The world beyond the mirror was silent.
Not just silent—empty. There were no walls, no skies, no wind. Just endless whiteness beneath Amina's feet and a hovering tension that pricked at her skin like invisible needles.
She turned slowly.
There she was.
Herself.
Or rather, the version of herself the Ember Wraith had shown—cloaked in embers, hair flowing like molten silk, eyes glowing with power… but hollow. Soulless.
"Is this who I become?" Amina asked, voice echoing in the void.
The other her smiled—cold and regal. "It's who you already are. Just... unshackled."
Amina's jaw clenched. "You're not me."
"I am every time you chose vengeance over mercy. Every time you relished power. Every time you wished they'd burn for what they did to you."
The truth stabbed deeper than any blade.
"You're the shadow," Amina said. "The Pyre's warning."
"No," the mirror-self replied, circling her. "I'm the Pyre's offer."
"Offer?"
"Freedom. Control. Fearlessness. You've seen what the world does to the weak. They slaughtered your people. Lied to you. Manipulated you."
Amina tried to step away, but the ground shifted to match her pace.
"You begged for justice," the mirror said, "but what did justice give you? Pain. And silence. But I offer power. I am the flame that can never be extinguished."
Amina stood still. Her voice wavered, but her eyes stayed firm.
"If power costs me my soul, I don't want it."
The mirror-Amina laughed—sharp, echoing. "Darling, you never had a soul. Just a spark waiting to be consumed."
Suddenly, the void convulsed.
A tower of ash rose in the distance. A battlefield formed beneath their feet, shaped by thought and emotion. The mirror-self spread her arms. "This is your trial. Fight me. Or become me."
Fire burst from her palms, serpentine and furious. Amina leapt aside, forming a wall of light with her own flame, but the impact sent her skidding back.
Pain laced her limbs. Her own fire—still volatile—struggled to obey.
"You hesitate," the shadow mocked. "Because deep down, you fear me… and you envy me."
Amina screamed and released a pulse of flame—bright gold streaked with blue. It clashed with the shadow's inferno, causing a blast that cracked the false ground beneath them.
Outside the mirror realm, Aric stood before the closed flame-door.
"She's been inside too long," he whispered.
Ashar folded his arms. "The Pyre tests all its chosen. If she returns… she'll be transformed. Or lost."
The Ember Wraith knelt near the flame's edge. "If her heart is pure, she will survive. If not—"
He didn't finish.
Inside, Amina bled.
The mirror-self advanced, dragging a whip of fire behind her. "You're weakening. The truth is, you want this. You want me."
"I want control," Amina hissed. "Not corruption."
The shadow struck again—faster, harder.
Amina dodged, barely.
Then something shifted. The mirror-self suddenly froze, her flame faltering.
A voice echoed within Amina's mind.
"Remember who you fight for."
Her village.
Her mother's lullaby.
Aric's loyalty.
Even Ashar's warnings.
Not just fire… purpose.
Amina rose, slowly. The pain faded. Her flame calmed.
"I know now," she whispered. "The fire wasn't meant to rule me. It was meant to guide me."
Her flame flared—not wild, but steady. Controlled. Purposeful.
The mirror-self snarled. "You can't defeat me. I am you."
"No," Amina said, stepping forward. "You're who I might've become… but I chose different."
She raised her hand.
A burst of flame—not destructive, but cleansing—erupted.
The mirror-self screamed as cracks appeared on her form, like porcelain shattering.
"I am the flame," Amina said. "But I am not yours."
The mirror-self shattered into embers.
The void trembled.
Light enveloped Amina—warm, golden, radiant.
And then—
Darkness.
Amina's eyes opened.
She was back before the Pyre.
Aric grabbed her, pulling her into an embrace. "You're back! By the stars, you're back."
Ashar blinked, stunned. "You... survived."
The Ember Wraith knelt before her. "You've passed the Trial of Becoming. Few ever return. Fewer still return unchanged."
Amina stood, her aura glowing faintly. "I'm not the same. I saw what I could become."
"And now?" Ashar asked.
"Now," she said firmly, "I choose to become better."
Suddenly, the ground rumbled beneath them.
The flames of the Pyre surged.
The Wraith's head snapped toward the temple gates.
"They've found us."
"Who?" Aric asked.
The Wraith's voice was grave. "The ones who lit the fire long ago. They've come to finish what they started."