Chapter 20: Fragments of the Eternal
Moonlight streamed through the wide arched windows of Sirius's chamber, illuminating the dustless floor and rows of untouched books with a faint silver glow. He sat on the cushioned window seat, knees drawn slightly toward his chest, one hand resting beneath his chin as his crimson eyes watched the moon rise over the distant mountains.
The world outside was quiet.
But inside him, something stirred.
A silence he had long grown used to was being chipped away—slowly, subtly—by memories not entirely new, but no longer dormant. They came not as visions, but as feelings that bled into thought. Not sudden, like thunder. No, they crept in like the wind beneath a locked door.
A whisper of laughter.
A gentle hand brushing through his hair.
A voice, so familiar it burned.
Abylay.
He exhaled slowly, not in pain, not in longing, but in understanding.
He had known who he was since the day he opened his crimson eyes in this life. Sirius Farah Von Ross. The heir to the strongest Duke. The child of magic and sword. But beneath that name… he had always remembered.
The Demon King. Ruler of the underworld. The Sovereign of Boundless Night.
But what he hadn't remembered—until now—was how it ended.
Not just the betrayal, not just the blade in his back, not just his brother's whisper of conquest and cowardice.
No… it was the part that mattered most. The part he had buried.
Her.
He closed his eyes.
And it came to him like a tide: the memory of her face, her moonlit eyes, her celestial presence. Not as a goddess towering above, but as a being who sat beside him on the throne of silence, whispering stars into his ears when all the world bowed before him in fear.
She had always loved him.
Even when the world hated him.
Even when his name alone made the sky tremble, she had remained by his side.
He saw it now—the night they were forced to part. Her hand cupping his cheek. Her voice trembling.
"I'll wait. No matter how many cycles. No matter how many lives. I'll wait."
He had been bleeding then. Dying, even. His magic burning away as the chains of betrayal dragged him into slumber.
But she had kissed his forehead—not his lips, not his crown—his forehead, like one would to a child they couldn't protect.
The kind of love that didn't need words. The kind of love that made immortality worth living.
His throat tightened.
He whispered, "You waited, didn't you… Abylay."
The moon above glowed brighter, its light softening the corners of the room. As if it had heard him. As if it responded.
He leaned his head against the cool glass.
He remembered now.
Not everything. Not yet.
But enough.
Enough to know that no power, no title, no destiny would ever be greater than what he had lost—and what waited still beneath the moon's gaze.
And so, he whispered again, quieter this time.
"I'm coming back to you."
Not as a king.
Not as a god.
Just as the one who once held her under the night sky… and still did.