The Mirror did not break.
It accepted.
The moment her foot crossed the threshold, the surface of the Deeproot Mirror rippled outward like a pond swallowing a falling leaf. The Druid did not sink. She did not fall. She stepped through—into the reflection.
Kaelen lunged forward. "Wait—!"
But it was too late.
She vanished.
The world on the other side wasn't upside-down.
It was twisted.
A forest that pulsed with life too loud, too alive—leaves that whispered secrets not yet spoken, vines that grew and died in seconds. Trees that leaned toward her when she passed.
It was the forest without her restraint.
The version of the wild that had never been tamed.
And it sang with her voice.
She stood in a clearing of black grass, surrounded by beasts that were not fully beasts—staglike creatures with bark antlers and vines trailing from their mouths. They bowed their heads as she passed.
The sky shimmered a deep emerald. A second moon hovered, weeping slow drops of glowing sap.
And at the center of it all, sitting upon a throne of roots and bone, was her.
The Other Self.
Identical in form.
Hair longer. Eyes brighter—brilliant green with no white at all. Her skin was laced with natural armor. Bark. Vines. Sporeflowers bloomed on her shoulders.
She smiled as the Druid approached.
"You came back."
The Druid felt her pulse quicken. "What… is this place?"
The Other Self rose, walking barefoot across the moss. Her footsteps bloomed flowers.
"This is the Wild Without Chains," she said. "The part of you that didn't bind the Verdant Gate. The part that let the world break—so it could grow something new."
"I sealed the Gate to protect everyone."
"You sealed me," her double said. "You denied what you were. What you could become."
The Druid's pendant glowed, but flickered—uncertain.
The Other Self stepped close now, face inches away.
"You were chosen by the land itself. You were never meant to restrain it."
She reached out and touched the mark on the Druid's wrist.
It pulsed with gold—then green—then both.
"I'm not your enemy. I am your potential."
A tremor shook the forest.
The trees shuddered.
And from the sky, a shriek echoed.
The Other Self turned her head, smiling faintly. "They've found the Mirror. The Wildlings. The ones born from our failure to finish the Rite."
"They're breaking through?" the Druid asked.
"They already have."
The Other Self placed a seed into the Druid's hand—smooth, black, etched with a faint spiral rune.
"This is me," she said. "Not all of me. Just enough. Take it. Plant it. Use it."
"What happens if I do?"
"You won't be me… but you won't be who you were, either."
The Druid stared at the seed.
Then closed her fist around it.
"I'll grow into what I choose to be."
The Other Self smiled wider. "Good answer."
The Druid turned.
And walked back through the Mirror.
She returned gasping.
Kaelen caught her mid-fall. "You were gone for seconds. I thought you—"
"They're coming. The Wildlings. Through the Deeproot paths. We have to stop them."
She opened her hand.
Revealed the seed.
Kaelen stared at it. "What is that?"
The Druid stood tall.
Eyes glowing green-gold.
"A piece of me I buried long ago."