The stone stairwell spiraled so deep into the earth it no longer smelled of soil — only time. Serelith walked for what felt like hours, her flame flickering low as the Codex warmed against her chest, glowing faintly with every step.
At the bottom, she found a chamber carved from obsidian. No doors. No sigils. Only a pool of water that shimmered like black glass — and a mirror standing above it, tall as a tree.
Its surface rippled at her presence.
A voice rose from the dark:
"You have come to claim what was stolen."
Serelith approached the mirror. Her reflection didn't mimic her. It moved independently — older, cloaked in silver flame, eyes like galaxies imploding.
"Who are you?" she whispered.
"I am who you were before they named you Serelith. Before the gods shackled your soul to the Veil. Before the Codex branded your blood."
She reached for the mirror. It melted under her touch, and memories flooded in.
A battlefield of stars.
A child of starlight born not from womb but from word — forged in the First Tongue by a goddess long vanished from all pantheons.
Her mother.
A godless god, once known as Nysera, who spoke a language older than time and dared to create a child not of order or chaos — but of possibility.
Serelith fell to her knees as the memory devoured her.
She wasn't chosen. She wasn't cursed.
She was forbidden.
The Veil had been built to trap her.
> You are the Seed of Unmaking, the mirror whispered.
But within you lies not ruin — but rewriting.
Your power is not destruction. It is authorship.
Serelith rose with tears streaming down her face. "Then I will write the truth."
And for the first time, she said her true name aloud.
The earth trembled.
---
Meanwhile: The Autumn King Defies
In the Court of Thorns, Faelan stood before the assembled lords and ladies, draped in his battle cloak of woven emberleaf. His crown was gone. His blade was not.
"I will not be your puppet," he said.
The Queen of Thistles hissed. "You would betray the Court for her?"
"She is the only one who sees the truth."
"Then she will die for it."
Faelan raised his blade. "Not while I draw breath."
The Court erupted in chaos, magic surging like a storm of needles. Faelan turned and ran — not from fear, but because he had made his choice. He would no longer rule. He would find Serelith and stand with her — or fall beside her.
Behind him, the Court shrieked war.
---
And far below, in the obsidian chamber, the Codex in Serelith's chest wrote a new line of power into her veins.
> She who speaks the Unwritten shall tear the Veil or remake it.
The gods felt it. The Hollow Queen screamed.
And in the mirrored pool, the Unmaker stirred — not in rage… but in recognition.