Lira hadn't slept since the scroll.
Not truly.
Her eyes closed, and she dreamed of fire.Not burning—remembering.Streets made of ash.Doors with no handles.A figure always watching her from behind a veil of smoke.
She woke each time before it could speak.
But the silence always followed her back.
It was in the walls now.
Not sound. Not whispers.
Weight.
She walked through Aegisspire and felt it—pressing behind her ribs, brushing the edge of her thoughts.
And sometimes… a word.
Not in Common. Not Elven.Just a sound."Ka—"Then silence.
Kael had started watching her.
Not directly.Not accusatory.
Just… quiet.
Longer looks. Slower responses.
Like he was waiting for her to confess something.
She didn't.
Because she didn't understand it yet.
The archives called to her.
Not with summons. Not with request.
Just that feeling again—like there was something unfinished beneath her feet.
So that night, while the others slept, she followed it.
Down past the public records.Past the restricted stacks.To the iron spiral stair that led into Hollowdeep—Level One.
Technically sealed.
Magically locked.
She picked the door in twelve seconds.
It opened without a sound.
The Hollowdeep felt wrong.
Not evil. Not cursed.
Just… old.
Too old to belong to the world above.
She passed empty relic shelves. Cracked containment wards. Glass tubes grown over with moss that didn't need sunlight.
And then she saw it:
A mirror.Like the one Kael had described.But shattered.
And on the floor before it, a symbol.
The glyph.
Her glyph.
Echo.
"I wouldn't have come here alone."
Lira froze.
Kael stood at the top of the stair.
No cloak. No sword.
Just eyes that were tired in a way no mortal had ever earned.
"You're following something," he said.
Lira didn't answer.
"You touched it."
Still nothing.
He stepped closer.
"You saw the fire, didn't you?"
Her hand dropped to her dagger.
Kael didn't flinch.
"You're not in danger from me."
Her voice came low and sharp.
"Then why does your name know mine?"
Silence.
Then:
"Because you were marked once," Kael said. "Long ago. Before you were born."
"What does that mean?"
"It means the story has started again."
The mirror behind her flickered.
Just for a moment.
And she saw herself—but standing in flame.
Eyes glowing. Mouth moving.
Saying something she didn't understand.
Yet.
"I didn't ask for this," she said.
"No one does," Kael replied. "But now the name remembers you."
"And what does that mean?"
Kael looked at the glyph.
"It means it won't forget you again."