The wind shifted just after midnight.
Lyra stirred in her sleep, the bone dagger tucked beneath her blanket, her body sore but satisfied after the day's brutal training. The fire had died down to glowing embers, Kael's steady breathing the only sound besides the rustle of leaves.
Then, she heard it.
A whisper.
Soft. Barely audible.
Her name.
"Lyra…"
She sat up slowly, heart stuttering. The forest was dark, the kind of thick black that wrapped around your bones and made even the stars feel far away. Kael didn't move. Soreya was deep in trance beyond the inner roots. But Lyra heard it again, closer this time.
"Lyra…"
A thread of cold slipped down her spine.
She stood, grabbing her dagger out of instinct, not comfort. The blade warmed instantly, reacting to the spike of fear in her blood. She stepped outside the tree's embrace and into the mist-slick clearing.
"Who's there?" she whispered.
No answer.
Only silence, heavy, waiting.
She turned, scanning the shadows between the trees. Nothing moved. Nothing breathed. But the whisper came again, this time behind her ear.
"You don't belong here."
Lyra spun, dagger raised. Nothing.
She stepped back. Her breath came faster now, fogging the cool air. She wasn't hallucinating. This voice wasn't from a dream.
It was inside her mind.
"You don't know what you are," the voice said, quieter now. "But I do."
"Show yourself," Lyra demanded. Her voice didn't tremble, but only because she forced it not to.
The shadows thickened in front of her. And then… they shaped.
A figure emerged, not real, not solid. Smoke and moonlight shaped into something vaguely human, with eyes like silver cracks in a frozen lake.
"You're not supposed to be here," Lyra said, stepping back.
"And yet," the shadow replied, voice sharp and smooth like broken glass, "here you are. Little phoenix. Little lie."
Lyra gritted her teeth. "You're not real."
"No. I am memory," it said. "A voice buried too deep. But you called to me when you touched the fire."
"I didn't call anyone."
The thing laughed, low, knowing.
"You bled into the old magic. You cracked the door. And now you hear me."
It drifted closer. Lyra's dagger flared, hot in her hand. "What do you want?"
"To warn you," it said. "You think you're training to protect yourself. But you're walking toward the very thing that will devour you. The Ascended don't fear your flame. They crave it."
"You're lying."
"Am I?" The shadow tilted its head. "Ask the boy with gold eyes. Ask him about the mirror. Ask what he saw when it showed him your fate."
Lyra's fingers tightened on the dagger. "You don't know anything about him."
"I know he's hiding something. I know he's afraid. Not of them. Of you."
The shadows wavered.
"I will see you again, Lyra Vale," the voice whispered. "When the sky splits. When your blood sings. I will be waiting."
And then, nothing.
No figure. No whisper.
Just the wind.
Just the trees.
And the sound of Kael's voice shouting her name.
He burst into the clearing with his blade drawn and eyes burning with panic. "Lyra!"
"I'm here," she called back, chest heaving.
Kael rushed to her side, eyes scanning the forest like a wild animal. "What happened? Why are you out here?"
"I… I heard something." She looked toward the place where the shadow had vanished. "A voice. It knew my name. It knew about you."
Kael's entire body went still.
"What did it say about me?" he asked quietly.
Lyra hesitated. "That you're afraid of me."
Kael didn't answer.
"Kael," she pressed, stepping closer. "Is it true? Did the mirror show you something you're not telling me?"
He looked away, jaw clenched so tight she could see the muscles twitching. "Yes."
Lyra's heart dropped.
She tried to steady her voice. "What did you see?"
Kael turned slowly, his gold eyes glowing faintly in the dark. "I saw you burning."
"I already knew that part."
"I saw you unmaking everything. The Ascended. The rebellion. Me."
Lyra blinked. "You think I'll… hurt you?"
"No," he said. "I think you'll be forced to choose. And I won't be the side you choose."
Silence fell between them. It ached more than any wound.
"I'm not her," she whispered. "Not the Lyra in the mirror."
"Not yet."
"Then believe in this version of me," she said, voice cracking. "The one standing in front of you."
Kael looked at her for a long moment, the pain in his eyes as raw as hers.
"I want to," he said.
And that was the closest to hope she'd get from him.
Back inside, Soreya was already waiting. Her expression was grim.
"You heard the Echo," she said.
Lyra nodded slowly. "What was it?"
"Not what. Who," Soreya corrected. "An Echo is the memory of a soul lost to corrupted flame. There are many. They linger in the spaces between life and prophecy."
"Why now?" Kael asked.
"Because she touched the truth," Soreya said, looking at Lyra. "The deeper you go, the louder the past becomes. And not all pasts stay dead."
Lyra swallowed. "It said it would be waiting."
"It will be," Soreya said. "But that's not what matters. What matters is that it knows you. And if it knows, others will know soon too."
Kael's hand went to his blade again, out of habit now.
Lyra stared at the embers in the fire.
"I didn't mean to call anything," she said. "I didn't even know I could."
"You are the Phoenix reborn," Soreya murmured. "Every breath you take, you pull threads that stretch across time. It was only a matter of time before something pulled back."
Lyra looked to Kael.
Then to the flame.
Something inside her whispered again, but this time it wasn't a voice of fear.
It was a challenge.
A promise.
She didn't know what the future held. Didn't know who she'd become or what the mirror had truly shown.
But she did know one thing.
She wasn't going to run from it.
Not anymore.