The capital rose in the distance, sharp and cold as a blade. Towers of obsidian stabbed into the pale winter sky, smoke curling from chimneys like serpents.
Evelyn's heart thudded. Lucien rode beside her, silent but alert. Behind them, Kaelith watched their backs, cloak rippling in the cold wind.
They had arrived.
The gates loomed. Black iron. Magic runes glowing faintly. Guards patrolled the ramparts—vampires, witches, wolves. Seraphine's army.
"We can't walk through the front," Kaelith said. "But I know another way."
Lucien raised an eyebrow. "Underground?"
Kaelith nodded. "Sewer tunnels beneath the river. Abandoned—but still dangerous."
Evelyn swallowed. "Let's move."
The tunnel reeked of mold and blood. Their boots splashed through shallow water, echoing through the dark.
Lucien led the way with a torch. Evelyn stayed close behind, trying not to breathe too deeply. Kaelith moved like a shadow.
Then—the wall ahead shimmered.
Magic.
Kaelith stepped forward and pressed her hand against the stone. "Illusion. Recent."
The wall dissolved, revealing a stairway.
They climbed.
Above them, the world changed.
The underground passage opened into a forgotten hall—ornate and broken, with glass chandeliers dangling by threads and murals faded by centuries.
In the center stood a tall mirror, cracked but intact. Symbols carved into its golden frame pulsed with faint silver light.
Kaelith stopped. "We're here."
Evelyn stepped toward the mirror.
Her reflection blinked.
Not once.
Twice.
Her breath caught. "That's not me."
Lucien drew closer. "What is it?"
The reflection changed.
Dark hair. Ice-blue eyes. Elara.
The mirror whispered: Sister.
Evelyn stumbled back. "She's in there."
Kaelith nodded. "This mirror is older than the empire. It connects blood. Souls. It's how Seraphine bound you both."
Evelyn's voice cracked. "Can I talk to her?"
"You can try," Kaelith said. "But the deeper you reach, the more it takes."
Evelyn stepped forward.
The glass shimmered.
Elara stared back—expression unreadable.
Evelyn pressed her palm to the surface. "Elara. It's me. Evelyn."
The reflection flickered. Then spoke.
"You left me."
Evelyn's voice trembled. "No. I didn't know. I was just a child."
Elara's eyes glowed. "And yet you lived. Loved. While I rotted in shadows."
"I didn't choose that," Evelyn whispered. "Our mother made that choice. To protect us."
Elara's voice sharpened. "She chose you."
The glass cracked. A line ran across the mirror's face.
Kaelith stepped forward. "Pull back! She's unstable."
But Evelyn shook her head. "No. I'm not leaving her again."
She pressed harder.
"I came to save you, Elara. Not to fight you."
Elara blinked. Her lips parted.
For a moment—just a heartbeat—her expression softened.
Then a scream split the air.
Magic erupted.
The mirror shattered.
Glass flew.
Lucien yanked Evelyn back. A shard sliced her cheek. Blood ran down her face.
In the broken glass, fragments of Elara's face remained.
Crying.
They stumbled into a side chamber, sealing the door behind them.
Evelyn panted. "She's still in there."
Lucien looked grim. "She's slipping between herself and the darkness."
Kaelith wrapped Evelyn's wound. "That mirror was a tether. Now it's broken."
"So what now?" Evelyn asked.
Kaelith stared at her. "Now you carry what she can't. Her pain. Her truth. Her rage."
"That's not fair," Evelyn whispered.
"Neither is fate."
Lucien touched Evelyn's shoulder. "You reached her. Even for a moment. That matters."
Evelyn nodded.
But inside, something else stirred.
A warmth in her veins. A light.
She looked at her hands.
They glowed.
Kaelith stared. "The mirror marked you."
"What does it mean?" Evelyn asked.
Kaelith's voice dropped. "It means you're no longer just her sister. You're her equal. Her opposite. Her end."
And in the shadows of the broken mirror—a new path had opened.
One Evelyn wasn't sure she could return from.