Night did not fall gently over the kingdom.It pressed down—heavy, restless, watching.
The palace stood silent, yet something inside it was awake.
Mirror sat alone in the servants' quarters, his back against cold stone. The candle beside him flickered, then bent low, as if bowing to an unseen force. He frowned. Fire always listened to him—but tonight, it trembled.
Then pain struck.
A sharp burn tore across his chest.
Mirror gasped and clutched his shirt. Beneath the cloth, the hidden mark—one that had slept for years—began to glow. Not bright. Not loud. But alive.
"Not now…" he whispered, teeth clenched.
The mark pulsed once.Twice.
And with every beat, one name echoed in his mind.
Myreiya.
Across the palace, Queen Myreiya woke with a start.
Her breath came fast, uneven. The room felt smaller, the air thicker. She pressed her hand to her chest, feeling an ache she could not explain—like a wound that was never cut, yet never healed.
The crown rested beside her bed.
It had moved.
She was sure of it.
Myreiya rose slowly and approached the mirror near her window. Her reflection stared back—calm face, steady eyes—but for a heartbeat, the glass showed something else.
A shadow behind her.A crown soaked in blood.A flame shaped like a mark.
She staggered back.
"What is happening to me?" she whispered.
Outside, thunder rolled without clouds.
Mirror collapsed to one knee as memories crashed into him—voices chanting in a forgotten tongue, chains breaking, a throne cracking under fire. He saw gods watching from above… and one of them turning away in fear.
The mark was no longer silent.
It was calling.
Not to him.
To the Queen.
Mirror forced himself up. Sweat soaked his skin, his calm finally breaking. For the first time since entering the palace, fear touched his heart—not for himself, but for what was awakening between them.
"If she learns the truth now…" he muttered, "the kingdom will burn before it can choose a side."
The pain faded suddenly.
Too suddenly.
That scared him more.
Morning arrived with unease.
The court gathered, whispering of strange signs—cracked temple bells, animals refusing to enter the city, priests waking from the same dream.
Myreiya sat on the throne, listening, watching.
Her gaze fell on Mirror standing among the servants.
For a brief moment, their eyes met.
The mark on Mirror's chest burned again—soft, dangerous.
Myreiya felt it too.
Neither spoke.
Neither understood.
But both knew one truth now—
Something ancient had awakened.And it had chosen them.