Lilitha_Ntlebi

In a world where mirrors whisper prophecy and fire remembers everything, two souls must choose between power and peace—before the last crown reignites.

The ancient mirrors—once shattered to save the world—have begun to awaken.

Talen, a reluctant heir with a mysterious past, and Lira, a fierce flame-binder with no kingdom to serve, are drawn into a quest to recover the seven mirrors of power. Each mirror reveals not only magic, but devastating truths—about the world's forgotten history, and about themselves.

As storms ignite, fortresses burn, and visions of the past twist into possible futures, Talen and Lira must confront the cost of memory and the seduction of destiny. With every shard they reclaim, the Crownfire stirs—an ancient force that doesn’t seek a ruler, but a vessel.

But what if the only way to save the world… is to refuse to lead it?

In the gripping fourth installment of Crown of Cinders, battles are no longer just fought with swords or flame—but with the truth, with grief, and with the power to walk away.

The fire never sleeps.
But perhaps, it can finally rest.

Crown of Cinders

Chapter Thirty-Two: Lira's Mirror

The mirror Lira had sketched, line for line, was the same one from his dream. The same golden frame, the same curvature of the glass. There were even the small symbols carved into the edges—sigils he hadn't known he remembered until he saw her drawing.

"You've seen it too," she said softly.

"Yes," Talen replied. "In a dream."

She set the charcoal down and met his eyes.

"I didn't dream it. I saw it when I was still inside the mountain… before Nyra brought me out."

He swallowed hard. "You never told her?"

Lira looked away. "She had already given so much. I didn't want to give her a reason to go back."

They sat beneath the ash tree, breeze shifting through the orchard, and stared down at the mirror sketch between them. Neither spoke for several minutes.

Talen finally asked, "What is it?"

"I don't know," she said. "But I think it remembers us. Like the Vault did."

Lira hesitated. "Because something's changed."

Back in the study tower, Nyra sat at her desk, gazing out at the hills that had long protected them. But now even the peace unsettled her. She couldn't name why.

Just stepped forward and placed the mirror sketch on her desk.

For a moment, Nyra didn't breathe.

"Where did you get this?" she asked, already knowing the answer.

Talen said, "We saw it. Not in the same place. But the same feeling. The same silence."

Nyra looked at both of them. "It's not from the Crown Below. It predates it."

Talen leaned forward. "Then what is it?"

"It's one of the Seven Sights. Reflections that were sealed when the old gods fell silent."

"We only named four before the fire consumed the records. The Mirror was always considered the most dangerous… because it doesn't show what you are. It shows what you might still become."

Talen stood beside her in the dream-world—within a marble corridor lit by no torches, only the pulsing reflection of the mirror at its end.

Same breath. Same sweat. Same name on their lips.

Nyra, awakened by the pull in her chest—the one she'd tried to forget—stood by her window.

She whispered the name to the wind.