Shadows gathered behind him like wings unfurling, silent and vast.
When the light faded, he stood untouched. The crimson glow in his eyes burned brighter than before.
Arielle's breath caught in her throat. "How are you still alive?"
He took a slow step toward her. The ground beneath him cracked with every movement, old holy marks searing under his presence. "Because I am not bound by the same Heaven you serve."
She took a step back. "Stay where you are."
"I'm not here to harm you," he said softly.
"Then why are you here?"
His expression faltered. For a heartbeat, the centuries of exhaustion behind his eyes slipped through. "To remember."
"What?"
But he didn't answer. His gaze was fixed on the talisman in her hand—the same one that now trembled, its once steady glow flickering as though unsure of its loyalty.
"Do you even know whose power you carry?" he asked.
Her grip tightened. "It's the light of the Heavens."
Lucien's voice darkened. "No. It's the remnant of a soul who once loved a demon—and was damned for it."
Her pulse skipped. The rain outside turned heavier, a rhythmic drumming that echoed through the hollow cathedral.
"That's impossible," she said.
He smiled again—sadly this time. "You say that as if Heaven doesn't lie."
Before she could reply, the wind shifted. A sudden burst of energy flared behind her—a familiar warmth that made the shadows recoil.
"Arielle!"
She turned.
A man in his fifties stood at the cathedral's entrance, his long coat lined with glowing seals. Master Jin—her mentor, the one who had raised her after her parents died in an exorcism gone wrong. His presence filled the space like sunlight breaking through storm clouds.
"Step away from him," Jin ordered.
Lucien didn't move. "Ah. The Order's hound."
"Don't mock what you can't defeat." Jin raised a charm, its golden threads unraveling midair to form a circle of binding light. "By the authority of the Seraphic Seal, I command—"
"Stop!" Arielle cut in, her heart pounding. "He hasn't—"
But Jin's spell was already released. The circle burst outward, chains of light lashing toward Lucien.
Lucien's form blurred, shadows surging to meet the attack. When light met darkness, the air exploded. The cathedral groaned as the floor cracked open, shards of marble scattering like glass.
Arielle was thrown back. She hit a pillar hard enough to knock the breath from her lungs. Her talisman flew from her hand, clattering across the stone floor.
Through the haze, she saw Lucien fall to one knee, his body surrounded by a violent swirl of holy chains. They cut into his skin, burning trails of light. He didn't cry out—he just looked up at her.
Even bound, his eyes were steady.
"You don't know what you're doing," he told Jin quietly. "Every seal you break, every demon you destroy—Heaven tightens its leash on you all."
"Save your lies for the damned." Jin pressed his palm against the air, strengthening the chains.
Lucien's gaze shifted to Arielle again. "He'll destroy everything trying to save it. Just like he did before."
Something inside her twisted. "Before?" she whispered.
But Lucien only smiled faintly, the shadows beneath him beginning to stir once more. "We'll meet again, exorcist. We always do."
The chains shattered. A wave of black flame erupted, devouring the light. Arielle raised her arm against the glare, the heat searing her skin. When she opened her eyes again, Lucien was gone.
The only thing left was silence—and the faint echo of his voice in her mind.
> You can't destroy me, Arielle. We are bound far deeper than Heaven ever told you.
---
She gasped, pressing a hand to her chest. Her talisman—half-broken—still pulsed faintly on the ground. The edges of the silver charm were blackened, the holy symbols cracked.
Jin rushed to her side, his brow furrowed. "Are you hurt?"
"No," she lied. Her shoulder ached, and there was a sharp, throbbing pain beneath her ribs where the backlash had struck. But it wasn't her injuries that unsettled her. It was the warmth lingering under her skin—the trace of a presence that wasn't hers.
"What did he say to you?" Jin asked.
Arielle hesitated. Her fingers curled around the talisman, feeling its weakened pulse. The crimson glow from Lucien's eyes still burned in her memory.
"…Nothing," she said finally.
Jin studied her face, clearly unconvinced. "Demons are deceivers. Even silence is poison when it comes from them."
He turned toward the shattered altar. "We'll seal this place again. And you—rest. You've done enough for one night."
Arielle nodded, but her gaze lingered on the spot where Lucien had vanished. The shadows there hadn't faded completely—they pulsed faintly, like a heartbeat waiting beneath the surface.
When Jin walked away, she pressed her hand to her chest. Her own heart beat too fast, too unsteady.
And beneath that rhythm, she could almost feel another pulse echoing with it.
It was impossible. It was wrong.
But somewhere in the darkness, she could still hear his voice.
Soft. Dangerous. Familiar.
And the worst part—
she didn't want it to stop.