The Mirror Remembers

The silence of the Temple felt deeper than before, as if the walls themselves were holding their breath.

Elira stood before the cracked mirror in her chamber—the same one that used to reflect her strength, her certainty, her sense of self. Now, it showed something else. Something… broken.

Golden eyes stared back at her. Not violet. Not hers.

"I don't recognize myself," she whispered, fingertips brushing the mark etched below her collarbone. It pulsed faintly—no pain, no searing heat. Just… presence. Like something alive and waiting beneath her skin.

In the quiet of her mind, his voice stirred again.

You were always meant to carry me.

Hours earlier, she'd woken choking on a dream—fire pouring from her throat like breath. Kael had come running. She'd pushed him away.

Not in anger.

In fear.

Fear of what she might do. Of what she might become.

Since the mirror, something had shifted. And it wasn't just the mark. It was her.

In the Temple's inner sanctum, Mira slammed a weathered tome onto the council table.

"The mark she bears—it's not just a curse," she snapped at Kael. "It's a seal. A half-formed tether to the Undying King."

Kael didn't flinch.

"She hasn't turned," he said quietly. "She's still fighting it."

"She thinks she is," Mira bit out. "But if that seal finishes forming, there won't be an Elira left to fight anything."

His hand curled into a fist. "Then we stop it."

"Not if she keeps hiding. Not if you keep hiding things from her."

Kael didn't answer.

Because she was right.

He hadn't told Elira about the Blood Key—the forbidden artifact he'd traded to Eryx in exchange for pulling her from the mirror realm. He hadn't told her the ritual might've done more than just open a doorway.

It might've invited the King inside.

And now, Elira was wearing that invitation like a crown.

Back in her room, Elira sat cross-legged on the floor, trying to meditate. Trying to find stillness.

But the magic wouldn't settle.

The air vibrated. Dust danced on the shelves. Her heartbeat thundered in her ears. Her fingers wouldn't stop shaking.

She whispered a warding spell under her breath.

It detonated.

The force cracked the floor. Blackened the walls. Her breath caught as her palms blistered from the heat.

Inside her, something screamed.

Let go. Let go. Let go.

She shoved her hands over her ears.

"No," she whispered, voice trembling. "I'm not your vessel. I'm not your puppet."

Her magic surged in protest.

The mirror cracked again.

That evening, Kael found her outside the Hall of Fire. The wind toyed with the edge of her cloak like it knew her better than anyone else.

"Elira," he said softly.

She didn't turn.

"Do you ever wonder what it feels like," she murmured, "to vanish while still standing?"

He stepped beside her. "You haven't vanished."

She looked at him then. Her eyes blazed gold. "Haven't I?"

"Elira—"

"Don't." Her voice broke. "Don't tell me it's going to be okay. Don't tell me to keep holding on. I am holding on. And it's tearing me apart."

Kael's jaw clenched. "I found something. A ritual. It might sever the bond."

She studied his face.

"What did it cost you?"

He looked away.

"Kael."

His voice was low. "I gave Eryx the Blood Key."

Silence fell like a stone between them.

"You—what?"

"I needed to get you back. I didn't think—"

"You never think," she whispered. "You just decide."

"Elira—"

"You might have doomed all of us."

She turned before he could answer.

Far beneath them, Mira stood alone in the vaults.

She unrolled a forgotten scroll pulled from the Queen's hidden archive. The parchment was brittle, the ink alive—flickering between black and deep crimson.

A prophecy.

When the starborn queen breaks her chain, fire shall walk the earth in gold.She who was vessel shall become flame.The world shall bow… or burn.

Mira's breath caught.

Elira wasn't just cursed.

She was the prophecy.

That night, Elira startled awake.

Not from a dream—but from a sound.

Whispers.

Not in her mind. In her room.

A shadow slid along the far wall.

She threw up a shield on instinct. It cracked and shattered in a burst of fractured light.

A figure stepped into view.

Eryx.

Her voice was raw. "What are you doing here?"

"You're unraveling," he said, calm as ever. "I came to offer help."

"I'd rather die."

He tilted his head. "That can be arranged."

Her magic responded before her mind did—flames roared to life in her hands, licking the ceiling.

Eryx didn't flinch. He raised a talisman—and the fire froze mid-air.

Then fizzled.

He brushed the ashes away with a flick.

"I gave you back your life," he said. "Don't waste it."

"You let him brand me."

"No." His voice was cool. "He did that. I only opened the door."

She took a step toward him, rage sparking in every breath. "I swear—"

"You'll what?" he murmured. "Burn me?"

He leaned in, his voice a whisper against her ear.

"Careful, Princess. You're starting to sound just like him."

At sunrise, Elira stood at the center of the Temple's spell circle.

Mira had arranged the demonstration. One last chance to prove she still had control.

The inner circle watched from behind reinforced barriers.

Kael stood apart, silent.

Elira raised her hands.

The spell was simple. A containment rune. She had cast it a hundred times.

She whispered the words.

For a moment, the magic responded—light gathering cleanly around her fingers.

Then something snapped.

The mark on her chest flared. Her eyes burned.

The magic turned black.

The rune shattered.

The floor exploded beneath her feet.

Screams echoed as the protective barrier cracked. Two mages went down. One bled. The other didn't move.

Elira staggered, gasping. Her skin glowed faintly. Her breath steamed in the cool air.

She'd lost control.

Again.

That night, Kael burst into her chamber.

"You can't stay here."

She didn't look at him.

"You nearly killed people."

"I know."

"I can't protect you anymore."

She turned slowly. Her voice was cold. "You were never supposed to protect me. You were supposed to tell me the truth."

He hesitated. Then murmured, "I don't know if we can save you."

That cut deeper than flame.

She looked away. "Then leave."

She didn't sleep.

She wandered the Temple's dim corridors alone, footsteps silent, heart hollow.

She found herself before the Mirror Gate.

The broken frame still shimmered with residual magic.

She lifted a hand. Pressed her palm to the cold glass.

And heard it.

A whisper.

You want to know who you are?Step inside again.The mirror remembers.