Chapter 4 The Sigil Of The Flame

Chapter 4: The Sigil of

The candle beside Amara sputtered, casting long, quivering shadows on the walls. She clutched the drawing of the sigil, her fingers white against the paper. The flame surrounded by serpents-it wasn't just a dream. It was a memory, buried beneath centuries of silence.

She moved to the window again, heart hammering.

The sidewalk was empty. No sign of the black car. But the word "Soon" carved into the pavement hadn't been there yesterday. It was deliberate. A message from someone who didn't just know her past.

Someone who was part of it.

She grabbed her phone and texted Leo.

Amara: We need to talk. Now.

Seconds later, her phone buzzed.

Leo: I'm on my way.

Leo didn't wait for her to buzz him in. He entered with a keycard from his private security network-something she didn't even know he had access to. Amara opened the door to find him breathless, his hair damp from rain and urgency.

"You saw it?" she asked.

"Yes." He held up a folder, soaked but intact. "You're not the only one drawing symbols."

Amara stepped back to let him in. Leo spread the contents across her kitchen counter-clippings, photos, and an old parchment bearing the same sigil she'd drawn.

"I found this in my grandfather's vault," he said. "It matches the one in your dream."

Amara's eyes widened. "What is it?"

Leo took a breath. "It's the mark of the Order of the Veiled Flame. The cult that ended you in your last life."

She touched the parchment gently. "You believe it now. All of it."

"I can't afford not to."

Amara turned toward the window. "Someone left a message outside. In the concrete. I think he's close."

Leo followed her gaze. "Then we're not waiting anymore. We dig deeper, now."

The Ardent Archives were beneath the main tower, hidden behind biometric scanners and time-worn steel doors. Leo had only visited once, after his father's death, but tonight he brought Amara with him.

The vault smelled like ash and oil.

They passed corridors lined with family paintings-some of men who looked eerily like Leo, others of women whose eyes mirrored Amara's.

At the end of the hallway, Leo pressed his palm to a black panel.

The door groaned open to reveal a chamber lined with tomes, scrolls, and ancient weapons. A glass case at the center contained the family's most guarded relics.

Leo opened a drawer and withdrew a faded journal. "This belonged to Leontius Ardent. The original."

Amara leaned closer, brushing the dust away.

The entries were erratic, emotionally charged. One caught her eye immediately:

October 15, 1874

She remembered the lake today. The exact moment we met. I wept when she said my name the way she used to.

But Cyras was watching. I feel him in every shadow. He won't rest until we're both ash.

Amara looked up. "Leo... what if Cyras is still alive too?"

Leo frowned. "Reincarnated? Maybe. But to carry memory through centuries... it would take more than time. It would take a ritual."

He flipped to the back of the journal. There, burned into the last page, was a final note.

If the flame survives, it will burn through all our lives. Only love reborn can end the curse.

Back in her apartment that night, Amara couldn't sleep.

She pulled out her sketchpad, letting her fingers move without conscious thought. When she looked down, she'd drawn a face.

Not Leo's.

Another man-sharper, colder, with eyes like obsidian and a cruel twist to his lips.

The name came to her like a whisper:

Cyras.

Her breath caught.

She knew that face. Not from the dream-but from reality.

From work.

The next morning, Amara sat quietly in the Ardent Corp lobby, her heart thudding.

She waited for him.

And then-there he was.

Tall, sharply dressed, his presence commanding yet dark. He was speaking to someone on the phone, his voice smooth, but the moment he glanced her way, she felt it.

His eyes locked onto hers.

And he smiled.

The kind of smile someone wears when they've won a game only they know they're playing.

Her skin crawled.

As he passed by, he paused just long enough to whisper:

"Lovely to see you again, Mariselle."

She didn't speak.

Couldn't.

And when she turned to follow him with her gaze, he was gone-vanished behind the elevator doors like smoke.

Amara burst into Leo's office minutes later.

"He's here. He's one of your executives."

Leo stood immediately. "Who?"

She was shaking. "His name now is Cyrus Vale. Head of Mergers & Acquisitions."

Leo froze. "My father brought him in before he died. I never trusted him."

Amara's hands tightened into fists. "He called me Mariselle. He remembers everything."

Leo picked up the phone. "We're not waiting for him to make the first move."

"Leo-" she started.

But he looked at her, eyes burning with the fire of old vows.

"This time," he said, "he doesn't win."