The sky above the forest had changed.
Where once it burned orange with the glow of fire-magic and distant stars, it now stretched pale and cold—a high canvas brushed with slow-drifting clouds. The scent of pine had thinned. The trees grew thinner, taller, like they were stretching toward something unseen on the horizon.
They were leaving the forest behind. And with it, the comfort of all they'd begun to rebuild.
Kai stood at the edge of the clearing with his travel pack slung over his shoulder. His fingertips brushed the strap absently, like touching something steady could anchor him. He was wrapped in a deep charcoal cloak, embroidered with runes Celira had drawn by hand to ward off frost and vision magic.
Lucien approached quietly, his own cloak catching the wind like a wing. His steps were silent, but his presence always buzzed in Kai's awareness now—threaded through him like silver warmth. "You okay?" Lucien asked. Kai turned to him, brows furrowed, but not with fear. "I don't know what the Mirror will show. That scares me more than Watchers or shadows."
Lucien's expression softened. "Then we'll face it together." A hand slipped into Kai's. Their fingers laced without hesitation. Behind them, Rhydian and Celira were finishing their final sweep of the camp. Rhydian caught Kai's eye and gave him a brief nod—one of quiet reassurance. There was no more tension between them. Not like before. They'd made peace. Not every bond was meant to be romantic. Some were more sacred than that.
Kai returned the nod. Then turned back toward the narrowing path that led north. Snow was already dusting the earth in soft powder. A new road waited, cloaked in ice and mystery.
They set out.
The northern path took them through winding trails and low hills that shimmered with frost. The deeper they walked, the quieter the world became. Trees began to twist with ancient runes carved into their bark—faintly glowing blue as if still alive with whispers from the past. Celira was the first to recognize the signs.
"This forest was once a magical boundary," she murmured. "A place where only bonded pairs could pass safely. It was built by those who came before the Watchers—protectors of prophecy." Kai blinked, then turned his eyes upward. The light here was strange—muted, like walking beneath a frozen memory. "What happens if someone who isn't bonded tries to enter?" he asked.
Rhydian answered, stepping beside Celira. "They get lost. Pulled into dream-loops. Visions. Sometimes, they forget who they are." Lucien gave Kai's hand a squeeze. "We'll stay close." Their bond shimmered faintly between them now. It wasn't glowing outward anymore, not visibly. But Kai felt it—a current beneath his skin. A warmth that protected him from the cold.
As they passed under the arching frost trees, snow began to fall gently around them, forming a quiet veil of white.
And then, the dreams began.
***********
That night, they camped in a glade lit by soft blue mushrooms that grew between the roots of a crystal-veined tree. The glow shimmered like starlight fallen to earth.
Kai couldn't sleep. The fire was warm, Lucien was dozing beside him, one arm loosely draped over his waist, and yet—his mind wouldn't still. When he finally closed his eyes, the dream swept him instantly. He was standing in a glass temple.
Dozens of reflections shimmered all around him—endless versions of himself and Lucien and Rhydian, each moving differently. In one, he stood alone, his hair turned to pure silver. In another, Lucien was crowned in white fire. One version showed Rhydian kneeling at his side like a sworn knight.
And then—he saw one that made his heart stop. Himself—older, eyes burning gold—standing in front of an army made of starlight. Lucien at his right hand. Rhydian at his left. A war of light and shadow behind them. The dream twisted. The temple cracked. And the Mirror of Threads glowed red. Kai jolted awake with a gasp, sitting up in the snow. Lucien stirred instantly, his voice soft and alarmed. "Kai—? What is it?"
Kai shook his head, hand to his heart. "A dream… but not mine. I think the forest is showing me futures. Possibilities." Lucien pulled him close. "Then we'll face them together. Not all threads come true." Kai whispered into his shoulder, "But some… feel too real."
Lucien didn't answer right away.
Instead, he wrapped his arms around him tighter, anchoring them both in the now.
*************
By the third day, the forest gave way to frost cliffs. Ice creaked underfoot, and wind howled through hollowed stone arches carved long ago. They were close now—Celira said the Mirror's temple lay just beyond the frozen peaks. But something else lay in wait. As they passed into a crevasse of crystal-blue ice, Rhydian halted sharply, hand on his sword. Lucien drew Kai behind him instantly.
From the snow emerged bone spirits—creatures of frost and forgotten memory. Their bodies were shaped from skeletal remains and packed ice. They moved silently, faceless, but full of presence.
"They guard the Mirror," Celira whispered. "They don't attack—unless the bond is false." Kai's heart raced. The spirits approached slowly. One reached forward, its hand hovering inches from where Lucien's fingers still curled around Kai's wrist. Kai held his breath. The spirit leaned forward. Its ice skull shimmered faintly… and then, it bowed.
The others followed.
The bone spirits turned—and silently parted, forming a path up the frost-ridden slope.
Kai let out a shaky laugh. "Okay… that was terrifying." Lucien kissed his temple. "Guess they liked us." Celira raised an eyebrow. "No… they recognized you."
The temple revealed itself as a frozen ruin perched at the edge of a glacial cliff. Its walls were carved from blue-veined stone, its domed roof half-collapsed, but the center of it—where the Mirror was kept—still pulsed with magic. Inside, frost coated every surface. But in the center stood a perfect oval of shimmering light: the Mirror of Threads.
Celira stayed at the edge. "Only Kai can step into the circle. This is his thread to touch." Kai glanced at Lucien and Rhydian once. Lucien nodded. "We're right here." Kai stepped forward. The mirror pulsed. Its surface rippled like water. As he neared, it showed not his face—but a dozen versions of himself, like in the dream.
But one—only one—held steady.
Himself, standing with Lucien in a garden of stars. Peaceful. Whole. A new land blooming behind them. And written across the mirror, glowing faintly, were the words:
"This is the thread that sings. To save it, you must sever what once bound the flame."
Kai stepped back, breath catching.
He didn't know what it meant yet.
But he knew it was the beginning of something much bigger.