The One Who Burns
The One Who Burns
I felt it before I saw him.
The shift in the air.
The wrong kind of warmth in the wind.
Like lightning in my blood.
Theo was back.
---
I was standing at the northern balcony when it hit me.
The moon was buried behind storm clouds. Below, the academy courtyards were still. But the thread inside me — the one I now understood — pulsed once. Then again. Then again.
I spun toward the stairwell.
And I ran.
---
The halls were empty this time of night. The candles dimmed to embers. No footsteps but mine echoed off the stone.
I took the south tower steps two at a time, heart pounding, knowing exactly where he'd go.
The mirror corridor.
The same place we began.
The same place we ended, the night I kissed him and everything came undone.
---
He was waiting there.
Back turned to me.
Hands clutching something against his chest.
I stopped at the end of the corridor, the breath frozen in my lungs.
He turned slowly.
And the look in his eyes—
It wasn't haunted.
It wasn't angry.
It wasn't even hopeful.
It was resigned.
---
He spoke first.
> "You know."
It wasn't a question.
I nodded. "The Book showed me the Hollow Thread. And the name… Milo. I've seen pieces. But not all."
> "That's why I'm here."
He stepped forward.
The light hit his face — and I saw it clearly.
He looked tired.
Older.
Like he'd lived through something none of us were supposed to survive.
> "You need to know the rest before you choose."
---
He handed me the book.
Not the Book.
A different one.
Worn. Old. Stained at the edges.
I opened it slowly.
The first page read:
> The Curse of the Split Thread.
And below that:
> When the Keeper bonds with two, only one thread may survive.
---
I closed it before I could read more.
I already knew what it meant.
> "If I choose one of you…"
He didn't answer.
Didn't have to.
> "What if I don't choose?"
He shook his head. "The Book will. Eventually. If you wait too long, it picks for you."
> "And the other—"
"Burns," he said softly. "Slowly."
---
I stepped away.
The corridor tilted under my feet.
Everything I had touched in the past weeks, everything I'd remembered — all of it led here.
To this.
To a choice that would save one thread… and unravel the other.
---
"You knew this," I said. "You've always known."
He nodded once. "Not always. But before the tower… yes."
> "And Julian?"
> "He doesn't know about the curse. Just the bond. Just… us."
---
Tears blurred my vision, but I blinked them back.
> "Why didn't you run farther?"
He smiled, faintly.
> "Because even if I'm the one who burns… I still wanted you to remember that I loved you freely."
---
The word hit me hard.
> Loved.
Not past tense.
Present.
Maybe even forever.
---
"You think that makes this easier?" I asked, voice breaking. "That I get to live with choosing who suffers?"
> "No," he said gently. "But at least now, you know the cost."
---
Behind me, a sound.
Julian's voice.
> "Then let her know the other side, too."
---
I turned.
He stood at the opposite end of the corridor.
I had no idea how long he'd been there.
His eyes locked on Theo.
> "I wasn't supposed to hear this. But I did."
> "And you don't get to decide the narrative just because you showed up first."
---
Theo didn't flinch.
Julian walked toward us.
> "She was always going to remember you," Julian said. "You were always going to be part of this. But you don't get to decide she's yours because of a bond made under duress."
> "Neither do you," Theo shot back. "You were chosen by the council. You were meant to replace me."
> "And yet, I didn't," Julian said, voice rising. "Because I loved her without a ritual. Without memory. Without being assigned."
---
I stepped between them.
"Stop it."
They did.
Not because I had power — but because I had the one thing they both wanted.
A choice.
---
"I don't want to choose based on guilt," I whispered. "I don't want to choose based on who burns and who survives. That's not love. That's war."
> "Then what is love?" Theo asked softly.
I turned to him.
> "Love is knowing I can lose you… and still staying."
I turned to Julian.
> "Love is trusting that even when I break, you won't let me shatter."
> "But if the Book forces my hand—"
> "We'll break the Book," Julian said.
> "We'll rewrite it," Theo added.
> "Together?" I asked, stunned.
They nodded.
> "We'd rather both burn together than lose you alone."
---
That's when the Book opened.
In my bag.
On its own.
Pages fluttering wildly.
Until it stopped on a single one.
Blank.
Except for one word:
> Elena.
---
And then, under it—
Another word formed.
> Choose.
---
I stood there.
Between two boys.
Two bonds.
Two futures.
And I did the only thing I could do.
I dropped the Book to the floor.
I pulled the Hollow Thread from my pocket.
And I stabbed it into the page.
---
The Book screamed.
Not aloud — but through the walls, the floor, the very bones of Ravencroft.
The lights shattered.
The corridor darkened.
The candles flared.
And in the silence that followed—
The page caught fire.
Burned gold.
And vanished.
---
I picked the Book up again.
It was blank.
Completely.
As if I had burned the choice away.
As if I had refused the curse.
---
Julian whispered, stunned, "What did you do?"
Theo took a shaky step forward.
> "You just severed the choice."
> "I don't know what that means yet," I admitted. "But I know this: I refuse to be a pawn in a story written by someone else's fear."
> "I'll write my own thread."
---
The candles re-lit.
The wind returned.
The Book stayed quiet.
But in the silence—
For the first time in days—
I didn't feel cursed.
I felt free.