They stood at the edge of something older than memory.
The shrine behind them pulsed with dim light, a heartbeat carved in obsidian and grief. Ahead, the forest had changed again. No longer trees, but towering stone columns draped in ivy and ice. The ground turned slick beneath their feet, soft with frost and sorrow. Every sound felt distant, as if the woods itself were holding its breath.
Elowen wrapped her arms around herself. Cold bit deeper here. But it wasn't the kind of cold that came from wind or weather — it was the kind that comes from inside, from silence, from mourning.
"The third gate," she whispered. "It said grief."
Ashen walked beside her, his expression tight. He hadn't spoken since the shrine. Since his confession.
They pressed forward through the stone corridor, following a path lined with dead flowers. Petals of silver and blue littered the ground like faded tears. Above them, no birds sang. No wind stirred. Even the stars overhead seemed dimmer.
Then the world opened.
A courtyard. Vast. Circular. And at its center stood a mirror — tall as a tower, cracked from top to base. It shimmered faintly, though no light touched it.
Elowen took a slow step forward.
"What is this place?" she asked.
Ashen shook his head. "I don't know. But I think it remembers us."
She approached the mirror. It gave no reflection.
Instead, images began to appear: not of the forest, but of her past — a castle bathed in moonlight, a woman with silver eyes cradling her, a fire consuming a golden hall. Then the images faded.
Ashen stepped closer. "What did you see?"
"My mother," Elowen whispered. "I think... I think she tried to hide me. To protect me from him."
The mirror pulsed.
And then it spoke.
A voice, soft as snowfall:
"Grief unlocks what blood cannot. Face it. Or remain broken."
The mirror split open like a wound. From it emerged mist—dense, dark, swirling.
And then, her.
A child.
Barefoot, eyes wide, tears carving tracks down pale cheeks.
It was Elowen. Herself. Younger. Hurt.
She couldn't breathe. The vision-child walked forward, arms outstretched. And when it touched her hand—
everything unraveled.
She saw herself, hiding beneath stairs as fire consumed her home. She saw soldiers drag her mother away, her screams silenced by steel. She saw herself wandering the woods for days, crying, bleeding, forgotten.
She had buried it. All of it.
Now it clawed its way free.
Pain lanced through her chest. She collapsed.
Ashen caught her. "Elowen!"
The mirror pulsed again.
"Let it break you. Only then can you rise."
She screamed.
And then, silence.
When she woke, the courtyard was gone.
She stood alone, wrapped in moonlight.
Before her was the girl again.
But this time, the girl smiled. She reached out and placed a hand on Elowen's heart.
"You remember now. That is enough."
She vanished like smoke.
The world shifted.
Ashen was beside her again, looking stunned. "The gate... it opened."
Behind them, the mirror had shattered. Where it stood now lay a path paved in bone-white stone, leading deeper into the forest.
Elowen stood slowly. Her body ached. But her eyes shone with something new.
Resolve.
"Let's keep going," she said.
Ashen nodded, though his gaze lingered on the shattered mirror.
And far above, in the temple of sky and ruin, Aeron stirred.
"So she remembers," he murmured. "Good."
He turned to the shadows.
"Release the Hallowed One. It's time she met her sister."