Dawn brought an uneasy quiet. Selka led Caelum beyond the highlands, down into valleys littered with skeletal trees. Here, patches of shimmering ice reflected impossible sights: visions of floating islands, red skies, rivers of molten gold — places Caelum had never seen.
"Mirrors of other worlds," Selka explained. "Weak points in the veil. Places where the threads of fate brush against each other."
As they camped that night, Caelum stared into one of the ice mirrors. Flickering in its depths was the image of a smiling young person dancing on a gust of wind — someone who looked almost like them, but with eyes bright and carefree.
Who are you? Caelum wondered.
Selka watched quietly. "You're seeing what should not be seen. The worlds drift closer than they should."
Thunder boomed on the horizon. Caelum stood, katana resting on their shoulder. "Then we don't have time to waste. We have to find the Shrine."
And in the darkness behind them, something moved — something that had followed since the frozen labyrinth, eyes reflecting the same pale blue light as Caelum's.