The flame had not left her.
Elyria woke up to silence, the kind that came with unease. Her chamber was dim, lit only by the soft flicker of a single flame. But the moment she exhaled, it grew brighter. When she opened her palm, heat filled in her skin, like the sun had been tucked into her bones.
She sat up slowly. Her robe was wrinkled from sleep, but her skin was cool. But yet every breath she took felt heavy, charged. As if the fire had taken root inside her.
The trial was over. But something had changed.
When she stood up and stepped into the halls, the usual shadow-veiled attendants parted without speaking. One bowed so deeply it was nearly groveling. Elyria glanced back as she strolled further, but their faces were turned.
She touched the stone walls. They warmed beneath her fingers. Torches lit as she walked past. Even the air smelled different.
She turned a corner and found herself in an unfamiliar wing. The architecture was ancient here. The floor was cracked, the windows covered by ivy. It felt different..
A door creaked open on its own.
She should have turned back.
Instead, Elyria stepped inside.
The room was tall and spherical with a dome etched in runes that glowed faintly. Along the walls were mirrors covered in ash cloth. The center bore a sunken basin carved into black stone and at its heart, a single coal, glowing red.
When she stepped closer, the mirrors uncovered themselves.
And they showed not her reflection, but flames.
Images in fire: A woman cloaked in gold. A hand reaching through fire. A throne made of fused bone and stones. Kaelith, kneeling before a figure with Elyria's eyes.
Her knees buckled.
"I told you not to wander alone."
His voice snapped through the vision. She turned to see Kaelith standing at the door, his expression unreadable, but his shadows stood like smoke ready to strike.
Elyria straightened, refusing to look timid. "Look who came. I thought you were still avoiding me?"
He stepped inside. "I was giving you space."
"No. You were giving yourself distance."
Kaelith's jaw twitched. "You think I run from you?"
"No," she whispered. "I think you run from what might happen."
The air between them thickened.
She was still barefoot, her robe slipping slightly at one shoulder, revealing the trail of ash against her collarbone. His eyes dropped to it and lingered too long.
"You opened the Breathing Mirrors," he said, almost in awe.
"I don't know how I found it but they showed me something. I don't know if it was truth or warning."
"Maybe both."
She tilted her head. "Tell me what is going on, kaelith."
He reached her in a blink. His hand hovered near her cheek, then dropped. "I don't know, yet. But there are places that might. If you can endure them."
She stepped closer, challenging him. "Try me."
Kaelith exhaled, the movement visible in his shoulders. "The Breathing Halls. They were sealed after my father's... Departure. No one enters without blood permission."
Elyria met his gaze, her voice low. "Then unseal them."
For a moment, they just stood there, two storms on the verge of collision.
He brushed past her, the sleeve of his coat grazing her hand. "Well then, you have until moonrise to prepare."
And then he was gone.
She looked back at the mirrors. The last image still flickered.
Kaelith, on his knees. Her hand raised.
She wasn't sure who had burned whom.