The storm was gone, but its scent still clung to the stones of the Academy. Dawn had barely touched the eastern towers when Rin woke with a jolt.
Something wasn't right.
She sat upright in bed, her breath sharp and cold. Not from fear—but from presence. Something brushed her consciousness. A whisper, not in her ears, but in her bones.
"Come below."
She looked around. Her dormitory was empty. Lyra's bed was untouched—unsurprising after last night's trial. Yet the whisper pressed again, clearer this time.
"Below the Archive. Where the Veil thins."
Her fingers twitched. She didn't recognize the voice. It wasn't Kael's. It wasn't Lyra's. But it felt… ancient. Like it had waited a long time to speak.
She dressed in silence and left her room, moving like a ghost through corridors still heavy with sleep. The torches hadn't been rekindled. Only moonlight guided her path, silver against stone.
She passed through the Archive, now guarded by layered wards. But something odd happened as she approached.
The glyphs shimmered… and parted.
No resistance. No challenge.
As if something wanted her inside.
Rin descended the spiral staircase behind the scroll vault, deeper than she'd ever gone. Dust choked the air. The walls were marked by old clawings—script half-erased by time and sealed by waxes long dry.
At the bottom: a door of veined black glass.
And behind it… a thin, whispering sound. Not words this time. A melody. Sad, distant, but alluring.
She reached out.
The door opened without a touch.
Inside was a circular chamber, stone walls inlaid with silver spirals that danced faintly in the light of her flame. At the center stood a mirror—tall, cracked, framed in bone.
Rin stepped forward slowly.
The mirror's surface rippled.
Her reflection looked back… but it wasn't quite her.
Its eyes were darker. The flame behind them hungered.
"Who are you?" Rin whispered.
The reflection smiled.
"The part they sealed."
A flash of light tore across the mirror. Flames surged around the room. Rin screamed, shielding herself—but when she opened her eyes, the flames weren't burning her.
They wrapped around her arms like living chains—black and crimson, with no heat but endless pressure.
And the reflection was gone.
In its place, another figure stood within the mirror.
Tall. Robed in obsidian threads. His face veiled in ash. A rune burned in his chest—her rune.
The voice came again. Not from the mirror. From within.
"You are not the first, Rin Flameborn. And you will not be the last. They fear you for good reason."
She tried to step back. The chains pulled tighter.
"What do you want from me?"
The mirror dimmed. Only the eyes of the figure remained—burning stars in a sea of void.
"Remember."
Then the mirror shattered.
Rin collapsed to the floor, gasping.
The chains were gone. The mirror was gone.
Only her—and a single glyph, newly etched into the floor where the mirror once stood.
Obsidian Flame.
Magisterium Hall – Midmorning
Headmistress Selene stood at the apex of the Magisterium's gathering circle. Her usual composed air was strained, the creases of her eyes deeper, her tone sharper.
"Last night, the wards beneath the Archive failed."
Gasps rippled through the gathered instructors.
"Only for thirty seconds," she continued. "But it was enough. The Veil was touched."
Magister Helvar stepped forward. "You think it was the girl?"
"No," Selene replied. "She may have been called—but the mirror chose to awaken. That is not something even Kael could have arranged."
Another magister, younger, with sapphire inlays etched into her collar, leaned forward. "Should we seal it again?"
Selene shook her head. "No. We observe. If the Obsidian Flame is returning, we must let it burn—for now."
Helvar's face was unreadable, but beneath his sleeves, his fingers curled.
Soon, he thought.
The Practice Yard – Afternoon
Lyra waited near the edge of the yard, leaning against a stone pillar, eyes trained on the door Rin would come through.
She hadn't seen her since the Crucible. Part of her wanted to ask if she was alright. The other part—sharper, colder—wanted to know what she was.
When Rin finally appeared, her steps were slower. Her face pale. But her eyes… her eyes were no longer just hers.
"You look like you saw death," Lyra said, trying for calm.
"I did," Rin replied. "He had my face."
Lyra straightened. "You went below the Archive."
"I didn't mean to."
"That doesn't matter," Lyra said quietly. "They'll know. They always know."
"I'm done running," Rin said.
Then Kael's voice echoed across the yard. "Good. Because your next trial isn't a duel."
They turned to see him approaching, his coat flaring in the breeze.
He held a small box in his hands. Ironwood, sealed with mana thread.
He opened it.
Inside lay a coal-black shard, flickering with dying flame.
Kael looked at both girls.
"This is a fragment of the Ashbrand. The weapon of the last Flamebearer. It only responds to those touched by the true fire. You must awaken it."
Lyra looked uncertain. Rin's breath caught.
"And if it awakens?" Rin asked.
Kael closed the box.
"Then the war is no longer coming."
He looked to the distant sky.
"It has already begun."