The storm hadn't touched the forest yet, but Selene felt it inside her. Like lightning had taken up residence beneath her skin.
The candles flickered wildly, casting fractured shadows on the wooden walls of the cabin. Wind howled outside, tugging at the shutters. Inside, everything was too still—except Selene. She was trembling, her breath shallow, her heart racing.
"Vespera," she rasped. "Something's… wrong."
Vespera crossed the room in a blur, catching her just as she sank to her knees. Her palms hit the floor, and a strange heat pulsed beneath her skin—like a fever, like fire.
"Selene, breathe. Look at me." Vespera's voice was firm but laced with fear. "You're burning."
Selene looked down.
Her hands were glowing.
A soft, silver light pulsed beneath her skin, curling up her arms like veins of moonlight. Her blood—she could feel it humming, singing, boiling. Power, ancient and foreign, surged through her.
"I saw him," she whispered. "I was in the hall of mirrors. He told me to choose. I chose the child. And then—I fell."
Vespera's expression shifted from concern to grim understanding. She knelt beside Selene, one hand steady on her shoulder.
"It's begun," she said quietly.
Selene's head jerked up. "What has?"
"The unbinding." Vespera swallowed hard. "The power you sealed before your death. It's waking up—because you are."
The room blurred, spinning, memories slamming into her with the force of a thousand blades. A golden crown falling. Blood on marble. A baby wailing. Alaric's eyes—frozen, glacial, beautiful and cruel all at once.
"He loved me," she whispered. "He killed me."
Vespera didn't look away. "Yes."
"He tried to erase me."
Vespera nodded. "He almost did."
Selene stared at the flickering candlelight, voice hollow. "Why am I back?"
At that, Vespera hesitated.
And then she rose, moving to the old chest beside the hearth. She opened it with a soft click, revealing a bundle of black velvet. From inside, she drew a small blade—curved, ancient, and etched with runes that shimmered in the firelight.
"I wasn't supposed to tell you this," she said, kneeling again, blade in hand. "But the time for secrets is over."
Selene's breath caught.
"This is the Dagger of the Oathborn," Vespera continued. "It was used to bind blood to the gods long before the Shadow Court ever existed. I used it to forge a pact the day Alaric condemned you."
Selene blinked. "A pact?"
"I went to the Goddess of Fate," Vespera said. "Begged her to preserve your soul, to give you another life—even if it cost me mine."
Selene's hands shook. "You did this for me?"
"She agreed. But she didn't do it for love." Vespera's eyes gleamed darkly. "She did it for war. For balance. The Shadow Court had meddled with fate. You were meant to rise. Not fall."
"And the child?" Selene asked softly.
Vespera looked away. "You were carrying it when you died."
Silence. Heavy. Shattering.
Selene's heart slammed against her ribs.
She remembered pain. She remembered blood. She remembered Alaric holding her as she faded.
And now, a name curled on her tongue. One she had never said aloud, not even in dreams.
"Seraphina," she whispered.
A name carried by the wind.
Vespera touched Selene's arm. "The prophecy said she would burn the old world and rebuild it. With your blood. With your name. But when you died, that future was shattered."
"And now?"
Vespera met her gaze. "Now you've come back to finish what the gods began."
Selene closed her eyes.
She could feel the child's heartbeat echo in her soul. Not just a memory—but a tether. A destiny.
"I need to remember," she said. "All of it."
"There's one way," Vespera said. "But it's dangerous."
Selene looked at her. "Tell me."
Vespera drew the blade across her own palm without flinching. Blood spilled, glowing faintly silver.
"Swear your name to the mirror of fate. Let it show you everything. But once you do—there's no turning back."
Selene stood, her body trembling but steady. The storm outside raged louder now, thunder rolling across the sky like drums of war.
"Then show me the mirror," she said.
---
Shadow Court – High Tower
Alaric stared into the long mirror in the war chamber.
Rain beat against the windows. A fire crackled behind him, but it did nothing to touch the cold in his chest.
In his hand, the locket trembled.
It had opened.
She remembered.
"She's back," said the voice behind him.
He didn't turn. "I know."
Elder Tiberius stepped forward, his robes heavy with enchantment. "You only win against a prophecy once, Alaric. And even then, you lose something greater."
"I didn't lose her," Alaric said quietly. "I destroyed her."
"And that is the cost the Shadow Court now pays," Tiberius said. "Her return is not just resurrection—it is retribution."
Alaric finally looked at the mirror. His reflection stared back—unchanged. Cold. Beautiful. Damned.
But deep in his eyes was a flicker of something he had buried long ago.
Grief.
"She remembers the fire," he murmured. "She remembers me."
"Then pray," Tiberius said, "that she still loves you. Because if she doesn't—she will burn this kingdom to ash."
---
Back in the Forest
The sacred mirror was hidden in a cave behind the mountain spring, deep beneath layers of enchantment. Vespera led Selene there through the night, the wind howling like wolves in mourning.
They descended by torchlight.
At the heart of the cave stood the Mirror of Origins—an obsidian slab the size of a door, its surface rippling like water.
Selene approached.
Her reflection shimmered. Shifted. Changed.
In one flicker, she saw herself in a bloodstained gown.
In the next—crowned in gold, a child on her hip.
In another—standing over Alaric's broken body, blade in hand.
She didn't flinch.
"I'm ready," she said.
Vespera drew a sigil on the stone floor.
Selene stepped into the circle.
"Name yourself," Vespera said, voice echoing like thunder.
"I am Selene," she said, "daughter of the moon, reborn of prophecy, mother of fire, bride of the damned."
The mirror pulsed.
"Swear it in blood."
Selene took the blade, drew it across her palm, and pressed her hand to the mirror.
It cracked.
Light exploded.
And the memories came.
---
She saw herself dancing in the Shadow Court. A queen. Powerful. Adored.
She saw Alaric kneeling before her, a crown in his hand, eyes soft with love.
She saw the rebellion. The betrayal. The child.
The council demanding blood.
Alaric choosing power.
The flames.
Her death.
And in the smoke—Vespera, weeping as she carried the soul of her queen through the veil of time.
---
Selene fell to her knees, gasping.
The cave spun. Her power roared inside her, breaking every chain, every silence.
When she looked up, her eyes were no longer human.
They burned silver.
"I remember everything."
Vespera knelt beside her. "Then you know what you must do."
Selene stood slowly.
"I'm not here to beg," she said. "I'm not here to hide."
Lightning flashed in the cave mouth, illuminating her face like a god reborn.
"I'm here to reclaim my name, my court, and my child."
Outside, thunder cracked like bone.
And far away, Alaric whispered her name for the first time in years.
"Selene."