When Elara and Aelira stepped through the Gate, the world behind them disappeared — not crumbled or erased, but paused, like breath held in time.
They were nowhere.
And everywhere.
The space inside the Gate wasn't a room or realm — it was a mind. A soul. A memory made flesh.
The floor beneath their feet shimmered like water and sky.
Whispers coiled in the air. Voices that sounded like their ancestors… and sometimes, their own thoughts.
"Choose."
"Break."
"Heal."
Aelira clutched Elara's hand tighter.
Then the sky above them opened — and a being descended.
Not a god.
Not a person.
But a presence.
It took shape as a woman of mirrored flame — shifting from Elara's face to Aelira's in pulses. She had no name. No mouth. But she spoke.
"I am the Gate. The flame between. The echo of intention."
Elara swallowed hard. "Why were we brought here?"
The being replied:
"Because the world was built on halves. Twin flames divided to preserve control. Your ancestors chose power over unity."
"Now, you must choose differently."
The space trembled, and a crystal platform rose beneath them.
Two pedestals.
On one — a sword of seared glass.
On the other — a seed of living flame.
"One destroys the chain. Ends the Gate. Ends all legacy."
"The other binds you to it. Forever."
Aelira frowned. "Why give us the choice if both paths demand sacrifice?"
The Gate's voice softened.
"Because only you can end the lie."
Elara turned to Aelira.
"We could destroy it. Be free."
Aelira's eyes shimmered. "But if we bind to it… maybe we can remake it. Together."
Kael's voice echoed in Elara's memory — "What if you're not here to end a story, but to write the next one?"
Elara touched the seed.
Aelira touched the sword.
And together, they placed them both at the center.
The light exploded — not in fire, but song.
Not destruction.
Not obedience.
But balance.
The Gate breathed.
And whispered…
"Well chosen."