The forest was silent.
Not the peaceful kind, but the ominous, too-quiet kind that made Seraphina's skin crawl. The kind of silence that knew something was watching.
She stepped carefully, her boots sinking slightly into the mossy ground. Dareth trailed behind her, not saying much since the Warg incident. He hadn't even asked her about the flames. Smart. She wouldn't have answered anyway.
Above, the moon was a silver coin pressed into the black velvet sky, watching… always watching.
"Something's wrong," Dareth whispered.
"Everything's been wrong since the day I met Lucien," she replied.
Dareth didn't argue.
They passed through an ancient grove, the trees older than any building she'd ever seen. Their twisted trunks curled toward the sky like claws. Between them, a mist began to roll—low and slow. The kind that carried whispers.
She paused. "Did you hear that?"
"No," Dareth said, but his hand was on his sword hilt.
They stood back-to-back instinctively.
The whisper returned. A rustle. A skitter. Something breathing.
Then—
A low growl.
Seraphina spun just as a creature stepped from the mist. Its body was all sinew and shadow, eyes like molten gold. It didn't snarl, didn't rush. It studied her.
The ground trembled slightly beneath her feet.
"Is that another Warg?" Dareth asked.
"No," Seraphina said, her voice dry. "It's worse."
The creature tilted its head. A flicker of recognition in its eyes.
And then it spoke.
"You carry her blood," it hissed, voice like crushed leaves. "You smell of fire and grief."
Seraphina's heart jumped into her throat.
"You speak?"
The creature stepped closer, revealing a mane of black tendrils and limbs too long to be natural. "All monsters do. Some of us just never got the chance."
"Back off," Dareth warned.
But the creature only looked at Seraphina. "She marked you."
"Who?" she asked.
"The Moon Queen. The one your mother betrayed. And now she watches you from her tower of bone."
Seraphina's hands curled into fists. "I don't know anything about a Moon Queen. Or my mother betraying anyone."
"Then perhaps it's time you did," it said. "Find the mirror in the lost city. And pray it shows you mercy."
The creature turned and melted into the mist like a bad dream.
Dareth exhaled sharply. "So… that happened."
Seraphina's breath shook. Her palms burned faintly. "We're being pulled into something way bigger than just Lucien."
"I think we were born into it."
She didn't argue.
---
They reached a cliff that overlooked the valley of Cindermoor by morning. Dareth set up camp while Seraphina stared into the distance.
Somewhere out there, Lucien was still pretending to be the hero. And somewhere beyond that, a mirror waited to expose truths she wasn't ready for.
"What if we don't like what we find?" she asked.
Dareth looked up from the fire. "Then we break the mirror."
She smiled despite herself. "You're terrible at metaphors."
"I'm good with swords."
That got a laugh.
He tossed her a chunk of dried meat. She caught it, sat beside him.
"You don't ask many questions," she said.
"I figure you'll tell me what you want me to know."
"Fair."
Silence stretched comfortably this time. Until she asked:
"Why do you help me?"
Dareth leaned back on his elbows. "Because when you screamed back there, I didn't think, I just ran. And when you caught fire and nearly burned that Warg in half, I didn't run away. I stayed. That means something."
"It means you're reckless."
"Maybe," he said. "But I think it means I believe in something again."
Her smile faded. "Don't believe in me too much, Dareth."
"Why not?"
"Because I'm scared I might become her. This 'Moon Queen.' What if that's what I'm changing into?"
"Then we'll chain you to a tree during full moons."
She laughed again, but it sounded hollow.
---
Later, as Dareth dozed off beside the fire, Seraphina wandered to the edge of the cliff.
Her hands ached again.
Not a burn. Not pain.
Hunger.
Not for food. For power.
A warm, golden glow shimmered across her palms—subtle, but growing. Like fire trapped beneath her skin. A wildness she didn't understand, but could no longer deny.
"I see you've begun to bloom," a voice said from behind her.
She spun.
And there he was.
Tall. Beautiful. Smirking.
Vael.
The last time she'd seen him, he'd vanished into ash.
"You're not real," she said.
He stepped forward. "And yet here I am."
"How?"
"Does it matter?" he asked, brushing his black hair from his face. "You called to me."
"I did not."
"Maybe not with your mouth, but your soul screamed."
Seraphina backed away.
"You want answers. About your mother. About Lucien. About yourself." Vael's eyes darkened. "I have them."
"I don't trust you."
He smiled wider. "That's wise. But you need me."
She should have turned. Run. Screamed.
Instead, she asked: "Why me?"
"Because you're the last of her line," he said. "The daughter of the fire witch and the betrayer. Born under a cursed moon. Marked by power older than time."
Vael stepped closer.
"Come with me, Seraphina. I can take you to the mirror."
She shook her head. "Not without Dareth."
Vael rolled his eyes. "Of course. The mortal knight. How… quaint."
"He's coming."
Vael studied her for a moment, then sighed. "Very well. But understand this—when you see the truth, when the mirror cracks open your soul… he will not look at you the same way again."
"I'll take that risk."
Vael smirked. "Then let's go, little flame."
---
The next morning, Dareth woke to find Seraphina standing over him with her pack ready and a firm glint in her eye.
"We're going to the Mirror," she said.
He groaned. "We don't even know where it is."
"I do now."
He narrowed his eyes. "Who told you?"
"Someone I shouldn't trust."
"…But we're trusting him anyway?"
Seraphina gave him a tight smile. "Do you want answers, or not?"
He stood, brushing off his coat. "You're the worst influence I've ever met."
"Get used to it."
They followed the path Vael had shown her in a vision—deep through the bonewood trees and into the lands where maps faded to fog.
As they walked, Dareth asked, "This guy… what's he like?"
"Tall. Annoying. Probably evil."
"And you trust him?"
"No. But I'm learning that the truth doesn't always come from good people."
"Fair," Dareth muttered. "Still want to stab him though."
"Get in line."
---
By dusk, they reached a stone archway carved with runes.
Vael was waiting.
He leaned against the stone with all the casual arrogance of someone who knew he was irresistible.
"Took you long enough," he said.
Dareth narrowed his eyes. "You're Vael?"
"In the flesh."
Seraphina stepped between them. "You said the mirror was close."
Vael gestured behind the arch. "Just past the river of glass."
"And the catch?" Dareth asked.
Vael grinned. "It's guarded. By something ancient. Something hungry."
Seraphina sighed. "Of course it is."
Vael extended a hand. "Shall we?"
She hesitated—then took it.
And the moment she did, a pulse of heat shot up her arm. Her eyes flared gold for a split second. She felt… whole.
Vael smiled knowingly. "Ah. You feel it, don't you? The bond awakening."
"I feel like punching you."
He laughed. "Good. That means it's working."