Chapter Eight
The Mirror Within
The next morning, Amelia woke up on a velvet couch in the lower chamber of the library, wrapped in a strange warmth that didn't come from any blanket. The pendant still glowed faintly against her chest, pulsing like a second heartbeat.
Marah stood nearby, circling the Echo Well. She looked tired—but focused.
"How long was I asleep?" Amelia asked, sitting up.
"Only a few hours," Marah said. "The Watcher's presence faded, but it left behind a ripple. The water feels... different now. Thicker."
Amelia blinked. "Thicker?"
"More aware. More awake."
Amelia touched the crystal. "So what now?"
"Now," Marah said, turning toward her, "we teach you how to survive it."
⸻
Marah's training didn't begin with spells or wands.
It began with a mirror.
She set it in front of Amelia, smooth and oval, and surrounded it with small blue candles. The flames didn't flicker—even though there was no glass in the window above them.
"You need to look," Marah said.
"I've seen myself before."
"Not like this."
Amelia stared into the mirror. Her reflection stared back—same black hair, same soft mouth, same half-defiant look in her eyes.
But something was different.
Her reflection blinked—a second too late.
"What the—?"
"That's not a trick," Marah said. "That's your echo-self. The part of you that belongs to the lake."
"My... what?"
"You carry two versions of yourself now," Marah explained. "The you that walks this world... and the you that can cross into water, memory, magic. Most Seers spend years learning to merge them."
"And how long do I have?"
Marah's expression was grim. "Weeks. If we're lucky."
⸻
They trained all day.
Amelia learned to hold water in mid-air, to draw out echoes from ripples, to hear names carried by reflection. It was hard. Frustrating. Sometimes the pendant burned her skin. Sometimes the candles blew out without warning.
But sometimes... it worked.
In one moment of stillness, she touched the water in the well and saw Elvira—clearer this time—standing in a place made of stars and seaweed, whispering a name:
"Velkora..."
Amelia jolted back. "What does that mean?"
Marah stiffened. "A sealed name. One the lake itself imprisoned."
Then—a knock at the library's front door.
Loud. Unapologetic.
Marah's eyes narrowed. "Stay here."
She went up alone.
Amelia waited—nervous—but her curiosity gnawed at her. Slowly, she climbed the stairs, silent on bare feet.
She peeked from behind a shelf.
At the door stood a tall girl with short silver hair, dressed in a black coat and rain boots. Her eyes gleamed like cut glass.
"I'm looking for Amelia," the girl said. "The lake sent me."
Amelia froze behind the bookshelf, barely breathing.
The lake sent me.
Those words echoed louder than they should have.
Marah stepped forward, staff clutched tight in one hand. "You'll need to be more specific."
The silver-haired girl tilted her head. "I'm not here to fight. My name's Kaia. I'm... like her." She pointed toward the stairs, like she already knew Amelia was hiding there. "Only I was born on the other side of the gate."
Amelia's blood ran cold.
Marah didn't flinch. "There is no other side anymore. The gate was sealed."
Kaia raised her hand—and on her palm was a glowing mark, shaped like a spiral of waves. It pulsed once, the same eerie blue as Amelia's pendant.
"Sealed," Kaia agreed. "But not locked. Something's been scratching at it from inside for a long time. And now that she's awake—" she nodded again toward Amelia—"it's starting to break."
The silence that followed was heavy.
Marah's grip didn't loosen. "Why are you here?"
"I've seen what happens when an untrained Seer goes too deep. I'm here to help her stay above the waterline."
Amelia finally stepped out from behind the shelf. "You're from... the lake?"
Kaia looked at her then, her expression softening. "Half of me. The other half's human. My father was a Guardian. He didn't survive the last breach."
Marah's eyes narrowed, but Amelia took a step forward. "Why me? Why now?"
Kaia studied her a long moment. "Because your mother did something dangerous. She made the lake love her. And now it wants her back. You're the only thing she left behind strong enough to keep the balance."
Amelia's breath caught.
"She's alive?" she asked, even though she already knew the answer.
Kaia nodded. "Barely. And not for long. If we don't close the cracks soon, she won't be the only one swallowed."
Marah still looked guarded, but she stepped aside. "If you hurt her..."
"I won't," Kaia said simply. "She's the only one who can survive what's coming."
⸻
That night, Amelia sat in front of the mirror again—but this time, Kaia sat beside her.
"You have to stop fighting the other version of you," Kaia said gently. "She's not your shadow. She's your anchor."
Amelia closed her eyes, trying to breathe through the storm inside her.
And slowly... something shifted.
She saw herself—her echo-self—kneel beside her. They didn't merge yet. But they touched hands.
And when their palms met, the candles around her flared bright white.
Kaia's voice whispered through the light:
"The lake remembers.
Now it wants you to remember it, too."