Prologue: The Beginning and the End

The wind carried a soft whisper through the forest of Lirielle, brushing against the silent trees like the breath of a forgotten memory. Beneath the night sky, bathed in the pale glow of the twin moons, a lone figure stood on the edge of a crumbling cliff. The air smelled of rain and regret.

Aira tightened her grip on the pendant that hung from her neck—a delicate fragment of something ancient, glowing faintly in her hand. The same dream had brought her here again, to this cliff that only existed in a world she did not belong to. And yet, each time, it felt more real than the life she left behind upon waking.

The sky above rumbled as dark clouds gathered. A voice—a familiar voice—echoed from behind her, laced with both sorrow and longing.

“Aira... you shouldn’t have come.”

She turned slowly to face him. Kael, with his silver-gray eyes, stood just as she remembered: both a stranger and someone achingly familiar. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes carried the weight of lifetimes—of promises made and broken, of moments that slipped through their grasp like sand.

"I had to," Aira whispered, as if that was the only truth she could hold on to. "I need to know who you are... and who I am to you."

Kael’s gaze softened, but there was something dangerous beneath it—like a storm waiting to break. "Some truths can’t be undone, Aira. Once you see them, they will change everything."

The cliff trembled beneath their feet, as if the dream itself was unraveling. In that moment, Aira knew two things with terrifying clarity: she had found the man who haunted her dreams, and the world around them was built on lies—layers of forgotten lives and untold secrets waiting to surface.

As the winds howled and the cliff began to crumble, Kael reached out, his hand inches from hers. “You can still turn back. But if you stay... you’ll have to face what we were—and what we might become."

Aira stared at his outstretched hand, her heart pounding with both fear and a strange, undeniable longing. She knew this was only the beginning, but it already felt like the end.

The choice was hers.

And somehow, she knew it always had been.