The morning light had never felt so sharp.
It cut through the blinds in thin, trembling lines, painting her wooden floor in stripes of gold and shadow. Dust motes floated in the air, drifting as slowly as the breath in her chest. Everything was quiet—too quiet for someone whose world had shattered only moments ago.
Lina stared at the cracked glass before her.
The mirror, once ordinary and dull with years of smudges and fingerprints, now glowed faintly like a portal that hadn't yet decided whether to stay open or seal itself forever. The crescent-shaped crack pulsed with a soft silver light, illuminating her reflection—
No.
Not her reflection.
Amara.
The woman who looked like her but not.
The woman who wore moonlight like a gown and fate like a crown.
The woman whose eyes carried centuries.
Lina's breath fogged in the cold morning air as she stepped closer, drawn despite the terror thrumming in her veins. Her socks slid soundlessly over the floorboards, each step echoing too loudly in the cramped apartment.
"Wh-who are you?" she whispered.
Amara's lips curved in a sad, knowing way, as if she had waited lifetimes to hear that question again.
"You know who I am,"
her reflection murmured, voice soft as falling ash.
But Lina could only shake her head. "I don't understand. I don't—I'm just a girl who works part-time and paints on weekends. I'm not—this."
Her trembling hand reached out instinctively.
The moment her fingertip brushed the glass—
The surface rippled like water.
A shock ran up her arm, cold and hot at the same time, forcing her breath to catch. Her knees weakened. Visions—raw, fragmented, furious—flashed behind her eyes with such speed she couldn't breathe.
A silver throne.
A sky torn open.
Fire raining from a broken moon.
A battlefield littered with bodies—knights with silver hair, warriors with glowing sigils carved into their skin.
And in the middle of that chaos…
A man kneeling in blood.
A crown shattered at his feet.
His hand reaching for hers.
For Amara's.
For Lina's.
The visions tore free like a scream.
She stumbled back, colliding with the corner of her desk. Her sketchbook slid off and landed open—right on the page where the golden-eyed man stared back at her, drawn in lines that felt too familiar now.
The words she had seen last night—
When you dream of fire and rain, remember my name.
—were gone.
In their place, the drawing looked even more alive, his gaze sharper, more intent. It was as if he were watching her. As if he were waiting.
A chill crawled down Lina's spine.
She whipped her gaze back to the mirror.
Amara had stepped closer on the other side, her face inches from the glass. Shadows swirled behind her—ruins, marble arches, a storm of silver petals floating in an eternal wind.
"You must wake up,"
Amara whispered, her palm pressed flat against the inside of the mirror.
Lina's pulse hammered. "Wake up from what?"
"From the life that hides the one you lost."
Before Lina could speak, a louder crack shattered the moment.
Her apartment door slammed open.
She gasped and spun around.
A man stood in the doorway, framed by morning sunlight. Tall, broad-shouldered, commanding. His coat was black with faint silver embroidery along the seams—patterns that shimmered like runes.
His hair, silvery-white, fell to his jaw.
His eyes—those impossible golden eyes—glowed with a fire that didn't belong in this world.
He wasn't mist or dream or shadow anymore.
He was here.
"Kael…" Lina whispered, both recognizing him and not.
His jaw clenched at the sound of his name leaving her lips. He shut the door behind him, the lock clicking with a soft finality.
"Lina," he breathed, stepping into the room. "You opened the mirror. You weren't supposed to."
His voice was deeper in person, more grounded, more real than the whisper in the mist. But the fear in it—the raw, unguarded fear—startled her more than anything else.
She backed up until the edge of the dresser dug into her spine. "H-how are you here? You're not—this isn't—"
"I had to find you," Kael said quietly, moving closer. "Amara's call was too strong. You felt it, didn't you?"
His gaze flickered toward the mirror.
Amara's reflection pulsed with light.
For a split second, both versions of Lina—past and present—shared the same air, separated by only a thin layer of glass.
Kael stiffened. "Close it, Amara. She's not ready."
Amara's expression hardened.
A queen's expression.
"You hid her long enough, Kael,"
her voice resonated through the room.
"The cycle breaks only when she remembers."
Lina's head spun. "Cycle? What cycle?!"
Kael's golden eyes snapped back to hers, filled with a protectiveness that made her breath tighten. He reached toward her—carefully, as if she might break.
"You died," he said softly. "Every life you came back in… you died again before remembering me."
Lina froze.
Amara's reflection lowered her gaze, guilt flickering through it.
Kael's voice thickened with something close to anguish.
"I couldn't keep watching you die. So I sealed your memories in this life. Hid the bond. Hid me."
Lina pressed a hand to her mouth. "You did what?"
"I made you forget," Kael said, the words sounding like they hurt him. "Because loving me bound you to a war that killed you every time."
Lina stared at him, chest tight. "You took away my memories. My life. My identity."
He closed his eyes as if her words physically struck him.
"Yes."
"Why—why would you—"
"Because I'd rather have you living without me," he whispered, opening his eyes again, "than dying with me."
Silence stretched between them—tense, fragile, heartbreakingly intimate.
Then Kael slowly reached into his coat.
When his hand emerged, it held a ring.
Silver.
Engraved with ancient runes.
Glowing like it remembered her touch.
The air around it shimmered with warmth.
Lina felt a jolt through her chest—deep, sharp, familiar.
"We stood beneath the twin moons," Kael murmured, stepping closer. "You wore a crown of starlight. I wore the crest of the last royal line. And when the new moon rose, you placed this ring on my hand."
He turned it slowly between his fingers. Light danced from its surface.
"You said the vow first."
His voice softened.
"Married by fate… bound by blood… found in every life."
Amara's reflection pressed her forehead against the glass. The mirror flickered like a heartbeat.
"Stop," Lina whispered, tears forming. "I don't remember any of this."
"But your soul does," Kael said.
And just like that, her knees buckled.
Kael moved instantly—catching her before she hit the floor. His arms were warm, steady, terrifyingly familiar. Her body reacted before her mind did—her fingers curled into the fabric of his coat, gripping as if she had done it a thousand times before.
His breath hitched.
"Amara…" he murmured, sounding broken. "You always reach for me first."
"I'm—Lina." She forced the words out. "I'm not her."
But he shook his head, his forehead brushing hers. "You are both. Two halves of the same soul, split by fate and time."
Her heart pounded in her ears.
She wanted to pull away.
She wanted to stay in his arms forever.
She wanted answers.
She wanted to scream.
Kael gently helped her stand again.
Then—
The mirror behind them cracked wider.
A gust of silver wind burst through it, swirling around the room like a ghost storm. Papers flew. Her curtains whipped wildly. The floor vibrated beneath their feet.
Amara's reflection became clear—too clear.
Her hand extended through the crack, reaching into Lina's world.
Not metaphorically.
Physically.
Her fingers glimmered just beyond the glass.
"Time is collapsing," Amara warned. "Your worlds are colliding sooner than they should. The choice must be made."
"What choice?" Lina cried, stepping back.
Kael turned to her with a look so intense she felt it in her bones.
"The choice to live as Lina…
or to return as Amara."
The mirror erupted with a second ripple of power.
The room dimmed.
The reflection of her apartment walls warped into moonlit ruins. Stars bled through the cracks. The scent of unfamiliar flowers filled the air—sweet, ancient, heartbreaking.
Amara's eyes glowed with a soft, pleading light.
"Remember us,"
she whispered.
Kael held out the ring.
Its glow brightened—silver flames circling the band.
His voice was low, raw, trembling.
"Your memories are coming back. Your power is waking. If you take this ring… the bond returns. The vows awaken. Everything you lost—good and terrible—comes back."
Lina shook her head violently. "I don't—I can't—"
"If you refuse," Kael continued, swallowing hard, "you stay in this life. Safe. Untouched. Free of this curse."
"But I lose you," Lina whispered.
Kael's expression shattered for a moment. "You live."
The ring pulsed again.
The mirror pulsed.
Her heart pulsed.
And Lina felt something ancient inside her—something vast, warm, and aching—rise like a tide.
She saw flashes again—
Kael laughing as he braided silver flowers into her hair.
Amara kissing his knuckles before a battle.
His arms wrapped around her under a collapsing sky.
Their wedding under the new moon, vows whispered through tears.
Their final moment—
Amara dying in his arms, blood staining the ring he now held.
Lina pressed a hand over her racing heart.
The worlds trembled.
Kael knelt again, offering the ring.
Amara reached from the mirror with a queen's longing.
Fate waited.
And Lina—
She stood between two lives.
Two identities.
Two worlds.
Two versions of herself.
The choice would define everything.
Her breath shook.
Her voice broke.
"What… what am I supposed to do?"
Kael's golden eyes softened with centuries of love.
"Choose."
The mirror cracked open like a door.
And somewhere, fate whispered her old name—
"Amara…"
---
❓️❓️❓️❓️
If the man in the mist was truly Kael… then what part of Lina's soul answered when he called her Amara—
the girl she once was, or the woman fate has turned her into?
---