The morning after the clash in the Vault dawned pale and cold. Mist clung to the cliffs as Aelira stood at the edge, staring out at the endless sea.
The fractured crown now sat sealed within a runic case on her back — its fire dim but alive, like a waiting breath.
Behind her, Kaelen stirred.
He didn't look at her the same way anymore.
And yet… he lingered.
"You shouldn't be out here alone," he said quietly.
She turned, surprised. "You remember?"
He shook his head. "Not exactly. But when I look at you, I feel like I forgot something… important. Like I missed a sunrise I was supposed to see."
Her heart twisted.
She wanted to tell him everything — the soul-bond, the memories, the moments they'd shared — but what right did she have to force his heart to remember?
So she smiled softly. "You're here now. That's enough."
The Journey Begins Again
By noon, the group had set off toward the final Vault.
It was hidden in the ancient city of Elaren, Seraiya's birthplace — a place long erased from maps and memory.
Riven led them through mountain paths, his demeanor sharp. But even he looked back often toward Kaelen, as if measuring what was left.
Ashar rode beside Aelira, flipping through his spellbook.
"Three Vaults. Three keys. The last won't open unless… you grieve."
"I'm already grieving," Aelira muttered. "Isn't that enough?"
Ashar didn't answer. He knew — as she did — that the magic demanded something deeper. A price of the soul.
Whispers on the Wind
As they camped that night beneath a canopy of ancient pines, the air grew heavy with magic. Not hostile… but familiar.
Aelira woke to whispers brushing across her skin like falling snow.
She stepped away from the camp and into a ring of stone where the wind danced in circles.
In the center stood a man.
Silver eyes. Long dark hair. A presence that tugged at her very bones.
"You shouldn't be here," she whispered.
The Mirror King smiled, soft and sad. "I never truly left."
"Why now?"
"Because you're close. The Vault will open soon. And when it does, it won't just give. It will take."
She swallowed. "What will it take?"
He stepped closer. "Your memories. Your love. Maybe even your name."
Her voice trembled. "And you? Will you still wait for me… if I forget you again?"
"I waited five hundred years, Seraiya.""I will wait five hundred more."
His hand lifted to her cheek — but it passed through her, like mist.
A vision. A fragment.
But it left her burning.
The Warning
When she returned to camp, Kaelen was awake. He looked at her with wide eyes.
"I saw him," he said. "In a dream. The one with silver eyes. He called you by another name."
"Seraiya."
He blinked. "Why does that name make my chest hurt?"
Aelira didn't answer. She just sat beside him, the fire between them crackling like a heartbeat.
"You're not just her," he said after a long pause. "You're you. And I think… I'm falling for you."
Her breath caught.
But before she could speak, the sky above them rippled — and a scream tore through the air.
Ashar ran toward them, face pale. "The path ahead—Elaren—it's open. But something's come out of it."
Aelira stood.
"Then we meet it."