The Door That Opens

The scream still rang in Lisa's ears long after it left her throat.

Syra didn't speak,couldn't but her frightened eyes said enough. She held Lisa's hands tightly, her own fingers trembling as if she, too, had felt the vision crack the air between them.

Lisa clutched her chest. The memory of the woman in the fire,the mirror image of herself, twisted and cruel—lingered like smoke in her lungs.

She didn't understand what she was. But someone out there did.

And they were coming.

⸻

By dawn, the rain had turned to mist, curling around the towers of Bellflower like fingers. The castle woke slowly, as if it too sensed something unnatural in the air.

Lisa dressed in silence. She didn't summon Lydia. She didn't need gowns or braids or politeness.

She needed answers.

She left Syra sleeping and made her way through the eastern halls, her footsteps light and certain. She didn't notice the two guards who followed her from a distance or perhaps she did, and simply didn't care.

The visions were getting worse.

The time for pretending was ending.

⸻

In the lower war room, Leonard stood over a map of the kingdom. Pins marked the borderlands. Some were missing.

Caelum leaned against the wall, arms crossed, while Hadley sat at the edge of the table, pale and tense.

"You didn't tell me about the prophecy," Leonard said, voice low.

Caelum didn't blink. "We only heard the words once. And only half of them made sense."

"Half is enough." He jabbed a pin into the map with unnecessary force. "The seer spoke of a sister. A shadow. Someone like Lisa."

Hadley shifted. "A reflection, maybe. Not blood. A witch created to mimic her. Or an heir from her mother's line. The mark on Syra's shoulder is from the same magic."

Leonard stared at the map. "I need to speak to the Oracles in Grellin Valley."

"You hate the Oracles," Hadley said softly.

"I hate what I don't understand more."

Footsteps interrupted them. Lisa.

She stepped into the room without being summoned, eyes fierce despite the exhaustion in her face.

"You want to know what I saw?" she asked.

Leonard turned. His jaw clenched.

"You're not supposed to be here."

"I'm tired of being where I'm supposed to be."

Caelum snorted faintly, but said nothing.

Lisa took a deep breath. "I saw someone in the fire. A woman who looked like me. But wrong. She wore a crown and smiled like the world belonged to her. Behind her was an army. Witches. Beasts."

Hadley went still.

Caelum narrowed his eyes. "She wore a crown?"

Lisa nodded.

Leonard asked the next question too carefully. "Was it silver?"

"Yes."

Silence fell.

Then Leonard spoke. "There's a prophecy... that if a key is born of fire and shadow, she will open the door to the lost ones,the cursed. And the crown of Bellflower will split in two. One to rule. One to destroy."

Lisa stared. "So... I'm both?"

Leonard didn't answer.

⸻

Later that day, Rhys found Elyra again.

They met in the catacombs, beneath the old chapel ruins. No one came here anymore. It reeked of rot and forgotten prayers.

"She's having visions," he said without greeting.

Elyra was already lighting a lantern. "They've begun."

"What is she?"

Elyra hesitated. "Something the witches once feared. And something they wanted to create."

Rhys frowned. "You're not making sense."

"The witches tried to create vessels. Carriers of pure magic. They failed... until now."

"Lisa wasn't created."

"She was born. But born with something inside her that shouldn't exist anymore. Something that can awaken or... destroy."

Rhys stepped closer. "And you're sure it's her?"

Elyra looked up at him, eyes unreadable. "I'm sure it's not me."

⸻

That night, a visitor arrived at the castle under moonlight.

A lone rider. Cloaked. Hooded. Their horse bled from its hooves.

The guards stopped them, swords drawn.

But the figure raised a hand.

A sigil burned across the air.

Old magic.

Before anyone could act, the rider collapsed.

When they removed the hood, the woman underneath was barely alive,her lips cracked, her skin marked by witch sigils, her mouth sewn shut.

She held a torn parchment in her hand.

Hadley received it in the infirmary and took it straight to Leonard.

He unfolded it carefully.

It was a map.

A crude drawing of Bellflower Castle.

And one word beneath it:

"Awaken."

Leonard's blood ran cold.

⸻

Lisa didn't sleep that night.

She stood at the tower again, Syra beside her. Rain tapped the glass like whispers.

She touched the mark on Syra's shoulder again, and it glowed faintly, pulsing in sync with her heartbeat.

"We're being hunted," Lisa said quietly.

Syra didn't nod.

She just took Lisa's hand.

And this time...

Lisa saw more.

Not just visions.

Memories.

Syra's.

A forest burned. A woman screaming. A child ripped from her arms.

A sister hidden.

A curse spoken.

And a name...

One Lisa didn't recognize.

Azelith.

Then it vanished.

Lisa staggered back. "Who... was that?"

Syra touched her own chest. Then pointed at Lisa.

"No," Lisa whispered. "You can't mean..."

Syra stepped forward and pointed again.

Then she drew a line across her own neck.

Lisa stared at her.

"You were meant to die in my place."

Syra looked away.

And that was when Lisa understood—

This had all started long before the witches came.

Before Leonard.

Before Bellflower.

Before the crown.

Before she was even born.

The storm outside cracked with thunder.

And the wind, it whispered a new name.

Azelith has risen.