Mirror Man’s Legacy

The Sky After Fire

The sun rose like a slow-burning torch across the fractured mountain skyline. Faint smoke still drifted from the collapsed shrine. The flames had gone, but the mark they left on the world—and on Coker—remained.

He stood at the cliff's edge.

Eyes closed. Wind in his face. Mark glowing like a second heartbeat across his back.

Naia sat near him on a stone, fidgeting with a broken compass.

Lira was asleep under a blue cloak, her hand twitching slightly—dreams, or maybe the voices again.

Elira stood watch, blade sheathed but hand on the hilt.

They were quiet.

For the first time since it all began, no one knew what to say.

Then came the voice.

"You felt it too, didn't you?"

Coker turned. His mark pulsed in reaction—soft, but alert.

It wasn't Elira.

It wasn't Naia.

From the shadow of a crooked pine tree stepped a man in a cracked black coat. His mask—white, plain, with a vertical split down the middle—shone in the morning light.

The Mirror Man.

A Man Who Shouldn't Be

Lira jolted awake.

Naia stood up.

Elira drew her blade.

But the Mirror Man raised both hands slowly.

"If I meant harm, the shrine would've never awakened."

Elira stepped forward, eyes narrowed. "You're not supposed to be real."

He tilted his head.

"Real is a strange thing to say, coming from a girl who carries dead voices."

Coker said nothing.

But he stared into the mask. The mirror slit reflected nothing—but somehow it felt like being watched by a thousand eyes.

Naia: "What do you want?"

"Not want. Share."

He turned his head toward Coker.

"The eighth mark has awakened. The throne has accepted you. That changes everything."

He slowly sat cross-legged on a stone, unbothered.

"I am the fragment of what came before. The one who saw the first rebellion. The one who watched Kael fall. And the one who knows what will try to kill you next."

Truth Under a Mask

The Mirror Man's voice was calm. Measured. Like someone recounting a story they already mourned.

"Do you know what the eight marks truly are?"

Coker shook his head.

"They are sins. Gifts stolen from something older than gods. Kael tried to use them all—and became the flame. But he broke."

Naia: "We know. He shattered the sky."

Mirror Man turned to her.

"He shattered time. The marks loop. They find new bearers. But each time they do… something darker wakes with them."

Lira: "What wakes?"

A pause.

"The Sealed One."

Elira drew in breath sharply.

"I thought that was a myth."

"So did the last ones. Until it ripped their marks from their bones."

A Warning

The Mirror Man stood.

The sky darkened—just slightly. Like something watching from far beyond the clouds.

"Your time is short. The Sealed One stirs. The throne's light burns like a beacon."

He pointed at Coker.

"You've marked yourself as prey. Or king. And both bleed the same."

He walked a few steps forward. From inside his coat, he drew a small, twisted mirror shard—glowing faint blue.

He handed it to Coker.

"This belonged to Kael."

Coker felt its heat. Not warm. Cold, but comforting.

As if Kael had once held it just before dying.

The Mirror Man stepped back.

"When the sky bleeds again, look into it. It will show you who you must become."

Naia: "Wait—where are you going?"

He turned.

"The next shrine lies in the Hollow Valley."

Lira's eyes widened.

"That's cursed land."

"Everything worth awakening is cursed," the Mirror Man replied.

Then he walked into the trees.

Vanished.

The Mirror's Vision

That night, around a small fire, the four sat quietly.

Coker held the mirror shard.

He stared.

And the moment his mark pulsed—

A vision burst through his mind.

Flashback — Kael's Fall

The ground split in flame. Seven Vessels knelt—wounded, burned, screaming.

Kael stood alone, crown half-melted, eyes blazing gold.

His voice echoed across time.

"You wanted balance. I wanted freedom."

Lightning rained from the heavens. A sword of light pierced the sky. Time cracked like glass.

From the darkness came something huge.

A shadow without shape.

A voice.

"You were never meant to live."

Then Kael fell.

And the world forgot his name.

Return to the Present

Coker gasped, clutching his chest.

Naia caught him.

"What did you see?"

He looked up.

The Road to Hollow Valley

Morning again.

They moved quietly through the forest path. Elira scouted ahead. Lira hummed to herself—an old tune none of them knew. Naia carried the broken compass again.

And Coker walked in silence.

The shard was cold in his pocket.

And behind his eyes still burned the final image:

A broken crown…

…and a thousand masks watching from the dark.