The wind howled through the tomb's broken halls.
Evelyn stared at the mirror's cracked surface long after the vision faded. Her reflection was shattered into a dozen pieces—each one showing a different version of herself. Strong. Afraid. Angry. Alone.
Lucien stood beside her, sword still in hand. "We need to leave," he said. "If that thing is real, Seraphine's already moving."
Evelyn's voice was soft. "She said... her name is Elara."
Lucien glanced at her. "You believe it now?"
"I don't want to," Evelyn whispered. "But something inside me... remembers her. I don't know how. I don't know why."
She touched the broken mirror, and for a moment, it felt like touching a memory. Cold. Familiar. Buried.
"Why would my mother keep this from me?" she asked. "She told me everything. About her powers. About how she died to keep me safe. But not this. Not Elara."
Lucien's jaw tensed. "Maybe she thought it would protect you."
Evelyn looked at him. "Or maybe... she knew I'd be the one to stop her."
They left the tomb at dawn.
The first rays of sunlight fell over the ruins of Aeredale, golden light brushing the broken stones. It felt like a breath between storms.
Evelyn and Lucien rode in silence for hours. But Evelyn couldn't stop thinking. Not about the dark girl in the mirror. Not about the way her mother's voice had trembled when she said, "Return."
Her mind was racing—but her heart whispered one thing:
"What if Elara isn't the monster?"
That thought scared her more than anything.
By nightfall, they arrived at a quiet village near the mountain border. Lucien found them an old cottage to rest—wooden walls, low roof, a fire that crackled gently.
Evelyn sat by the window, watching the stars.
Lucien approached her, holding two cups of warm cider.
"You haven't said a word in hours," he said softly.
"I'm trying not to fall apart," she replied, managing a small smile.
He sat beside her. "You're allowed to feel, Evelyn. Even heroes need time to break."
She looked at him, eyes glossy. "What if she hates me, Lucien? What if I'm the reason she became what she is?"
"You didn't make her," he said firmly. "Seraphine did. Alden did. They twisted her. You're not to blame."
"But she's my sister."
Lucien reached out, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "Then give her a reason to remember what love feels like."
Evelyn looked into his eyes—warm, steady.
"I don't know what I'd do without you," she whispered.
He smiled, leaning closer. "Then don't try."
Their lips met again—but this time it was slower. Deeper. Like the world had paused just for them.
They didn't need words.
Not right now.
Only each other.
But far away, in the icy halls of the Crimson Citadel, Elara stood on a balcony, watching the storm clouds roll in.
Seraphine approached, draped in a red cloak. "You felt it, didn't you?"
Elara didn't turn. "She was in the tomb. I saw her."
"And did it stir anything... sisterly?" Seraphine asked, voice dripping with mockery.
Elara's voice was flat. "Only rage."
Seraphine smiled. "Good. Keep feeding it. Soon, the two of you will meet. And I want her to see what her family has become."
"But what if she doesn't fight with me?" Elara asked.
Seraphine blinked. "What?"
Elara turned. "What if she tries to save me? Wouldn't that ruin your little prophecy?"
Seraphine's smile faded.
"Elara... you don't need saving. You need revenge."
The wind whipped around them. Snow began to fall.
"Make her bleed," Seraphine hissed. "Make her beg. Or I will tear the soul from your body myself."
Elara didn't flinch.
But deep in her eyes, something flickered.
Not love.
Not hope.
But... confusion.
A crack in the darkness.
Back in the cottage, Evelyn lay awake while Lucien slept.
The fire had burned low. Shadows danced on the walls.
She rose quietly and stepped outside.
The stars were bright. The air cold. But she welcomed it.
Suddenly—a voice.
"You shouldn't have come back."
She turned.
A figure stepped out of the trees. Cloaked in grey. Hood low.
Her heart pounded. "Who are you?"
The figure pulled back the hood.
An old man. Pale eyes. Wrinkled face.
But she recognized him.
"…Alden."
Her breath caught. Her fists clenched. "You have no right—"
"I didn't come to fight," he said. "I came to tell you something your mother never did."
She froze.
"About why she hid Elara," Alden said. "And what she saw in the stars the night you were born."
Evelyn's voice was ice. "Why should I believe a murderer?"
"Because I loved her once," Alden said. "And because if you don't learn the truth... your sister won't be the end."
He looked up at the stars.
"You will."