The Ravenshade estate didn't creak.
It breathed.
Wind coiled between the pillars like a whispering ghost, and the walls seemed to lean in as Seraphina passed. The lamps never flickered unless you lied. The books never opened unless they knew you were ready.
And tonight, they were opening.
Seraphina sat cross-legged on the floor of the old library wing, a room she was definitely not allowed to be in—so of course it was the first place she came.
The scroll lay beside her, humming softly with an energy that knew her. She'd tried to show it to her mother. Isolde had gone still. Tight. Quiet. Which made her more curious.
She pulled out an aged tome with a binding like black glass, marked only by a mirrored symbol across its cover. It shimmered with dust and something older than dust.
The page opened to her touch.
And what she read… didn't feel new. It felt like an echo.
---
> "Echo-born.
> A term first whispered during the Age of Splintering.
> When the veil between worlds cracked, and souls tethered to the Old Flame began slipping through.
> Echo-borns are not reborn.
They are remembered.
The dead who did not rest."
---
Seraphina's throat tightened.
She read on.
> "Born not from womb but from memory. These children carry the scars, instincts, and sometimes the grief of who they were in a life long buried. They are not made—they return. Pulled from the Mirror, reborn into flesh. Their presence distorts fate."
There was a sketch. Two figures, side by side. A child wrapped in flame. A child cloaked in shadow.
Their eyes were empty… like they were watching something that hadn't happened yet.
> "Echo-borns are rare. One in ten million. Most die before awakening. Some are culled. Others are hidden."
> "They are drawn to one another."
> "When one awakens, the other hears it like thunder."
Seraphina's hand went to her chest.
Why did that sound like—
> "They are not a blessing. They are a warning."
> "And when the Mirror Realm shatters again… they will be the first to bleed."
Only one boy crossed her mind
"Lioren "
---
The scroll beside her twitched.
She gasped. A small spark burst from it—not fire, not quite. It shimmered and spoke in a way she couldn't describe.
And in a flash—
She saw a forest.
She saw a child screaming in flames.
She saw someone giving her a cookie with a smile that meant death.
She jolted back, breath ragged, eyes wide.
> "What… was that—"
Her father's voice cut through the silence.
> "Enough."
She looked up, breathless.
Caelum stood in the archway, half-shrouded in shadow. His hands were folded behind his back. His wind-braided cloak rippled with invisible air.
> "You shouldn't be reading that."
> "Why not?" she challenged. "What am I?"
Caelum sighed—like a man watching a storm he couldn't stop.
> "You're… one of them."
> "How many are there?"
> "Two."
Her heart nearly stopped. Her suspicion has just been confirmed
"It's lioren, isn't it "
He hesitated, shocked even.
He whispered and stared in horror
" How did you know that "
---
Later, in the Ravenshade war room
Caelum pressed his palm to a map of the known world. Runes flickered across its edges. Isolde stood beside him, hair bound in silver cords, her mouth tight.
> "She's starting to remember," Caelum murmured.
> "And the scroll?"
> "It showed her the fire."
Isolde shut her eyes. "Then the seals are weakening."
Caelum clenched his jaw.
> "If she remembers everything too fast—"
> "She won't," Isolde cut in. "Not yet. But it's only a matter of time. And when the other awakens…"
They both looked toward the Mirror fragment suspended in the center of the room. A pulse of cold shadow rippled across it like breath.
Caelum's voice dropped.
> "We need to talk to Thalies before it's too late "