Evelyn barely slept.
The cold stone beneath her bones was nothing compared to the storm inside her. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Elara's reflection in the mirror—cracked, crying, broken.
Lucien stayed close, watching her with quiet concern. Kaelith kept to the shadows, pacing like a caged wolf.
When dawn broke, it wasn't light that greeted them.
It was fire.
Flames burst through the chamber door.
Kaelith shoved them back. "We've been found!"
Lucien drew his sword. Evelyn reached for her dagger—but the moment her fingers touched the hilt, her veins lit up.
Gold light.
Blinding. Alive.
"What—?" she gasped.
Lucien shielded his eyes. "It's you. You're... glowing."
The fire paused. As if afraid.
Kaelith stared. "That's not normal magic. That's ancient."
Evelyn stepped forward, heart pounding. The golden light wrapped around her fingers, pulsing like a heartbeat.
Then, without thinking, she raised her hand—
And the fire parted.
A pathway opened through the flames.
Kaelith whispered, "Blood-born magic."
Lucien looked at Evelyn like she was someone new. Someone dangerous. "What else are you hiding?"
Evelyn turned to him, trembling. "I don't know."
But she would find out.
They escaped into the lower city.
Dirty, dark, crowded with creatures twisted by magic. Vampires, witches, even humans altered by Seraphine's cruel experiments.
They walked in silence, cloaks drawn.
Whispers followed them. Some called Evelyn "The Spark." Others murmured, "The Broken Flame."
Kaelith led them to an old garden hidden behind crumbling walls. The air smelled of iron and roses. Black vines climbed the statues, thorns gleaming red.
Lucien frowned. "This place... I know it."
Kaelith nodded. "Your father brought you here as a child. Before he died."
Lucien looked away.
Evelyn stepped closer to a statue of a woman holding a dagger.
The moment her fingers brushed the stone, it bloomed.
Roses. Crimson. Alive.
Kaelith's breath caught. "You awakened it. This was once a sanctuary for royal bloodlines."
Lucien walked beside Evelyn, his voice low. "Then why did it die?"
Kaelith's voice hardened. "Because Seraphine poisoned it. Just like she poisoned everything."
That night, they camped in the garden.
Evelyn sat with Lucien beneath the blooming statue.
"I thought I was just a girl," she whispered. "I thought my past didn't matter."
Lucien brushed her cheek, fingers gentle. "You were never just anything. You're fire and heart and blade."
She leaned against him.
He kissed her hair.
"You're scared," he said.
"Yes," she admitted. "But not of Seraphine. Not anymore. I'm scared of myself. Of what I might become."
Lucien looked into her eyes. "Then let me be your mirror. If you ever lose yourself, I'll show you who you are."
Evelyn's heart ached with something she hadn't let herself feel in years.
Hope.
But hope was brief.
At midnight, the sky split.
A scream tore through the city—not human, not beast. Something in between.
Kaelith shot to her feet. "She's coming."
Evelyn stood. "Elara?"
Kaelith shook her head. "No. Seraphine. She's sent her blood priest."
Lucien cursed. "We're not ready."
Evelyn's hands began to glow again.
Gold.
But this time, mixed with something darker. Something red.
Kaelith whispered, "Thorns and blood. The twin gifts. You're not just a mirror to Elara. You're her balance."
Evelyn turned toward the city gates.
"Then it's time I stop hiding."
And in the distance, as the blood priest descended—
Evelyn walked into the fire.