The sky within the Keeper's domain shimmered like fractured glass. Stars flickered above, too many and too close. Aryan stood alone—until she appeared again.
The girl.
She looked like Lirael... but she wasn't. Not in the way her breath fell, not in the way her eyes lingered. Her presence was a whisper of memory shaped by the Keeper's will.
And Aryan knew.
"You wear her face," he said, voice low, laced with quiet fury. "Why?"
The girl tilted her head. "Because your flame still remembers her."
Aryan didn't step back. He didn't falter. But the ache returned—sharp and heavy, curling around the embers inside his chest.
The Keeper's voice echoed from all around.
"What burns deeper than love lost? What endures longer than the fire of longing?"
Aryan closed his eyes. He saw Lirael not as a face—but as a soul. The way she stood beneath moonlight. The way she had whispered his name in his final breath.
The girl stepped closer, reaching for his hand.
He didn't take it.
"I've already held the only hand I ever wanted," Aryan said, eyes fierce. "You are not her. You never were."
The false girl's image flickered.
This was the trial.
Not of strength.
But of devotion.
And he had passed.
The Keeper's laughter rolled like thunder.
"You remember. Even flame cannot lie when it loves true."
The illusion shattered.
Aryan stood alone once more—but not hollow. His flame pulsed with quiet power.
Still hers. Always hers.
---
Author Note – by R.E. Solcrest
This chapter is a reminder: Aryan's heart belongs to one. No matter how the world—or even the stars—test him, he is a true and eternal lover. No second romance. No confusion. Only Lirael Yue.