Snowflakes drifted lazily over the Temple of Tianxu, painting the stone steps in cold white. Lan Xiyue's slender hands ached from scrubbing the floors, yet she moved with the same quiet diligence as always, ignoring the laughter that followed her every step. "Spiritless girl," a priestess sneered, "even the dust refuses to settle for you."
Xiyue bowed her head, keeping her words locked behind a trembling mouth. She had no aura, no spiritual mark, nothing that set her apart. In the eyes of the temple, she was nothing.
As she carried a pail of water across the eastern hall, her gaze caught the Mirror of Aeons, a massive obsidian relic set against the wall, untouched for centuries. Its surface shimmered with a strange, almost imperceptible glow.
No priestess dared approach it; rumors claimed the mirror imprisoned the God of Shadows long ago.
Her heart skipped a beat, curiosity prying at the corners of her fear. The temple's forbidden relic called to her, faint as a whisper, and she felt a tug she could not resist.
Her fingers brushed the cold glass. A tremor shot through her wrist. The surface rippled, almost like liquid. She jerked back, heart hammering, but her hand was drawn forward again. A low hum echoed through the hall, vibrating in her chest, vibrating in her bones.
The mirror cracked. A hairline fracture snaked across the surface, glowing faintly red, then spreading. Dust rose around her, and the temperature plummeted. Frost traced delicate patterns on the floor beneath her feet.
Lan Xiyue stumbled backward, barely catching herself against the wall. The air thickened, heavy with energy she could not comprehend. Then, a shadow tore through the fractured mirror. It poured into the room like smoke from a thousand extinguished candles, curling around her trembling form.
She froze, unable to move, unable to speak. From the darkness emerged a figure — tall, broad, cloaked in black robes that flickered like liquid night. His crimson eyes burned like molten metal, and for a heartbeat, she felt the air itself bend around him.
"You shouldn't have touched me," the figure said, voice low, resonant, and impossibly powerful. Every word seemed to slice through her soul. Lan Xiyue's legs gave way. She fell backward, cold air searing her lungs, yet before she could hit the floor, the shadow's hand reached out, gripping her wrist.
The Soul Imprint flared on her skin, azure lines spreading up her arm. Pain shot through her like fire, but it was accompanied by a strange warmth, a connection she could not explain.
The temple trembled. Lanterns swayed, their flames flickering violently. A low rumble rolled through the hall, echoing from the very stones beneath her feet. Lan Xiyue looked up, eyes wide, and saw the figure's gaze lock on hers.
"Lan Xiyue," he said, and her heart skipped again at the sound of her name spoken by a voice she should never have known. "Your soul… is mine now."
She tried to speak, but no sound escaped her lips. The energy between them pulsed, and she felt herself drawn into it, every heartbeat synchronizing with his. Her body tingled, alive with power she had never known.
Fear twisted in her stomach, but beneath it, something else stirred — curiosity, awe, and a spark she dared not name.
A sudden crash shattered her momentary trance. The temple doors blew open with a gust of wind, and snow poured in. Several priestesses had come to investigate the mirror's hum.
Their eyes widened in terror at the figure standing in the hall. "What… what is this?!" one shrieked, raising a hand to cast a spell.
Jin Yue's crimson gaze swept the room. A wave of shadow erupted from him, silencing the priestesses in a pulse of cold power. The air chilled, frost creeping along the walls and floors. Lan Xiyue clutched at her chest as the energy washed over her, the Soul Imprint burning brighter, bonding her to the shadow god in ways she could not yet understand.
"Do not move," Jin Yue said, voice like a blade. He extended his hand toward the intruding priestesses, and their magic dissolved in the freezing air before it could form.
Their mouths opened, but no sound came out. He did not strike them, only stood, a dark sentinel, and turned his gaze back to her.
Lan Xiyue swallowed hard, shivering, and whispered, "W-who… are you?" Her voice was barely audible, drowned beneath the hum of the mirror and the crackling of his aura.
"Your master," Jin Yue said simply. "And your curse."
The temple trembled again, stones cracking under the surge of power. Frost crawled across the steps like fingers, and snow whipped violently into the hall. Lan Xiyue's heart raced; fear and awe intertwined in a way she could not untangle.
Her legs quivered as the shadow figure stepped closer. He crouched slightly, bringing his face near hers, and in the hollow of the temple, his gaze burned into her soul.
"You are mine," he said again, softer this time, almost a whisper that chilled her blood and heated her heart simultaneously. "And I will not let the heavens take you from me."
Lan Xiyue's knees buckled, and she collapsed into the snow-dusted floor. Above them, the Mirror of Aeons groaned, its cracks glowing red, whispering a prophecy she could not yet hear.
Outside, the world seemed to pause. Somewhere deep in Tianxu, Su Yao felt the surge of forbidden energy and hissed, "It begins…"
The wind howled. Frost etched the walls. The temple trembled. And between the girl with no light and the God of Shadows, the first thread of their fated bond ignited.