Elara stood frozen.
There, behind the swirling fog of memories, was Maris.
She looked… tired.
Thinner than before. Her dark hair was messy, and her eyes held that same softness Elara remembered- only now buried beneath fear and silence.
Behind her, the mirror-glass shimmered. It wasn't just showing Maris.It was holding her.
Maris stepped forward and pressed her palm against the inside of the glass. The spiral mark on her skin glowed faintly, pulsing red. A moment later, Elara's own spiral responded, burning softly on her wrist. Elara stepped forward and placed her hand against the glass, mirroring her.
Her eyes met Elara's.
No words were spoken, but something passed between them-something deep. A memory. A feeling.
"She's still in there. And she remembers me". Elara said and smiled sadly.
Elara's breath shook.
"Maris," she whispered, but the name echoed strangely in the room, as though the air had swallowed it.
Then, the glass flickered.
And Elara fell backward into darkness.
She landed on her feet this time, barely, in a new space.
This one wasn't made of mirrors or mist.It was a chamber of stone, small and silent, with walls lined in pages that fluttered even though there was no wind.
The spiral on her wrist glowed brighter.
In front of her was a puzzle table. Black stone, with strange symbols carved into it- eyes, teeth, spirals, keys.
Above the table, a soft voice echoed, neither male nor female:
"To free them, you must know them.To know them, you must remember."
Three puzzle pieces floated in the air.
Each one showed a piece of someone's life, drawn in the Grimoire's smoky ink style.
One showed Maris holding the book, her eyes wide with wonder.
One showed a boy, face turned away, sitting at the edge of a cliff at night.
The third showed Elara, alone in a dark hallway, reaching out to someone who had already disappeared.
Underneath, carved into the stone table, was a question:
"What broke them?"
Elara's heart ached.
For Maris, she remembered the day she stood by and said nothing when others called her strange.
For the boy… she paused.
His face was hidden. But something about his posture, the slope of his shoulders, the sadness in the drawing- it reminded her of Cassian.
Could this be his brother?
She didn't know his name. Not yet.But the book was showing her something.
A truth.
She reached for the third piece —the one with herself in it —and gently placed it in the center.
Then she whispered:
"I broke them. By forgetting. By pretending not to see."
The pieces lit up.
The room trembled.
The table slowly sank into the ground.
And in its place, a spiral door rose, taller, darker than the first.
This one had a line carved into it:
"The second gate. Only the forgotten may enter."
Elara reached out- the spiral on her wrist pulsing in time with her heartbeat.
She hesitated. What if she didn't come back this time?
But Maris's face stayed in her mind. So did that boy- that shadow of someone Cassian used to care about.
She stepped forward.
The spiral door opened to her surprise.
On the other side, she found a forest of memory.
Trees made of paper. Branches that curled into symbols. Leaves that whispered names in a dozen voices.
It was beautiful. And terrifying.
Each tree held a story.
Some short flashes of laughter, warmth, and childhood.
Others long pages of pain, regret, choices made and unmade.
She wandered until she found two trees glowing red.
One pulsed with the name "Maris."The other had no name- only a spiral branded into the bark.
She touched the second tree.
A cold wind blew through the forest.
And suddenly, the tree spoke- in a voice full of pain and fire:
"He was the first to open it.The first to be erased.The first name I took."
Elara's eyes widened.
He.Cassian's brother.
She gripped the bark tighter.
"I don't know your name," she whispered, voice trembling. "But I know someone who still misses you."
The spiral glowed brighter.
The forest grew still.
A path opened between the trees.
At the end of the path was a door made of blood-red wood. A key floated before it.
The key looked like a quill.
The voice returned- soft and ancient.
"Write their names. Speak them with truth.Only then will the book give them back."
Elara took the key.
"I will," she said.
"I promise."