Chapter Twelve
The Drowning Dream
It wasn't water.
It felt like silk and shadows, like memory and mist, all swirling around Amelia as she floated through the dark.
She wasn't cold. She wasn't scared.
She was just... elsewhere.
Then a ripple split the blackness—and she stood.
No longer a girl at the heart of a magical lake.
She was in a room.
Warm. Familiar.
A small cottage with lace curtains and a wooden cradle. And in the cradle—a baby. Black hair, soft cheeks.
Herself.
Amelia stepped closer, heart hammering. "This is... my old house?"
A voice spoke from the shadows behind her.
"The night I gave you up."
Amelia turned slowly.
Elvira stood there—tall, elegant, dressed in a long green cloak. Her eyes glowed with sadness and power.
"Is this real?" Amelia whispered.
"A memory," Elvira said. "But also more. The lake allows you to see what it remembers—if you're brave enough to look."
She walked toward the cradle, brushing a finger across the baby's cheek.
"I had no choice," she whispered. "The lake demanded a Seer... and I was the last."
Amelia swallowed. "You made a deal. You gave yourself to protect me."
Elvira nodded. "And in doing so, I broke the lake's pattern. It wanted you then. It still wants you now. But I carved space—for you to live."
The dream shifted.
The room melted into a watery vision: Elvira walking alone into the lake, her arms raised, eyes glowing. Around her, reflections chanted—twisted versions of herself, of others, all merging with the water.
"You see," Elvira said beside Amelia, "the lake isn't just a place. It's a spirit. Ancient. Hungry. It collects images, memories, people. And when you're born with Sight, it never lets go."
"Why me?"
"Because you're stronger than I ever was."
Suddenly, the memory fractured.
Cracks tore through the scene. The sky above splintered. The lake roared—an angry, deep voice shaking the world.
"You've seen enough!" it bellowed.
Elvira gripped Amelia's hand. "The Mirror Core is real. You must find it and rewrite the truth before the lake does. It's trying to twist the story—to keep us both buried."
The dream split open like shattered glass.
And Amelia fell.
⸻
She gasped awake on the platform, Marah's hands pressed to her chest, Kaia hovering over her.
"You were gone!" Kaia cried. "Three minutes—you just stopped breathing!"
"I saw her," Amelia choked out. "Not just a vision. My mother. She's alive in the lake. She gave herself to protect me, and now the lake wants me back."
Marah looked grim. "Then it's time we stop playing safe."
Kaia nodded. "We find the Mirror Core. End this."
Amelia stood slowly, the glow of the chains still wrapped around her wrist like a bracelet now—warm and alive.
She looked up.
"I'm ready."
The glow from the chain-turned-bracelet pulsed softly against Amelia's skin as she steadied herself. Her legs still felt like jelly, her breath shaky, but her mind was clear.
Crystal clear.
Elvira was alive—and waiting.
Kaia helped her to her feet. "You were speaking while you were unconscious... like chanting."
Amelia blinked. "I don't remember that."
Marah watched her with narrowed eyes. "The lake was trying to rewrite you. Dig inside your mind, plant seeds of doubt. But you fought back."
"Because of her," Amelia said, looking at the bracelet. "My mom. She's... part of me now. And I think the lake knows that's a problem."
The water beneath the platform rippled, as if agreeing.
Suddenly, the silence was broken by a cracking sound.
One of the mirror pillars surrounding the platform began to fracture, a dark line running down its center. The reflection inside it—Amelia, only older and pale-eyed—grinned wickedly.
Kaia stepped back. "That's not normal."
The mirror shattered.
Out stepped the reflection version of Amelia. Older. Colder. Dressed in flowing black with eyes that glowed the same eerie red as the Gate's.
Marah pulled her staff up in defense. "A reflection can't manifest without the Core's permission. That means—"
"That means it's already watching us," Kaia finished.
The reflection looked at Amelia and tilted her head. "I always wondered what it would feel like to face myself. You look so small."
"I'm fifteen," Amelia snapped.
The reflection chuckled darkly. "And still talking like a human. How cute."
Amelia stepped forward. "I'm not scared of you."
"You should be," the reflection said softly. "I'm what happens when you stop fighting the lake and start becoming it."
Amelia's pendant flared. The bracelet around her wrist lit up.
The reflection flinched.
Kaia's eyes widened. "You're repelling her."
Amelia focused, her hands clenched. "You're just noise. I know who I am."
A surge of blue light burst from the pendant.
The reflection screamed—its image shattering into glass and mist, dissolving into the glowing pool.
Silence returned.
For a second, no one moved.
Then Marah let out a low whistle. "You just erased a manifested reflection. That's... not supposed to be possible."
Amelia exhaled, the glow fading.
Kaia stared at her. "The Core's awake. That reflection wasn't just a message—it was a warning."
Amelia nodded, her voice steady now. "Then let's answer it."
She looked toward the only path left—an arched stone bridge that had begun to rise from the lake's surface, curving away into the shadows of the cavern.
Toward the Mirror Core.
And possibly, the lake's final truth.