The mirror was whole again.

Kael stood before it in silence, dust still clinging to his clothes, the ember-shaped mark pulsing faintly beneath his glove. He had wrapped it hastily the moment he got out, not because of the pain—but because he couldn’t explain it.

Not to anyone. Not yet.

Behind that glass, he had seen things that didn’t belong in this world.

And worse—some of it did.

He turned away.

But the corridor wasn’t empty anymore.

A figure stood at the edge of the broken archway, just far enough to be in shadow, just close enough to be seen.

Rei.

She leaned against the wall with one boot tucked behind the other, arms folded, and an unreadable expression on her face.

“Wasn’t expecting to find you down here alone,” she said lightly. “Thought you hated quiet places.”

Kael’s spine stiffened.

He forced his features into a calm mask. “Didn’t realize I needed a chaperone.”

Rei stepped into the light. Her short, coal-black hair was a little windswept, and she had that familiar half-smile—the one she wore when she knew more than she should.

“You didn’t. But you took the east stairwell, past the sealed chamber and straight into a forbidden wing,” she said casually. “And the wards spiked like hell when you touched something.”

Kael’s heart dropped into his stomach.

“So.” She stopped just short of him. “You want to tell me what happened?”

Flashback: Kael & Rei’s History

Rei had been with the academy a year longer. Quick with knives, quicker with questions. They weren’t friends exactly—but not strangers either. She was the only one who didn’t flinch when Kael burned things by accident during his first year.

She called him “matchstick” once.

He’d hated it.

Still did.

Kael shrugged. “Didn’t find much. Just dust.”

She didn’t blink.

“You’re lying.”

It wasn’t an accusation. It was a statement of fact.

Kael met her eyes anyway. “Believe what you want.”

For a long moment, silence stretched between them like a drawn bowstring.

Then Rei stepped forward—and to his surprise, reached for his wrist.

Kael pulled back instinctively.

Too slow.

Her fingers caught the edge of his glove and yanked it halfway down before he twisted away.

The mark was visible.

Just for a heartbeat.

But enough.

Rei went still.

“...That wasn’t there before,” she said softly.

Kael’s jaw clenched.

“It’s nothing. Burned it by accident.”

“Bullshit.” Her voice was quiet, but sharp.

She took a step forward. Kael stepped back.

“That mark—Kael, that looked like a brand. Sigil work.”

“I said it’s nothing,” he snapped.

They stared at each other again.

This time, something unreadable passed through Rei’s eyes. Not fear. Not awe.

Worry.

“You don’t get to make this decision alone,” she said, quieter now. “Whatever you found—it’s bigger than just you, isn’t it?”

Kael’s lips parted.

But what was he supposed to say?

I saw a chamber filled with the echoes of dead bearers.

I saw my father’s name etched into a wall like a warning.

I think something ancient just woke up—and I think it knows me.

So instead, he looked away and muttered, “Leave it alone.”

Rei didn’t answer. Not right away.

Then she stepped back, hands up.

“Fine. Your secret. For now.”

“But whatever you saw in that mirror?”

“It saw you back.”

She turned on her heel and walked away.

Kael didn’t move until the echoes of her footsteps faded.

Only then did he sink against the cold stone wall, breathing shallow.

He pulled off the glove slowly.

The ember sigil glowed faintly, but no longer burned.

Not on the surface.

“You don’t get to make this decision alone.”

Maybe not.

But he would anyway.

Because whatever was waiting… he wasn’t ready to let someone else burn for it.

Not again.

Elsewhere…

A hooded figure stood in a ruined observatory, watching a shard of glass tremble in their palm.

They smiled.

“The flame bearer stirs. Good.”