The chamber opens without warning — one last step, and the staircase simply ends.
Before us stretches a vast hall, domed and endless, its ceiling lost in shifting gold mist. The air hums like a living thing. The floor mirrors the sky above, so it feels like we're walking between two worlds — one above, one below.
But what catches me are the figures.
At first, I think they're statues. Dozens of them, circling the chamber — women carved in luminous stone, each one bearing the same mark over her heart. The same as mine.
But then one moves.
A flicker of breath, a shift of the eyes. Her gaze finds me through the haze.
Kael's hand tightens around mine. "Nyra," he whispers.
I can't speak. The light ripples across the hall, and the others begin to move too — slow, deliberate, as if waking from centuries of stillness.
Their voices rise in unison.
We remember.
The sound reverberates through my chest, pulling at the mark until it burns. My knees almost give way.
The nearest echo steps forward. Her hair is the same as mine, but darker, her expression sharpened by fury. "You broke the chain once," she says. "You thought freedom was the same as power."
Another voice, softer, sadder. "You begged to forget. You asked the flame to take your memories so you could live as a mortal again."
The others follow — a chorus of accusation and grief.
You swore an oath. You abandoned it.
You loved where you should have feared.
You chose the heart over the covenant.
Each word strikes like a blade of light. I stagger back, clutching my chest. The mark flares, spilling heat down my spine.
Kael steps forward, but I raise a hand to stop him. "No," I whisper. "They're mine."
The echo nearest me — the furious one — circles like a predator. "Do you even know what you've done, child of ash? The covenant was not broken — it was betrayed."
"I didn't betray it," I manage, voice trembling. "I was used."
Her laugh is sharp, echoing through the vastness. "All of us were used. You think the mark chose you for your strength? It chose you because you burn easily."
The truth of it stings.
Another echo approaches — her features gentler, her eyes too knowing. "You don't understand yet. The mark remembers all it's ever carried. Every promise. Every death. You're only the latest flame in a line that never truly dies."
The realization hits deep. Every face here was me.
Kael's voice cuts through the hum, low but steady. "Then end it, Nyra. Don't let them define you."
I look around — at the endless mirrors of myself, at the women who lived and fell before me. Each one carries a piece of the truth, a shard of a story I can't yet see whole.
"I'm not you," I say. My voice shakes, but I force the words out. "I'm not your mistake. I'm what comes after."
The echo smiles — not kind, but approving. "Then prove it."
The chamber trembles. The light surges. The echoes dissolve into flame, circling me in a storm of gold. Their voices weave together one last time — not as accusation, but as invocation.
Remember who you were. Become who you must.
The fire crashes into me, searing, cleansing. I scream, but it's not pain — it's release. The weight of centuries burns away.
When the light fades, the chamber is empty. The floor cool beneath my feet.
Kael is at my side, eyes wide, his expression a mix of awe and fear. "Nyra… what did you do?"
I look down at my hands — the faint shimmer of flame still coiled under my skin. For the first time, it doesn't frighten me.
"I remembered," I whisper. "And now the realm remembers me."
The mark pulses once, deep and steady — like a second heartbeat.
And from the silence below, something ancient stirs in answer.