The forest was still, but not peaceful. Liora stood at the edge, Kael beside her, the cool wind brushing strands of her hair across her face. The crescent mark on her chest pulsed faintly beneath her cloak, as if sensing the pull of something distant… or ancient.
"They'll come for me," she whispered.
"They already are," Kael murmured. "But we won't let them win."
Liora glanced sideways at him. He looked tired—more than tired. The silver glow in his eyes dimmed slightly, his jaw tense. He hadn't rested in days. And yet, he hadn't left her side for even a breath.
"Why do you keep fighting for me?" she asked softly.
He turned to her, his voice low and aching. "Because you're the only person I've ever touched who didn't make me feel like I was drowning."
The air between them thickened.
She looked away before she fell too deep into that gaze. "We need answers."
Kael nodded. "There's only one place we might find them now."
"The Temple of Mirrors," they said in unison.
It took hours to prepare.
Kael drew symbols around the perimeter of the cottage, protective runes he'd learned from an old enchantress in the Northern Isles. Liora, meanwhile, packed what little she had: an old journal, a silver pendant left by her mother, and the broken shard of the Midnight Bloom Kael had managed to salvage.
Sir Tavien—the knight who had tried to kill her, then bowed before her—remained silent, waiting by his horse.
"You trust him?" Liora whispered to Kael as they prepared to leave.
"No," Kael muttered, tightening his cloak. "But he knows things we don't. And right now, knowledge is more valuable than trust."
The three of them rode into the forest at twilight, the path ahead lit only by the glow of Liora's crescent mark and Kael's silver eyes.
The deeper they rode, the darker the woods became. Trees arched over them like cathedral ceilings, their bark etched with glyphs older than time. Shadows moved unnaturally. Whispers slithered through the branches.
"The forest doesn't like us," Tavien muttered.
Liora didn't respond. Her gaze was fixed ahead.
And then she saw it.
A pool of still water, perfectly round, reflecting the stars even though the sky above was blanketed by clouds. In its center floated a single mirror—oval, ancient, and cracked.
"The entrance," Kael said.
Tavien stepped forward and placed his palm over the mirror. His voice rang out in a language Liora didn't know, yet somehow understood.
"Show us the truth that time forgot."
The mirror rippled, and then—
A portal opened.
Inside, the Temple of Mirrors was breathtaking.
Endless glass walls stretched in all directions, each reflecting not their appearances, but their souls. Liora stared into one and gasped—it showed her cradling a baby, tears in her eyes, while Kael stood behind her, protective and broken.
She stepped back.
Another mirror showed her alone, standing in ruins.
Another—her lying dead, Kael screaming.
"Don't look too long," Tavien warned. "These aren't visions. They're possibilities. The curse exists in all timelines—it feeds on your fears and desires."
Kael's hand found hers. "Stay close."
She nodded.
The deeper they went, the colder it became. Ice formed on the tips of her fingers. The mirrors began to whisper. Names. Warnings. Forgotten languages that brushed her ears like breath.
Finally, at the heart of the temple, stood the Grand Mirror.
It was ten feet tall, shaped like a crescent moon, with ancient words carved into its silver edges:
"Only the cursed may summon truth. Only the cursed may survive it."
Liora stepped forward.
As her fingers brushed the glass, it turned black.
Then—it spoke.
"You are the rebirth of Elarion. The curse lives because you do. The seal was broken by your kiss. And only your sacrifice can bind it again."
She froze.
"My… sacrifice?"
Kael's grip tightened on her hand. "No."
The mirror rippled.
A figure stepped through.
It was her.
Or rather—what she could become.
The woman looked identical, but her eyes were pitch black, and her lips curved in a cruel smile. Her gown shimmered like smoke, and around her neck hung a necklace of bones.
"Meet your other self," the mirror intoned.
"Who are you?" Liora whispered.
The dark version of her smiled. "I'm the you who chose power. The you who didn't fall in love. The you who embraced what she was born to be."
"No," Liora said, stepping back. "I would never—"
"You will," the other Liora said. "Or you'll die. And Kael with you."
Kael stepped between them, sword drawn. "Stay away from her."
Dark Liora sneered. "You should be thanking me, cursed boy. I am her. And you? You're the reason she'll burn."
The mirror pulsed.
Tavien raised his blade. "We must leave. Now."
But it was too late.
The dark reflection lunged.
Liora screamed, but Kael pushed her aside, taking the hit—his body slammed into a mirror, shattering it.
"Kael!" she screamed.
Shards flew, slicing through the air.
The room warped.
Time twisted.
The mirror shouted one final message before exploding:
"The choice must be made: Love or Power. You cannot have both."
Then everything went black.
When Liora woke, she was lying in a bed of silver leaves, Kael unconscious beside her, his chest bleeding.
"No," she whispered, crawling to him.
Tavien hovered nearby, pale and shaking. "We're lucky. We survived the collapse."
She pressed her hands to Kael's wound, sobbing.
"Please," she whispered. "Don't leave me. Don't leave like everyone else."
Then—her crescent mark glowed.
Her hands shimmered.
And slowly, the wound began to close.
Tavien stared. "You're not just cursed. You're becoming something else entirely…"
Kael gasped and blinked awake, his hand finding hers.
"You brought me back," he said weakly.
She sobbed, nodding.
"I won't lose you," she whispered. "Not to the curse. Not to fate."
Kael's hand found her cheek.
And for a moment, the world held still again.
"You're stronger than the curse," he said. "You always have been."
And somewhere far away, the mirror shards whispered—
"But strength has a price."