The Mark Beneath the Ash

The first thing Elira felt was cold.

Not the kind that prickled at the skin or made her shiver.

This was deeper.

Hollow.

Like something warm and alive inside her had vanished—and left only silence behind.

She didn't open her eyes at first. Couldn't. Her body felt wrong—too light, too far away. When she tried to move, the world tilted sideways. Her limbs didn't answer the way they used to. And her magic—

Gods, her magic—

It pulsed beneath her skin like something caged. Coiled. Watching.

No longer hers.

She heard voices through the fog first.

"…She's breathing?"

"Barely. Her pulse is spiking."

Kael.

Mira.

Elira forced her eyes open.

The ceiling above her was cracked stone, veined with old magic.

She was back in the Temple chamber.

But something was wrong.

Kael leaned over her, breath catching when he saw her stir. "Elira," he whispered, voice thick with relief. "Thank the stars."

His hand hovered inches above her shoulder, trembling slightly. His face was drawn—eyes rimmed red, hair tousled like he hadn't slept. He looked like he'd aged days in mere hours.

Behind him, Mira frowned. Her gaze was sharp, calculating.

"Her aura," Mira said slowly, "is… wrong."

Elira tried to speak, but her throat burned. She coughed—dry, sharp, as if she'd swallowed ash.

"I—" Her voice cracked. "How long?"

"Two days," Kael said. "You've been unconscious since you came out of the mirror."

Mirror.

The word hit her like a falling blade.

The Queen. The King. The bargain.

She tried to sit up.

Mira stopped her with a firm hand on her shoulder. "Easy. You're not stable yet."

Elira swatted her off. "I'm fine."

"You're not," Mira said flatly.

Elira looked down.

Her skin was pale—too pale. Her veins glowed faintly beneath the surface, not with her usual violet light… but gold.

And just below her collarbone, where her pendant used to rest—

A mark.

Twisting. Ancient. Wrong.

Elira's fingers brushed it.

It tingled.

Like it was waiting.

Mira stepped closer, eyes fixed. "Do you know what that is?"

Elira shook her head. "No. Do you?"

Mira hesitated. Looked at Kael.

He didn't meet her gaze.

Later that night, Elira sat alone in the small chamber Kael had arranged for her—tucked deep beneath the Temple, where the walls were thick and the air always smelled faintly of salt and smoke.

A single crystal floated overhead, casting soft light.

She hadn't spoken in hours.

Her magic was... worse now. Wild. Untethered. She could feel it stirring beneath her skin like a second heart. One flick of her wrist earlier and a mirror had shattered. A breath too sharp, and the bed linens had caught fire.

It was like holding a weapon with no grip.

It didn't feel like her anymore.

She stood in front of what was left of the mirror, trying not to look at herself—but failing. Her reflection stared back, golden-eyed and foreign.

Not the girl who'd entered the mirror.

Not the Queen's heir.

Not even Elira.

Just... something wearing her face.

Her fingers curled around the edge of the basin. Her voice was hoarse when she spoke to no one.

"What did you leave inside me?"

In the corridor outside, Mira stood silent, arms folded.

She hadn't left the chamber for hours. Couldn't.

She knew that look on Elira's face.

Not fear.

Recognition.

And that mark…

It wasn't just any sigil. Mira had seen it once, in a forbidden tome buried beneath the Eastern Spire. Drawn in blood, scrawled beside a warning: The King's Claim. Irrevocable. Irremovable.

A brand.

Not just of ownership—but of connection.

Which meant…

He had touched her.

Inside the mirror.

And Elira didn't even know.

Mira turned sharply and stormed down the steps toward the Temple's lower sanctum.

She needed answers.

And Kael owed her more than silence.

Kael was already down there—standing in the shadowed sanctum, speaking to the one man Mira least trusted.

Eryx.

He lounged on a bench carved into the stone wall, his expression maddeningly relaxed. A king in waiting. A traitor with time to kill.

"You got her back," Kael said, fists clenched.

Eryx smirked. "Yes. You're welcome."

"She's... not the same."

"Of course she's not," Eryx said. "You don't waltz through a cursed realm built to imprison a god and come back unchanged."

Kael's pacing sharpened. "What did you do to her?"

"I didn't touch her," Eryx said, gaze flicking up lazily. "That mark? That's not mine."

Kael froze. "The Undying King."

Eryx gave a slow nod. "He reached through the mirror. Branded her. Like a coin in the fire."

"You said she'd be safe—"

"I said I'd bring her back."

Kael lunged.

Fisted Eryx by the collar and slammed him against the wall.

"If she's cursed—"

"I didn't curse her," Eryx said coldly. "He did."

Kael's grip shook. "What's the price?"

Eryx's smirk deepened.

"I already collected."

Elira didn't sleep.

She tried.

But the moment she closed her eyes, the world roared.

Not with dreams.

With voices.

The Queen's screams. The King's laughter. Words in languages she didn't know. Names she'd never spoken.

She jolted awake, drenched in sweat. Her sheets smoldered. Her hands sparked gold.

And the mark on her chest—

It throbbed.

Her breath caught. Her heart raced.

She wasn't unraveling.

She was splitting.

Mira found her at dawn.

Her eyes were bloodshot. Her skin glowed faintly.

"We're testing your magic," Mira said without preamble.

Elira blinked at her. "What?"

"We need to understand what's happening."

"I said I'm fine."

"No, Elira," Mira said sharply. "You're not."

They walked together into the reinforced spell chamber beneath the Temple—obsidian walls laced with runes, spell catchers along the floor, silence wards carved into every stone.

Kael was already there, standing near the far wall. He didn't look at her.

"Let's begin," Mira said. "Start small. Light flare."

Elira raised her hand.

Focused.

Light. Just light.

But—

The flare exploded.

Not light.

Fire.

Violent. Screaming. It lashed toward the ceiling, slammed into the rune crystal, and shattered it into shards.

Kael dove to the side just as Mira shoved him away.

"Elira, STOP!"

Elira yanked her hand back.

The fire vanished.

But her fingers were scorched.

And her eyes glowed too bright.

"I—I didn't mean—"

Kael was already at her side. "It's okay."

"No," Mira said coldly, stepping between them. "It's not."

She turned to Elira, her expression unflinching.

"That wasn't your magic."

Elira's stomach dropped. "What are you talking about?"

"There were two sources in that fire. Yours... and his."

Elira's hands shook. "The King?"

Mira nodded once.

"No," Elira whispered. "That's not possible."

"You went into the mirror. He reached for you. He branded you."

"No," she repeated, louder this time. "I would feel it. I would know—"

"Would you?" Mira's voice softened, almost pitying. "Because that magic just tried to kill us."

Elira backed away, her chest tight, vision spinning.

Then she turned.

And fled.

She ran until her legs gave out, collapsing behind the Temple where the cliffs dropped into mist. She fell to her knees, fingers clawing the dirt, breath ragged.

Her magic pulsed in her ears.

Her blood felt wrong.

And then—

She heard it.

A voice.

Not hers.

Not the Queen's.

"You will burn them all."

Kael found her an hour later.

She sat with her knees tucked to her chest, eyes glassy. Her magic shimmered faintly in the air like a mirage.

"Elira," he said gently.

She didn't look at him.

"Did you know?" she asked.

Kael blinked. "What?"

She turned her head. Her gaze was ice.

"The mark. Did you know it was from him?"

He hesitated.

"Elira—"

"Did you know?"

His silence was answer enough.

"Yes," he said finally.

Her breath caught.

"You let him brand me?"

"I didn't let anything happen. I did what I had to—"

"What did he take?" she asked, voice shaking. "What did you trade for me?"

Kael didn't answer.

She stood slowly.

Walked past him without a word.

The air rippled around her. The mark on her chest burned gold.

Behind her, Kael stood alone, the wind catching his hair.

He whispered to the silence, "I'll fix this."

But the wind didn't believe him.

And neither did she.