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Chapter 5 - A Letter, A Lie, and a Lock of Hair

The moon hung low, casting silver light over the cobbled streets as Seraphina followed the cloaked rider through the merchant quarter.

Her heartbeat thundered beneath her cloak.

Don't trust the man in silver.

The note still echoed in her mind.

And yet—who could she trust?

The rider ducked into a dead-end alley.

By the time Seraphina reached the corner, the alley was empty.

No rider.

No hoof prints.

Only a parchment nailed to the brick wall, fluttering in the wind.

---

Scene Break – The Alley Note

Seraphina stepped closer. Her fingers trembled as she tore the parchment free.

The handwriting was identical to the note delivered earlier—sharp, jagged, familiar.

> "Velora blood dies young. Your mother, then you. Break the pattern. Find the mirror."

She blinked.

The mirror?

Suddenly, a voice behind her:

"You shouldn't be here, Lady Seraphina."

She spun around, dagger half-drawn.

Kaelith.

---

Scene Break – Kaelith and Seraphina: The Alley

He looked infuriatingly calm, dressed in black, moonlight catching in his hair.

"I could say the same to you," she said coldly, hiding the parchment behind her cloak.

"You followed a stranger into a slum alley at night," he said. "That's not bravery. That's suicide."

"Coming from the man who didn't blink when I was sentenced to death?"

He flinched.

Seraphina turned to leave—but he stepped forward.

"You've changed," he said softly. "You walk like a woman who expects a knife at her back."

"I wonder why that is," she snapped.

He didn't stop her this time.

Didn't try to explain.

But as she vanished into the night, Kaelith stared at the spot where she'd stood.

His hand curled around something in his pocket.

A lock of red hair. Her hair.

He'd kept it.

And he didn't know why.

---

Scene Break – The Velora Estate, Underground Chamber

Seraphina returned before dawn.

She slipped into the west wing—long abandoned—and unlocked a hidden stairwell behind the ancestral portrait.

The air was cold and damp as she descended.

At the bottom was a room. Sealed. Forgotten.

She held her breath and lit a lantern.

Dust and cobwebs coated everything, but her eyes locked onto the object in the center:

A standing mirror. Covered in velvet.

Her fingers hovered over the cloth.

She pulled it free.

The mirror was flawless. Too flawless.

When she stared into it—

—her reflection blinked back at her.

And smiled.

Seraphina gasped.

Then it whispered:

> "I died to save you once. Don't make me do it again."

She stumbled back, lantern slipping from her grasp.

The flame sputtered.

Darkness swallowed the chamber whole.

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