C4 CHAPTER 4 — The Awakening**

The world gradually came back into focus. Not all at once, more like rising through layers of thick, heavy darkness. Aira initially felt weightless, as if her body had disappeared and only her thoughts remained. Then the sensation of breathing surged back into her lungs, sharp and cold.

She gasped, Her eyes flew open.

Above her, the cathedral ceiling loomed dim and endless, with moonlight slicing through cracks in the old stained glass. The scent of dust and aged stone filled her senses. For a moment, she was disoriented, she didn’t know where she was or why her chest felt like something inside had torn open.

Then everything rushed back to her.

The Watcher.

Her power.

The blinding light.

Lucian calling her name.

Aira sat up abruptly. A wave of dizziness washed over her, forcing her to steady herself on the cold floor. “Aira.”

His voice came from nearby low, controlled, but tight with an unnameable emotion.

Lucian stepped into the sliver of moonlight, shadows clinging to him as if obeying his command. His coat was torn at the sleeve, and a dark bruise marked his jaw. He looked like he had fought something, and barely prevailed.

She stared at him, her voice hoarse.

“What… happened?”

Lucian crouched beside her, not touching her but close enough that she could feel his presence like warmth.

“You awakened,” he said softly. “Too suddenly. Too violently. Your body wasn’t prepared.”

Aira rubbed her hands; they felt warm almost alive. “I didn’t mean to. It just… happened.”

“That’s what makes it dangerous,” Lucian replied. “Your power reacts to fear… and you are terrified.” Aira swallowed hard, recalling the Watcher’s whisper, how it had descended from the ceiling, and the suffocating pressure in her chest.

“Is it gone?”

“Yes,” he replied. But his tone conveyed more than just reassurance—“gone” didn’t imply defeat; it suggested retreating to regroup, waiting for another opportunity.

She shivered.

Lucian noticed this and picked up a torn piece of cloth lying nearby, draping it over her shoulders. The gesture was small yet grounding.

“Your power,” he continued, “should have remained dormant for at least another year. Someone forced an early awakening—someone who knew exactly how to trigger it.”

Aira’s heart sank.

“So what does that mean?”

"It means the curse has begun."

The words lingered in the air, heavy and cold. She looked at him, bewildered. "Curse? What curse? You keep acting like you know everything but won’t tell me."

Lucian hesitated, not from secrecy, but from concern. He seemed afraid that revealing the truth would shatter her. "I'm trying to protect you from a truth that can't be undone," he explained. "Once you know, there’s no returning to your old life."

Aira shook her head, frustration rising within her. "I think that life ended the moment that thing fell from the ceiling." He didn’t argue with her.

Instead, he breathed out slowly and sat beside her, careful to maintain a respectful distance while remaining close enough in case she collapsed again. "Aira," he began, "you carry a mark—one most people can’t see. It ties you to a power that has been sought after for generations. And now that the Watcher has sensed your awakening… others will come."

Aira's chest tightened. "To kill me?"

Lucian gazed at her with an unreadable expression. "To control you." He paused. "Or to use you." Her heart raced. "And what about you? What do you want?"

His response was immediate. "To keep you alive."

But there seemed to be more, something unsaid, something he couldn’t express.

A crash echoed through the back of the cathedral.

Aira shot upright.

Lucian immediately stood up, placing a protective arm in front of her, not touching but shielding her. His entire demeanor shifted to one of sharp alertness.

"It’s too soon," he murmured under his breath. "They shouldn’t have found us yet."

Another sound followed, slow footsteps, heavy and deliberate. Aira's heart leapt into her throat. "Lucian… who is that?"

He didn’t look back at her. "One of the hunters."

Aira froze in fear.

"Hunters? As in, things like the Shades?"

"No," Lucian replied softly. "Worse." The footsteps grew closer, echoing across the stone floor. "Aira." Lucian lowered his voice. "Whatever happens, don’t use your power again until I teach you how to control it."

"But if I need to.”

"You’ll kill yourself," he said sharply.

Aira's breath caught in her throat.

Before she could respond, a tall silhouette emerged at the far end of the cathedral’s aisle, framed by broken pillars and dim moonlight.

A voice deep, calm, chilling called out:

"Lucian. Step aside. The girl belongs to us."

Lucian shifted slightly, blocking Aira completely.

"No," he said. "She doesn’t."

Aira felt a sinking sensation in her stomach.

The figure moved closer, and in the dim moonlight, she noticed the glint of metal strapped across his chest.

Symbols, Runes, Weapons designed for one purpose only. To hunt people like her. Aira's heart raced in her ears.

Lucian leaned back slightly so she could hear him whisper: "Stay behind me. And whatever you do... don’t say her name."

Aira whispered back, filled with dread, "Why?"His gaze hardened. "Because if he hears it… He’ll bind you."

The hunter raised his blade, and Lucian stepped forward. And the tension in the cathedral became so intense it felt as if the very air might shatter.