The dawn tastes like rust.
The wind carries whispers from the sea below, low and broken, like the ocean is trying to speak a language it's forgotten.
I rise slowly. My body feels heavier, denser—like every heartbeat is dragging the weight of another soul. The black mark on my wrist hums faintly, pulsing with a rhythm that isn't mine. When I touch it, I feel warmth, almost human.
Kael's warmth.
But Kael is gone.
The temple took him.
And yet... he's still inside me.
The words carved in blood burn in my mind:
"The second key awaits you."
"Where?" I whisper into the cold air.
The wind answers—not with sound, but with motion. It carries sand from the cliff, shaping a faint path through the ruins. I don't hesitate. Whatever force is pulling me forward, I no longer have the luxury of resistance.
Every step toward the mountains feels like walking through someone else's dream. Shadows stretch longer than they should. The sun hides behind smoke that isn't there. When I blink, I see flashes—faces—reflections of people I've killed, each one mouthing something I can't hear.
By nightfall, the world feels thinner.
Like a sheet of glass ready to break.
A fire glows ahead—blue again.
Liora sits beside it, her armor gleaming like molten bone, her eyes reflecting the flames.
"I wondered if you'd wake," she says without turning. "Some don't. The temple doesn't always let its chosen leave."
"I didn't choose it," I reply.
She laughs softly. "Of course you did. You just don't remember why."
"What does that mean?"
She finally faces me. "Tell me, Seraphine... what's the last thing you remember before you found the first temple?"
The question hits harder than it should. I try to recall—the desert, the storm, the voice that led me to the ruins—but beyond that, there's only blur.
Like a memory torn from the page.
"I was... looking for something," I murmur. "A relic. The one that burned me."
Liora nods. "The relic doesn't choose the unworthy. It finds what it already owns."
Her words hang heavy. My stomach twists.
"You're lying," I whisper.
"Am I?" She rises, closing the distance between us. "That mark... it isn't just a seal. It's a bond. You and I are pieces of the same design."
Her fingers brush my wrist. The black veins beneath the skin pulse, reacting to her touch. A wave of warmth rushes through me—too much warmth. I jerk back.
"What are you doing to me?"
"Nothing you didn't start."
Her eyes glow faintly now, twin embers in the dark. "The second key lies beneath the Mirror Citadel. To reach it, you'll need to break the reflection that guards the gate."
"Reflection?" I frown.
"You'll see." Her tone softens. "But when you do, don't trust what you recognize."
We travel together the next day. The landscape warps as we move—the grass whispering in voices, the sky bending like liquid silver. The relic's pull grows stronger, and sometimes, when I glance at Liora, she's already looking back with something close to hunger.
At dusk, we reach it.
The Mirror Citadel.
It rises from the earth like a wound made of glass—towers curved inward, endless reflections folding over one another. Every step echoes twice. Every breath becomes an echo before I make it. The air tastes metallic, like blood and lightning.
Liora halts at the entrance. "Only one of us can go in."
"Why?"
"Because the Citadel feeds on duality. If two reflections enter, one won't return."
She presses a small shard into my palm—a mirror sliver with blood smeared across its edge. "When you see yourself... break it."
Before I can respond, she's gone. The glass doors close behind me.
Inside, silence.
But not emptiness.
The walls ripple with my image—hundreds of me, each one whispering something out of sync. As I move deeper, their mouths begin to match, forming the same word over and over.
"Remember."
I run my fingers across the glass. It's cold at first—then warm, pulsing beneath my touch. The reflection looks back at me with a different expression.
Her eyes are darker. Her smile crueler.
"Who are you?" I whisper.
She smiles wider. "You already know."
Then she steps out of the glass.
Her hand closes around my throat before I can react. The strength in her grip is inhuman.
"I was the first," she says softly. "You're just the echo they built after."
"No..." I choke. "I'm real."
"Are you?" Her grin is sharp as broken crystal. "Then prove it."
She throws me against the mirror, and it shatters into a thousand glowing shards. Blood drips from my shoulder, sizzling on the floor. My double kneels beside me, eyes full of hunger.
"I remember everything you've forgotten," she whispers. "The deal you made. The life you traded. The gods you swore to awaken."
Then she presses her palm to mine—mark against mark—and the black veins merge like ink. Pain floods my body, light bursts behind my eyes—
And I see it.
The moment before the first temple.
The storm.
The voice that promised power.
And me—kneeling before it—saying yes.
I gasp, pulling my hand away, trembling.
But the reflection just laughs. "Now you remember."
Then she dissolves into dust.
The walls collapse into silence.
At my feet lies the second key—a shard of obsidian pulsing with inner fire. I pick it up, and the mark on my wrist flares blood-red again.
Outside, the Citadel shatters behind me as I step into the night.
Liora waits at the cliffs.
Her smile is slow, dangerous.
"You found it," she says. "And now... do you understand what you are?"
I look at her, eyes burning. "I'm the gate."
She nods. "Then the world is already opening."
Above us, the sky splits in half—light spilling like blood across the horizon.
And far beneath, something laughs.