I don't sleep anymore.
Not truly.
When I close my eyes, I don't dream
I remember.
Fire. Chains. Voices that spoke in forgotten tongues. A circle of kings bowing to a girl whose face was not mine, but whose soul felt like home.
I woke with my fingers humming. My blood was glowing faintly under my skin.
Magic. Not learned reclaimed.
The palace is built on top of the Ruined Sanctum. Every student of magic knows that. But none are allowed entry. It's sealed. Forgotten.
Except walls are only locked to those who knock.
I descended through the forbidden east wing, where moonlight bends strangely and paintings whisper when touched. The door to the Sanctum pulsed with runes danger, decay, death.
I kissed it.
And it opened.
Inside, the air was thick with memories.
A cathedral drowned in darkness. Pillars cracked by time. At its center: a mirror. But not one that showed your face.
It showed your truth.
And when I stepped before it, I saw her.
Not Seraphina.
Not the girl who was betrayed.
But the creature beneath.
Hair like fire-threads. Eyes like eclipses. Wings made of unlight and thunder. She opened her mouth and I spoke:
"I am the unmarked god. I am the thing that survived prophecy."
The mirror shattered.
But not from breaking.
From kneeling.
The ground shook.
I smiled.
And behind me, the runes on the walls began to weep light.