Chapter 274: The Price of Passage

The mirror pulsed with a dim, unnatural glow as if it were breathing. Kael, Ashara, and Veyna stood before it in silence. The chamber around them was still, the air heavy with tension and unspoken fears. The voice still echoed faintly in their minds:

"To pass, you must surrender what anchors you most."

Ashara took a trembling step forward. Her gaze locked with the obsidian surface, and it shimmered—showing her an image of herself standing in the library of her family estate, clutching a forbidden book. Her father's voice rang in the air: stern, cold, absolute. "You will never disgrace this house again."

She clenched her fists. "I was never free," she whispered. "Always bound to a name I didn't choose." Turning to the others, she added, "If I give up my lineage, I gain nothing… but maybe that's why I must."

She stepped into the mirror. Light flared, and for a moment her form flickered—then she was gone.

Kael and Veyna stared after her.

"I didn't think she'd be the first," Veyna murmured.

Kael nodded. "She has more strength than we give her credit for."

Veyna looked into the mirror next. It didn't hesitate. Images burst to life—her time with the underground resistance, the friends she lost, the promises she failed to keep. One image lingered: a young boy, laughing as he handed her a carved wooden hawk. Her brother.

The laughter turned into screams. Fire consumed everything.

"I never forgave myself," she said. "Not for surviving. Not for forgetting his voice."

She hesitated, her eyes glassy with unshed tears. Then she took a breath, removed the hawk pendant from around her neck, and kissed it.

"Goodbye, Mikael."

She stepped into the mirror. The light embraced her, and then she too vanished.

Kael remained.

The mirror was silent at first. Then, slowly, it began to change. He saw not one vision, but many—so many, they bled together. His childhood in the Sanctum, his departure, the lovers he'd lost, the comrades buried, the cities left in ruin behind him. But one face returned over and over—Seris, his brother.

Seris, with his infectious smile and bright eyes. Seris, who'd been executed because Kael chose the Veil. Because Kael hadn't come back in time.

The mirror whispered:

"Would you give him up… again?"

Kael fell to his knees.

"How many times must I pay for this?" he whispered.

"Until you learn."

Tears burned his eyes. He placed his hand on his heart, where a tiny fragment of Seris's memory remained—etched deep, immovable. His greatest pain… and his last anchor.

He touched the mirror. It rejected him—hard. Magic surged, hurling him back. Pain exploded in his chest.

Kael stood again, staggering, defiant.

"I won't give him up. Not again. But I'll carry him forward. If that's not enough, then I'll break your rules."

He stepped forward—not into the mirror, but beside it.

The entire chamber shook.

A hidden crack in the wall appeared, glowing with the same energy. The Labyrinth groaned.

Kael smirked. "There's always another path."

He walked through.

On the other side, Ashara and Veyna stood in a realm of light and mist—no longer within the maze. But something was wrong.

"Where's Kael?" Ashara asked, alarm rising.

Before Veyna could answer, a rumble came from behind.

The air tore open—Kael stumbled through, blood on his lip, eyes burning with defiance.

"You didn't…" Veyna gasped.

"I chose a third option," Kael said.

The light around them condensed, forming a gateway of crystal and flame. The Forgotten Gate had accepted them—not through blind obedience, but through truth.

And beyond the gate? A world no one remembered.

Not yet.