The morning after the storm felt quiet—too quiet. The air around the castle was heavy, and even the birds seemed afraid to sing. Ella woke to the sound of wind brushing softly against her window. Her dreams had been strange again—filled with shadows, whispers, and flashes of blue fire. Each time she woke, she felt as though someone had been standing right beside her bed, watching.
She sat up and rubbed her eyes. Her body ached from training, but her spirit burned with new strength. The memory of the last battle still lingered in her mind—the power that had risen from deep inside her, wild and fierce, like something ancient had finally recognized her.
For a moment, she stared at her hands. The same hands that had once struggled to hold a wooden practice staff now shimmered faintly, as though her blood remembered something her mind had yet to learn.
A soft knock came from her door.
"Come in," Ella said, her voice still tired.
Lyra stepped in, smiling. Her golden hair was braided neatly, and her bright green eyes were full of warmth. "You look like you've seen a ghost," she teased, sitting on the edge of the bed.
"I might have," Ella said with a weak laugh. "My dreams won't stop showing me things… things that feel real."
Lyra frowned. "What kind of things?"
"Faces I don't know. A woman calling my name. Fire. And a voice saying, 'Find the heart before it's too late.'"
Lyra tilted her head. "The heart?"
Ella nodded. "I don't know what it means, but it feels important."
Lyra placed a hand on her shoulder. "Then we'll find out together. Whatever this bloodline of yours is hiding, it's not going to scare us away."
Ella smiled softly. She was grateful for Lyra's loyalty. From the moment they had met, Lyra had been like the sister she never had—kind, brave, and unafraid of danger. Together, they had faced monsters, illusions, and betrayal. But this… this felt different.
Before they could say more, a loud knock echoed through the hall. A royal guard entered, bowing quickly. "Lady Ella, the Queen requests your presence in the Hall of Mirrors."
Ella exchanged a look with Lyra. The Hall of Mirrors was rarely used. It was said to be built with enchanted glass that revealed truth—whether you wanted it or not.
"I'll go," Ella said firmly. "Wait for me here."
Lyra nodded, though worry clouded her face.
The walk through the castle corridors felt endless. Candles flickered as Ella passed, and every reflection she saw seemed slightly delayed, like the mirror world lagged behind reality. By the time she reached the Hall of Mirrors, her heartbeat was racing.
The great silver doors creaked open. The Queen stood at the far end, dressed in deep blue robes that shimmered like water. Her expression was calm, but her eyes—those sharp, clever eyes—watched Ella too closely.
"You called for me, Your Majesty?" Ella said, bowing.
"Yes, my dear." The Queen's voice was gentle but held an edge of command. "You've been keeping secrets from the crown."
Ella froze. "Secrets?"
The Queen turned toward one of the mirrors. The glass rippled, and suddenly, an image appeared—Ella, standing in the windmill with Maeve, holding the glowing box.
Ella's blood ran cold.
"I see your surprise," the Queen said softly. "You think the eyes of the kingdom cannot reach beyond these walls? You have much to learn."
Ella clenched her fists. "Maeve told me the truth about my bloodline. You knew, didn't you? You knew what I am."
The Queen's lips curved slightly, neither a smile nor a frown. "What you are, Ella, is dangerous. That blood you carry—once it awakens fully, it could burn this entire kingdom to ash."
Ella stepped forward. "I would never hurt this kingdom. I've fought to protect it."
"And yet," the Queen said, raising a hand toward the mirror, "your power grows stronger by the day. The darkness is drawn to it. Even now, enemies rise because of what flows through your veins."
The mirrors began to shimmer. Dozens of reflections of Ella filled the room—some looking brave, others afraid, and one… one that smiled cruelly.
"What is this?" Ella whispered.
"The truth," the Queen replied. "Every power has a shadow. Every light creates its own darkness. What will you do, Ella, when your own power turns against you?"
The room trembled, and Ella's reflections began to move on their own. One by one, they stepped out of the mirrors, their eyes glowing faintly.
Panic surged through Ella's chest. "No…"
"Control it," the Queen said sharply. "If you cannot master your reflection, you cannot master your destiny."
The copies surrounded her, whispering words she couldn't understand. She tried to fight back, throwing a burst of magic—but each reflection mirrored her move, their power doubling hers.
Her knees hit the floor. Her energy was slipping.
Then, a soft voice echoed in her mind. It was Maeve's.
"The power inside you listens to your heart, not your fear."
Ella closed her eyes. She let the noise fade, let her fear sink away. In the silence, she reached for the steady rhythm of her heartbeat—the same pulse that had always guided her magic.
When she opened her eyes again, light poured from her hands—not wild and angry, but calm and golden. The reflections stopped moving. One by one, they dissolved back into glass, leaving only her standing in the center.
The Queen watched in silence, then slowly nodded. "Good. You are learning."
Ella took a deep breath, her whole body trembling. "What was that?"
"A test," the Queen said. "And a warning. Your bloodline was powerful enough to build empires… and destroy them. You must decide which you will do."
Ella met her gaze. "I choose to protect this kingdom."
"Then prepare yourself," the Queen said. "Because the storm is coming, and not all will stand beside you when it breaks."
That night, Ella returned to her chamber, exhausted. Lyra was waiting, pacing the floor.
"Well?" Lyra asked quickly. "What happened?"
Ella sank into the chair by the window. "The Queen tested me. She showed me things—my reflections, my power. Lyra… it was like looking at a part of myself I didn't know existed."
Lyra knelt beside her. "And what did you see?"
"Someone strong," Ella said slowly. "But also someone dangerous."
Lyra touched her hand. "You're not dangerous, Ella. You're the reason we still have hope."
Outside, the moon rose high, casting silver light through the glass. But in that gentle light, Ella noticed something strange—her shadow was no longer still. It moved slightly, a heartbeat slower than her.
A chill ran through her.
"Lyra," she whispered, "promise me something."
"Anything."
"If I ever lose control… if the power inside me ever becomes too much… stop me."
Lyra shook her head. "Don't talk like that."
"Promise me," Ella insisted, her voice shaking.
After a long moment, Lyra nodded. "I promise."
Ella smiled faintly, though her eyes were sad. "Thank you."
As the two girls sat together in the quiet, a cold wind brushed through the room. Somewhere in the distance, thunder rumbled softly. The storm the Queen had spoken of was coming.
And this time, it wasn't just outside—it was inside Ella's very blood.