The fire did not burn. It wrapped around Aria's veins like molten silk, curling through her blood until her body felt too small to hold it. Her scream echoed across the void, breaking and reforming as if the sound itself had split into a thousand voices.
But beneath that scream, another voice rose — smoother, darker, infinitely patient.
Ours now. You're ours.
Aria staggered back, clutching her chest, but there was no escape. The reflection's hand was still twined with hers, their fingers fused by violet flame. She tried to pull away, but her own flesh refused her. Her arm refused her.
Her reflection only smiled, the same face, the same lips, but sharper now, gleaming with cruel satisfaction.
"Why do you struggle?" the reflection whispered. "You begged to be seen. You begged to be more than a pawn. And now you are. Don't you feel it?"
The void shifted around her, the cracked glass floor rippling like water. From its depths rose visions — shards of the world, fragments of memory, twisting into promises.
She saw herself seated on a throne carved of bone and flame, ten crowns scattered at her feet. She saw the kings kneeling, not in defiance but in worship, each gaze burning with devotion and surrender. She saw her own lips curving into a smile, blood-red and merciless.
Her pulse thundered.
The reflection leaned close, her mouth brushing against Aria's ear.
"They will betray you. One by one, they will break. But I will not. I am you. I will never leave you."
The warmth of the whisper slid down her spine like silk — and yet her stomach churned with dread.
Aria's thoughts clawed for escape, but the voice inside her only grew louder, wrapping around her heartbeat like chains.
Think of what they've done, it murmured. Dragging you between them like a prize, arguing over who owns you. You are not theirs. You never were.
Her knees buckled, and she collapsed onto the shifting glass. When her palms hit the surface, it rippled outward, showing her more visions.
The Frostlands King's blade dripping with her blood.
The Crimson King holding her throat, fire in his eyes.
The Solar King's lips murmuring false vows as he placed a collar of gold around her neck.
Her breath hitched — because none of those things had happened. And yet, they felt too real, too possible, as if the reflection had peeled away a curtain and shown her the future.
She pressed her hands to her ears, but the visions whispered anyway.
"They will destroy you. Unless you destroy them first."
The void darkened. Stars winked out, one by one, until she stood in utter blackness. Only the violet fire from her veins lit the space, painting her reflection in ghostly hues.
The reflection knelt before her now, like a shadow queen offering allegiance.
"Take it," she urged, holding out a crown wrought from living flame. Its edges writhed like serpents, its jewels pulsed like beating hearts.
"This is yours. Not theirs. Yours. Put it on, and you will never bow again."
Aria's breath came fast, shallow, her fingers trembling as she reached. The fire called to her, begged her, promised her everything.
But the moment her hand brushed the crown, she heard another voice — faint, desperate, breaking through the void like sunlight through storm clouds.
Aria!
Her head snapped up. For a heartbeat, she swore she saw the Verdant King's eyes, emerald bright, pressing through the cracks of the void.
The reflection's smile sharpened.
"Lies. Illusions. Don't listen."
But the voice came again — stronger this time.
Aria, fight it. Don't let her take you.
Her chest squeezed. A tear burned at the corner of her eye.
"Why should I fight?" she whispered aloud, her voice trembling. "Why should I go back to being weak?"
The reflection's smile softened — no cruelty, only pity. She reached up, brushing Aria's cheek with burning fingers that did not hurt.
"Because weakness is all they will ever allow you to be. But here… here, you are eternal."
The void trembled violently. A fissure split through the darkness, and light seared into the space, spilling across the floor. The crack yawned wide, revealing the kings' silhouettes as they battled the shadow outside.
Aria gasped, reaching toward them, her heart lurching.
But her reflection seized her wrist, dragging her back.
"They will never save you. They cannot." Her eyes blazed with fury now, violet fire erupting from her skin. "Choose me. Choose us. Or you will be torn apart between them forever."
Aria's body shook, torn between the burning grip of her reflection and the faint, distant voices calling her name through the crack of light.
Her hand stretched outward, caught between salvation and surrender.
The crown still hovered inches away, pulsing, waiting. The reflection pressed closer, her forehead against Aria's, her voice low and intoxicating.
"You already know the truth. Stop resisting it. Stop clinging to them. We are not their prize. We are their end."
Aria's lips trembled. Her breath caught. The fire surged so high she thought it might devour her.
And then, from the fissure of light, she heard a sound that shattered her resolve.
Her name. Spoken not in command. Not in desperation. But in fear.
Aria… please.
Her eyes widened. That voice — it was the Frostlands King.
Her reflection hissed, baring her teeth like an animal. "He lies! He wants you chained! He will freeze you into nothing!"
But for the first time, Aria wasn't sure. The fear in his voice had sounded real. Too real.
Her reflection tightened her grip, her nails biting into Aria's skin, drawing blood that burned violet as it hit the glass.
"Choose, Aria. Me… or them."
Aria's hand hovered above the crown, her reflection's fire binding her, while the kings' voices cracked through the fissure of light. In the next breath, she would have to choose — to embrace the power that promised freedom, or the bonds that might destroy her.