The flames from the mirror surrounded them like an inferno, its heat searing through the air. The world spun. Amina's vision blurred, and she stumbled back, instinctively reaching for Ashar. But the flames didn't burn. They pulsed, alive with a strange, ancient energy. Her skin hummed, as if she were being drawn into the very fabric of time itself.
And then, she heard it again.
"Daughter."
Amina's heart skipped a beat. Her breath caught in her throat as the voice called to her once more.
It wasn't just the flames—it was something else, something far older, far more powerful than anything she had ever felt. It was the voice of her mother. The mother she had never truly known.
"Amina." The voice was softer this time, filled with sorrow. "Come closer."
She didn't know how, but her body moved toward the mirror, drawn in by an invisible force. Ashar and the others tried to pull her back, but it was no use. The flames swirled around her, forming a vortex that seemed to separate her from the world she had known. The air grew thick with the scent of ash and something sweet, almost floral, as if the flame itself had a heartbeat.
With every step, the heat grew more intense, but the pain faded. Instead, she felt… comforted. Her mind flashed with memories of the woman she had lost. The brief glimpses of her mother's face—the smile, the laugh, the warmth in her eyes. All these flashes made the ache in her chest deepen.
The flames parted as she approached the mirror. It pulsed again, and in its surface, she saw her reflection. But it wasn't just her face she saw. There, beside her, was a younger version of herself, dressed in white robes, a figure of light. The reflection moved closer, its eyes filled with understanding and an otherworldly sadness.
"You were always meant for more than this," the reflection whispered.
Amina's breath hitched. "Who are you?"
The figure in the mirror smiled faintly. "I am your mother. But I am also… the one who gave birth to this power. The one who bound your fate to this flame. The one who made the ultimate sacrifice."
Amina's legs weakened, and she knelt before the mirror, overwhelmed. "But why? Why did you leave me? Why did you let me grow up alone?"
Her voice cracked. It was a question that had haunted her every day. The absence of her mother. The silence. The unknown.
"I didn't leave you," the figure said softly. "I was taken. You were never meant to live without me. The prophecy said you would rise, and I did what I had to. I sealed myself away, to protect you, to protect the world."
Amina's eyes widened. "You sealed yourself away? But why? Why would you—"
"Because," the figure said, her voice suddenly full of sorrow, "I knew what you were becoming. And I knew what Valec would do if he reached the Flame of Origin. I had to ensure that you would be the one to stop him. I knew it would cost me everything."
Amina's head spun. "What do you mean? How is it possible? You're… dead."
The figure's face softened, her hands reaching toward Amina as if trying to bridge the gap between them. "I am not dead, Amina. Not entirely. I exist in the Flame. I always have. You carry part of me within you, and that power is what will allow you to stop Valec."
She tried to speak, but her voice faltered, caught in the sheer weight of the revelation. Her mother wasn't gone. She had never been gone.
"You are the key," the figure continued. "The Flame was always meant to be a force of balance, not destruction. Valec seeks to remake the world, to rewrite fate itself. But only you can understand its true nature. You have to embrace what you are. The power of the Flame was never about control. It's about understanding."
Amina's pulse quickened as the weight of the words hit her. She looked back at Ashar, Lumeah, and Kai, who stood helpless at the edge of the flames, watching her as if they were witnessing something sacred—and terrifying.
"I don't understand," Amina whispered, shaking her head. "How can I stop him when I don't even understand the Flame's true purpose?"
Her reflection smiled faintly. "You've already begun, my daughter. You've embraced it. But you must not just fight Valec—understand him. His rage is born of loss. He does not see what he has become. You must show him. Only then will you both be free."
Amina's hands trembled as the flames surrounding her brightened, roaring in response to her inner turmoil. It was as if the world was waiting for her decision.
The figure reached out one last time. "Remember, Amina. You are not alone in this. You carry the Flame. You carry me. And I believe in you."
Then, with a final, sorrowful gaze, the reflection began to fade, merging back into the mirror's surface. The light grew dimmer, but the warmth remained in her chest—a quiet, pulsing strength.
"No!" Amina shouted, but it was too late. Her mother's voice, her image—everything—was gone.
The flames flickered, and the world began to crumble around her. She was falling.
Ashar reached out to her, but it was as if the air itself was holding them back. The power of the Flame surged, filling the chamber with an overwhelming intensity.
"No! Amina!" Lumeah cried out.
But Kai stood still, watching, his eyes wide with understanding. He had heard it too.
"Amina," Ashar said desperately, but his words were drowned by the rising winds of power.
She reached out for them, her hand outstretched, but the chamber was collapsing around her.
And then, as the chamber split and the ground shook beneath them, Valec's laugh echoed through the ruins.
"Too late."
The mirror shattered into millions of shards, each one reflecting the truth.
The flames erupted in a final, deafening roar.