Chapter 13 Aug 18, 2025 There was no fire, no wind, no screaming dragons. Just a room with a mirror. It didn't look magical-no glowing runes, no smoke curling from its edges. Just glass, framed in old stone, quiet and waiting. That made it worse. Mira's boots echoed on the floor as she stepped forward. The others waited outside, one by one taking their turn in silence. This was the Mirror Trial. The last one before the next culling. No weapons. No partners. Just you-and whatever version of yourself the mirror thought you were hiding. A quiet voice called her name. She swallowed and stepped through the veil. Cold air wrapped around her skin like breath. The mirror shimmered once, like a ripple on water, then cleared. She expected her reflection. She didn't get it. Instead, she saw herself through someone else's eyes. Eyes that knew her. Watched her. Craved her. Her hair was a mess-wild from the wind, probably full of ash-but she didn't care. Her eyes met his, sharp, challenging, daring him to look away. She wasn't trying to be pretty. She wasn't trying to be anything but herself. Her body didn't shrink back like it used to. It stood tall. Solid. Curvy in all the ways she used to try to hide. But now-now she saw it in his gaze. The way it lingered on her mouth when she laughed, the way his eyes traced her jaw when she argued like her words were something worth chasing. He wasn't disgusted. He wasn't mocking her. He wanted her. Not in a soft, safe way-but in that raw, unsaid, teeth-clenching kind of way. And Mira wasn't sure what scared her more: that he saw her like that... or that part of her wanted to be seen. Really seen. By him. "Bastian," she whispered, stunned. The vision tilted. Her mirrored self reached for him. He stepped back. Not from disgust-but fear. Not of her. Of what she made him feel. The way he looked at her... Mira felt breathless. It wasn't just longing. It was undoing. The mirror shimmered again. Gone. She stumbled out of the chamber, knees trembling. She didn't speak to anyone. Her eyes were red. Her hands clenched and unclenched as she walked back to her barracks. She didn't notice the whispers. Or Tessan's smirk. Or the way Bastian stood stone-still, waiting for his turn to enter the trial. He went in. And the door closed behind him like a seal. Inside, the mirror waited. Silent. Brutal. Bastian stepped forward with a soldier's steps. The mirror flickered once, then twisted. He saw her. Not in the way he was used to-snarling, laughing, impossible. No. He saw her leaving. Really leaving. Her back turned, shoulders stiff, her braid swinging like the final slash of a sword. No fire. No fight. Like she'd already decided he wasn't worth one last word. The space she left behind didn't feel empty. It felt gutted. Stripped bare. Her absence thundered louder than any dragon's scream, and it hit him like a blade straight through the ribs-slow, twisting, cruel. "Mira," he breathed. His voice cracked on her name. She didn't turn. He lunged forward, desperate, reckless, every instinct screaming to reach her. But the ground beneath him shattered like glass. His boots hit nothing. His arms sliced through smoke. She was already too far. Already gone. The agony wasn't just in losing her. It was in the brutal, choking truth that she'd never really been his to lose-because he'd never had the guts to tell her. That she was the one thing in this world he didn't want to conquer. Just keep. Just hold. He hit the floor, knees slamming hard enough to rattle bone. His breath came in sharp, broken gasps. His hands curled into fists against the cold. The mirror rippled in front of him, images twisting, blurring. He burst through the veil, face drenched in sweat, jaw locked. Someone tried to speak to him, but he didn't hear. He stormed past Mira without looking. She rose from where she'd been sitting on the bench, halfway to calling after him-but he turned the corner and vanished. The rest of the day passed in a daze. Mira kept her head down during drills. Liorith was restless, mirroring her mood. When Bastian entered the arena later, he didn't glance her way. Not once. Even during formation adjustments, he kept his distance. Not cold-just absent. Like someone had yanked the cord between them and let it go slack. Mira clenched her jaw and pushed harder. Every move during combat practice was sharper. Every response to her instructors more clipped. But her mind kept circling the same thing. That look. The way her mirrored self had looked when seen through his eyes. She caught flashes of him the rest of the evening. Down the corridor. Across the courtyard. Always just far enough to not speak. Always with that same locked expression. Until dinner. She walked in, late. The hall was quieter than usual, conversations dulled by the weight of the day's trial. She grabbed a tray and turned-and froze. There, in her usual seat at the far edge of the long table, sat Tessan. And she wasn't alone. She was leaned in close to Bastian, voice low, too casual. Her arm brushed his. He didn't pull back. Mira froze. But Bastian didn't even seem to notice. Or maybe he did-and let it happen anyway. Because getting too close to Mira had consequences. He'd seen them. In flickers of fire and falling ash, in that cursed vision that still clawed at his chest at night. Her blood. His hands. Her scream. Tessan wasn't warmth, but she was safe. Predictable. She didn't ask questions with her eyes or make his pulse stutter just by breathing in his direction. So he sat still. Let Tessan touch him. And told himself this was better. Safer. For Mira. For both of them. Even if it felt like betrayal. Tessan looked up. Her eyes met Mira's and held them like a snare. Then she leaned even closer, her voice honeyed and sharp at once. "Looks like your mirror lied."