The silence was thick like a cloth soaked with fear.
She opened her eyes to find herself lying on a bed too familiar... perhaps more than it should be. Light filtered through a window draped with pink curtains, and the walls were adorned with old pictures... her pictures. This was her room. Not Eirelyn's shop, nor the attic she had grown used to recently, but her room from a previous life. The low ceiling, scattered books, even the black dress she wore on her graduation day... still hanging there, like a memory that didn't belong to this time.
She didn't move.
It felt as if her breaths no longer belonged to her. Everything around screamed that she had returned. But her heart... did not believe.
From the kitchen came a tender voice calling:
"Wake up, my dear, breakfast is ready."
That voice... her mother's voice. Tender, familiar, yet harsh in this place where she shouldn't be.
She rose slowly. Stepped toward the door. Her hand reached hesitantly, fingers brushing the silver handle.
But the door... would not open. She pushed once, twice... no response.
Between her trembling breaths, a whisper came. She did not know its source, but it was clear, moist like a cold breeze on her neck, leaning toward her voice... or the echo of someone else:
"Here..."
"You will not return..."
"Eirelyn..."
"You are... Eirelyn."
She shivered.
Then she ran to the mirror hanging beside the bed, clutching at her reality as one fleeing an abyss.
She looked... and flinched.
The face in the glass was not hers. It was Eirelyn's face.
Suddenly, a hand emerged from the glass. Cold, pale, long-fingered... Eirelyn's hand.
It grabbed her wrist fiercely and pulled her toward the gleaming surface.
"No! Stay away from me!" she shouted, recoiling, her feet clawing at the floor, nails clutching at anything... but it was useless.
The mirror swallowed her as the sea swallows a drowning body.
...
When she opened her eyes on the other side, there were no stone walls, no faint light, no shop.
It was her old room. Neat, silent, suspended in a familiar time.
She looked from inside the glass, as if the mirror had become bars between two worlds, and saw her mother.
She wore black. Her face collapsed in tears, wiping them with a faded handkerchief. Next to her was a picture placed on the desk, surrounded by a wreath of white roses... her picture.
That was... the day of her funeral.
The mother collapsed onto the bed, clutching the pillow, whispering brokenly:
"You were so kind... why? Why you?"
She gasped inwardly, wanting to knock on the glass, to scream, to say: "I'm here! I'm not dead!"
But her mouth made no sound.
All she could do... was watch.
...
She suddenly woke up, gasping heavily, breathing as if the air was fleeing her. Her eyes widened, searching the darkness around her. Another nightmare. The same room. The same bed. The same tremor in her heart. Why? Why did she see these things every time?
But this time, it wasn't just a dream.
She felt something wet running down her neck. She reached out and touched it. A warm liquid. Blood.
She froze.
Her fingers trembled as she stared at the red on her palm.
"How?…"
Suddenly, she remembered. The box. The headless doll.
She shuddered.
Someone had been here.
She jumped from the bed, dressed hurriedly, barely buttoning her clothes through the shaking. She descended from the attic, then ran toward the back room, opened it, and slipped quickly into the cellar.
She searched frantically for something... anything for defense.
There.
Tools, magical weapons, defensive potions, a small cracked staff, a dagger inlaid with marks.
But her eyes fell again on that book. She flipped through it.
There must be something to help.
Then she saw it.
The pendant.
It was not mere jewelry. It was Eirelyn's strongest defensive weapon. Her unseen guardian.
She looked at it in astonishment, then whispered:
"I'm alive because of you..."
When she was poisoned, when Sarenya almost killed her, when the imp, the tiger, the spirit at the temple attacked... even the mirror's reflection.
All of them... the pendant protected her.
She grasped it and ran to the mirror room, knocking on the glass with a spoon.
One knock, then another… the reflection appeared. But it was no longer just her shadow. It was clearer, its eyes shining with a cold malice.
It spoke slowly, as if each word was sharpened by a knife:
"Back at this again? What do you want this time?"
She stared without hesitation:
"Who is Eirelyn? I want the truth."
The lips curled into a mocking smile:
"The truth? And do you think you are ready for it?"
She raised an eyebrow defiantly:
"Try me."
It laughed, a short laugh:
"Oh, don't ask for what you cannot bear, stranger."
"Stop playing. You're her reflection, so you know everything about her. Tell me who she is."
"I know what must be known... and what is feared to be said."
"I will break the mirror."
It was silent for a moment. Then its eyes narrowed as it whispered:
"No need for threats. I will tell you a little… just a little."
It leaned closer to the glass surface until its breath almost touched it:
"Eirelyn is descended from white witches. An old lineage... more terrifying than you imagine. Her mother was the strongest among them. Powerful... so much so that the emperor himself feared her, then loved her, then... that damned traitor left her."
She gasped in a whisper:
"Is that all? What a strange past."
The reflection smiled a ghostly smile:
"So you still think the pendant was just for protection? Ah, how pitiful you are."
"Tell me about her mother. Who was she? What exactly happened to her?"
Feigning ignorance, it turned its face aside, leaning on its hand:
"She fell. Like autumn leaves. Do you think I'm a talking archive?"
"You are part of her. You know more than you say."
It smiled without looking at her:
"I know... what burns. And what must not be touched. You are playing with fire, intruder."
"I'm not an intruder."
Raising an eyebrow sarcastically:
"Really? Then what are you?"
She looked at it stubbornly:
"I'm the one who held on to Eirelyn at the last moment. The pendant chose me."
"Hah… or maybe you were the only option left."
Her voice trembled, but she didn't back down:
"Enough. I want to know something else."
"Go ahead."
"Kaelon."
She suddenly lifted her head. A cunning smile spread across her lips.
"Ah... so that's how it is?"
"What?"
"You're in love with him."
"I'm NOT!" she shouted immediately.
"If you're not, why are your cheeks trembling?"
"Just tell me about him."
It laughed, then said:
"Kaelon... that mischievous boy? Eirelyn met him in the market. He was running, scared, stumbling because the black market sellers were chasing him."
"Why?"
"Because he's not like the others. Half human. Half demon. A mix not tolerated in this land."
"Impossible..."
"Ah, but she believed in him. She carried him off the road, convinced the orphanage manager he was a lost child. Since that day… they were inseparable."
Then its expression froze:
"But... what if he knew he wasn't with Eirelyn... but with a stranger inhabiting her body?" It leaned closer until its nose touched the glass: "I don't guarantee what he would do. No one does."
...
The doorbell rang.
She ran upstairs.
Kirena.
"Hi... I came to get the potion."
She looked at her, confused:
"But... I gave you some yesterday."
Kirena froze. Then laughed:
"Maybe I overdid the potion."
"How much did you drink?"
"I don't remember..."
She shook her head, then went down and brought her a calming chamomile potion.
Kirena left, and she followed her with worried eyes.
"That potion... might cause prolonged memory loss."
Sylv suddenly entered the shop carrying the day's goods.
She smiled and paid him.
Before he left, she grabbed his hand:
"Did you see anyone strange near the shop... while I was away?"
He hesitated, then said:
"A hooded man. He asked about you. Said he was from the imperial palace."
Her eyes widened:
"The palace...?"
He looked at her worried:
"Are you okay? Do you know him?"
She nodded, lying:
"Yes... don't worry."
He smiled lightly:
"Well, better rest. You look tired."
"I will... thank you, Sylv."
He left, and she sat down. She held the pendant, which began glowing with a blue light.
She whispered:
"I just... want to understand."
A mysterious voice whispered in her ear:
"You shall."
Darkness.
Images. Sounds. A past displayed.
She was the emperor's daughter from a great white witch. Her mother was promised marriage... then betrayed.
The mother faced the horrors of pregnancy, pursuit, a bloody legacy. The pendant was the inherited power.
A woman named Flinia helped her.
But the mother did not die giving birth. The empress ordered to kill mother and child for fear of her son's throne.
Flinia took the infant from the capital.
They fled to Nimora. There, Eirelyn grew up.
But Lucian, the crown prince, when he learned she was still alive... decided to kill her.
He was the one who stabbed her.
But she held on to the pendant...
And so she awoke... in her body.
He was the one who sent the box. He watches her.
She panicked. Her breaths were short.
She stared at the ceiling in shock.
"Her life... a lie... a huge lie..."
Suddenly Kaelon entered the shop.
"What's wrong? Your face is pale... you're sweating."
She shook her head:
"Nothing."
"No, there is something. Since your return you've been distant. Is it because of the fall? The memories? Eirelyn, look at me."
She avoided his gaze.
He repeated more deeply:
"Eirelyn. Look at me."
He gently grabbed her chin.
She burst into tears.
He embraced her:
"It's okay... I'm here. I didn't mean to upset you. We'll get through this, like always."
She whispered with a broken voice:
"But... I'm not Eirelyn."
He froze.
"What?"
"She's dead. I'm someone else. I entered her body."
"What are you saying? That's madness. You're here, speaking to me!"
"I lied to you... I didn't lose my memories. I'm not her."
He stepped back, shocked:
"No... it can't be..."
She shouted:
"KAELON, WAIT!"
But he left without looking back.
And she... sat crying.
From afar...
Someone was watching.
A spy... sent by her half-brother, Lucian.