The room was bathed in dim light. Alix traced a large silver circle on the floor, lined with ancient symbols pulsing softly with a bluish glow.
Asher and Miria stood in the center, their hands intertwined.
— Are you ready? Asher asked, his voice low and steady.
— Yes, Miria replied, though her heart was pounding wildly.
Alix placed a crystal between them and began to chant in a slow, solemn tone:
> "Tempus, Memoria, Revelare.
Porta mentis aperiatur.
Per animam, per sanguinem, per vinculum,
Revertimur ad originem."
A sudden gust of wind swept through the room, lifting their hair as if they stood in the heart of an invisible storm.
The circle flared with a blinding light.
Miria felt her head spin, her grip tightening around Asher's hand—
Then nothing.
Silence.
Nothingness.
When they opened their eyes again, they were somewhere else.
Their breath misted in the air of a strangely gentle room.
The walls were painted pale pink, decorated with plush toys and hanging star mobiles.
Then came the sound of crying.
Miria turned slowly—and froze when she saw the crib.
A small bundle moved inside, wrapped in a blanket.
She stepped closer, her heart racing.
— That's… me, she whispered. That's me… as a baby.
The door opened.
A young woman entered, her blonde hair braided, her eyes full of warmth.
Miria stood still, trembling.
— Mom…
The woman lifted the baby into her arms, humming a lullaby.
Then a man's voice came from the hallway:
— Is my little princess awake?
A man stepped in — short brown hair, bright blue eyes, a kind smile.
— Darell, murmured Asher. Your father.
Tears welled in Miria's eyes.
She couldn't look away from the scene — her parents, their joy, their love.
Asher gently placed a hand on her shoulder.
— Miria… we can't stay. These are only memories.
She nodded, her throat tight.
— Just one more minute… please.
She watched as her father kissed her mother and baby-self goodnight—then closed her eyes.
When she opened them again, everything had changed.