POV: Fragmented — Mara, Theda, Irlenne
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One Spark. Three Stories. One Fire.
There was no accident.
Just a match.
A mirror.
A moment no one could forgive.
The night the manor burned, only three girls were inside.
Only one walked out smiling.
But they all carried smoke on their skin.
And they all told a different version of the truth.
---
Part I: Mara
> Before the fire. Before the ash. When everything still glittered even when it cut.
Mara was in the observatory. Her favorite mirror — the tall one with the silver veins running like a curse through its frame — leaned crookedly against the back wall.
She wasn't watching the stars.
She was watching Irlenne.
Outside. In the garden.
Kissing Lucien.
Soft, gentle. Not a thing meant to destroy.
But it did.
Because Irlenne's hand was in Lucien's hair, and Lucien was laughing.
He had never laughed like that with Mara.
And Mara, who had once kissed Irlenne under the archway of roses and called it a game, suddenly felt disposable.
So she pressed her palm to the mirror and whispered,
> "Show me how to never be forgotten."
The mirror obliged.
It cracked.
Then whispered back,
> "Burn what you cannot keep."
---
Part II: Theda
> Before the fire. The hour of hesitation. The moment of almost stopping her.
Theda found Mara in the east corridor, barefoot, holding a lit match.
She looked calm.
Too calm.
"Theda," Mara had said, smiling. "Do you believe in purification?"
Theda's hands had shaken. "What did you do?"
"I'm going to start over," Mara replied. "Ashes make better soil."
"You'll ruin everything."
Mara tilted her head.
"It's already ruined. I just want to be the one who breaks it."
Theda should've screamed. Should've slapped the match from her hand.
But something in her chest whispered:
> Let her.
Let her be the villain you were too afraid to become.
So she let her go.
And watched the match fall.
---
Part III: Irlenne
> During the fire. The betrayal she never expected.
Smoke crept into the greenhouse like a slow confession.
Irlenne was alone. Lucien had gone to get books from the library. They'd promised each other one more hour before facing Mara again.
She never saw Mara light the fire.
But she saw her watching it.
Standing in the mirror. Smiling.
When Irlenne screamed her name, the image wavered.
And Mara whispered, from behind glass:
> "If I can't have the story, I'll burn the ending."
The fire licked at the walls.
Irlenne ran.
And for a long time, she thought she was the reason it happened.
That her love had been the spark.
But she was only the match that Mara couldn't hold without bleeding.
---
Part IV: What Was Never Said Aloud
When the smoke cleared, the house was half-devoured.
Theda said she never saw Mara that night.
Irlenne said she was already asleep.
Mara said nothing — only that she "woke up in the smoke."
They lied in different keys.
And when Lucien asked why the fire seemed to follow the mirrors, no one answered.
Because none of them wanted to admit:
> The house didn't burn from neglect.
It burned from love misused.
From obsession too sharp to hold.
---
Part V: Now
Irlenne stands at the same archway, years later, and places her hand against the new mirror they've restored.
It does not show the past.
It shows her.
Now.
Alive.
Theda comes to stand beside her.
"I think it started long before the fire," she says.
Irlenne nods.
"But the fire was the moment we stopped pretending it hadn't."
They look out over the garden.
The roses are blooming again.
No blood on the thorns.
Only dew.
---