Smoke danced like devils across the shattered field. The air reeked of scorched magic and something older—the scent of forgotten gods stirring from their graves.
Cassia coughed violently, shielding her eyes as the black fire crater pulsed with unnatural energy. Lucien stood at the edge, face illuminated by the glow of the cursed relic clenched in his bloodied hand. His jaw trembled, his lips parted with horror—yet he did not let go.
"Lucien!" Cassia screamed. "You don't know what you've called!"
He turned slowly, eyes dark. "I didn't call it."
A gust of wind exploded outward from the pit. The trees bent, groaning under pressure. And from the depths of flame, a figure rose.
Not Aira.
A childlike form cloaked in shadow and ash, its face a swirl of mirrors, its voice layered with thousands of whispers.
"You broke the seal," it said, drifting forward. "You summoned me."
Kael yanked Cassia back, shielding her. "A Mirrorborn Revenant. A piece of the Queen."
Lucien stepped forward, shaking his head. "I didn't mean to summon you. I just wanted her back. Aira..."
The Revenant laughed, a bone-rattling sound. "Oh, you will see her. When the rift is complete, she will become me."
---
In the Mirror Realm...
Aira's knees hit the glass floor. Mirrors surrounded her, infinite versions of herself screaming, shifting, unraveling.
"Stop," she whispered.
But the Queen loomed over her, placing a cruel crown of obsidian on her head.
"You feel it, don't you? The fracture in your soul. You are not just flame, child. You are reflection. You are fury. You are everything they tried to erase."
"I won't become you," Aira growled, her voice shaking.
"But you already are."
And then—a single mirror flickered.
Lucien.
Bleeding. Crying. Whispering her name like a prayer.
And beside him—the Revenant.
Aira's eyes widened. "No..."
The Mirror Queen leaned close. "You have a choice. Stay here, in truth. Or return—and lose everything you are."
Aira rose, fire flickering behind her back.
"Then I choose war."
---
Back in the Real World...
The Revenant screamed. A blast of light cracked through the sky. And above them—a portal.
Aira descended like a phoenix reborn.
Hair ablaze. Eyes gold and molten.
And for one brief second—Lucien smiled.
But her face was unreadable.
She landed between them, voice cold.
"Touch him again," she said to the Revenant, "and I'll turn you into shards."
The Revenant lunged.
Aira met it with fire and fury.
The sky split.
The ground tore.
Magic raged.
And just when it seemed Aira had won— the Revenant whispered something that stopped her.
One name.
"Kairos."
Her power faltered.
She turned to Lucien, shaken. "Who told them that name?"
Lucien's face went pale.
Kael shouted, "Everyone back! Now!"
But it was too late.
From the shadows of the trees, a cloaked figure stepped out.
Smiling. Watching.
And in his hand—a necklace Aira hadn't seen since her childhood.
Her brother's.
"Hello, sister," he said.
Lucien's hand trembled as he held the scorched scarf Aira once wore—the only thing left after she vanished into the rift. His knuckles whitened as his fingers curled into a fist.
"I won't lose her again," he growled.
Kael stepped forward, wind whipping around his cloak. "If we don't find her soon, the Rift will consume what's left of her soul."
Lucien's eyes blazed, not with fire—but with purpose. "Then I'll burn the Rift itself if I have to."
---
Meanwhile…
Aira drifted in an endless crimson sky. Whispers clawed at her sanity. Flames danced around her, but didn't burn her.
She floated—lost.
But not alone.
A version of herself—dressed in royal black, with eyes glowing gold and red—walked toward her.
"I am you," the doppelgänger said, "the part you buried. The one who remembers everything."
Aira's breath caught. Memories assaulted her—the wedding, the betrayal, the blood on her hands, the vow she made under a blood moon. Lucien was the heir. But he was also… the executioner.
Her knees buckled.
"Get up!" her mirror-self snapped. "We weren't born to be broken—we were made to reign."
"I don't want to reign in pain," Aira whispered.
"You already are."
Suddenly, darkness surged in—a shadow wreathed in frost. A voice she hadn't heard in years echoed:
"Come to me, my queen. I gave you life once. I'll claim it again."
She screamed—
And in the real world, Lucien staggered, clutching his heart. He felt her cry.
"She's calling me," he whispered, eyes wide.
Kael's face paled. "No… that voice. It's him. The Forgotten King."
Lucien's rage erupted. "Then we fight a god if we must!"
---
Aira's body—levitating deep within the Rift—suddenly burst into flames.
But this time, it wasn't destruction.
It was rebirth.
And her voice—clear, furious, divine—shook the heavens.
"I am Aira. I am not yours to control. I choose my fate."
The Rift trembled.
A storm gathered.
And then—her eyes snapped open.
And for a moment—just one—
Lucien saw a fiery silhouette appear in the sky above the ruins.
"She's alive," he breathed.
But as quickly as she appeared—she vanished again. Ripped away.
This time, not by magic—but by a cloaked figure in white with wings made of ash.
Kael's scream cracked through the wind. "NO! She's been taken—by the Arch Warden!"
Lucien's eyes turned crimson. His voice, a vow of thunder.
"Then the heavens will fall. I'm bringing her back."
Lucien's breath hitched as the winged figure cloaked in white ash disappeared into the storm, Aira's limp, glowing form clasped tight in his arms.
A strange silence followed—unnatural and cruel.
Then, the skies wept fire.
Kael stepped back, eyes filled with dread. "That wasn't just a Warden. That was the Ash Sentinel. The last line between the divine realm and the damned."
Lucien's fists trembled. "Then he just crossed the line."
He turned, cloak whipping in the wind, a storm crackling in his gaze. "Get the War Seers. Summon the Blood Guardians. I'm going to rip open every plane of existence if I must. I want her back. Alive."
Kael hesitated, then nodded. "And if she's not?"
Lucien's voice dropped like steel crashing through glass.
"Then I'll burn this realm to ash."
**
Far away—beneath layers of forgotten dimensions—Aira stirred in the arms of the Ash Sentinel.
She gasped, then choked.
Chains of light wrapped around her wrists and ankles, glowing, pulsing, draining.
"You will forget," the Sentinel intoned, voice deep and hollow. "You were never meant to remember your divinity. You are the vessel. Nothing more."
But something in Aira resisted.
A thread. A name. A heartbeat.
Lucien.
"No…" she breathed.
The Sentinel's fingers gripped her tighter, white-hot.
But from deep within her soul, something awoke.
Her flame ignited again—not wild, not wrathful—but royal.
Controlled. Chosen.
She clenched her jaw, eyes blazing. "I'm not a vessel."
The Sentinel faltered.
"I'm the fire they tried to bury. The queen they tried to erase."
Her power surged.
Chains shattered.
And Aira fell—burning—through darkness, heading straight toward the Forbidden Gate.
**
Meanwhile, Lucien stood at the heart of the Oracle's Hall, sword planted in the sacred ground.
"I offer my oath," he declared. "My soul. My fury. My flame."
The war seers gasped.
The sacred glyphs turned crimson.
"Lucien!" Kael hissed. "You're invoking the Flame-Bond!"
Lucien looked up. "If she burns—I burn too."
The altar cracked open, lightning pouring into him like a vow.
And at that moment—
Aira's voice screamed through the planes.
"Lucien!"
His head snapped up. He heard her. He felt her.
"She's falling," he said. "And I'm going to catch her."
**
The storm above the Forbidden Gate roared open.
The sky split.
And through it, falling like a star set ablaze—
Aira.
Lucien leapt.
Time slowed.
Their hands reached—
Just a breath apart—
When a black arrow cut through the air.
Straight for her heart.
Lucien's scream shattered the heavens.
But it was too late.