Rael perched beside the narrow bed, motionless. The quiet around him felt unnatural—wrong. He was someone built for motion: for running, fighting, protecting. But now, there was nothing to protect against. No blades to deflect. No shadowed threat to chase.
Only Mochi.Still. Pale. Unconscious.
He clenched and unclenched his fists in his lap. Again. And again. The movement had become instinctual, a rhythm to anchor him against the silent storm churning inside.
The purple smoke had long dispersed. The healer had done all she could. No poison. No visible wound. Just… a magical blast that had left Mochi limp and, according to the healer, "shaken to the soul."
Rael didn't understand what that meant. Not really. But he had seen it—right before she collapsed. Something in her eyes. Not fear. Not pain. Something deeper. Like she'd looked past the assassin… into something no one should have to face.
And she'd still stepped in front of him.
He reached for her hand. It felt too small in his. How strange—she always seemed larger than life, a whirlwind in human form, fierce and bright and unignorable. Now she looked… small. Breakable.
He hated it.
From beneath his cloak, Rael pulled out the object he'd clung to since the fight.
A shard.A fragment of Mira's enchanted mirror.
It had cut him when he caught her. He'd held onto it anyway. Couldn't let it go. Even now, hours later, the shard glowed faintly—like a memory that refused to fade.
He turned it in his fingers. Slowly. Carefully.
And then the light shifted, and he saw it.
A cat.
Standing in fire.
Not imagination. Not a trick of light. A glimpse. Just like the one that had frozen Mochi mid-battle, before she dropped.
His breath hitched. The shard flickered again—then dulled. Only his own reflection stared back at him, wide-eyed. Reeling.
"What are you?" he whispered.
A voice answered from the doorway.
"I was hoping you'd ask that."
Rael twisted toward the sound, hand already moving for his dagger—until he saw her.
Mira.
She didn't speak. She never did. But her presence—quiet, calm, solid—seemed to still the cold in the room.
She stepped forward, gaze sweeping over Mochi with a softness Rael recognized. Then she turned to him and signed slowly, fingers precise:
She's starting to remember.It's happening sooner than we expected.
Rael stared. "You… knew this might happen?"
Mira tilted her head. Then she knelt beside the bed and gently touched Mochi's brow. A soft glow bloomed at her fingertips. When it faded, her expression had shifted—still gentle, but distant. Sharper. Older.
Not just Mira the silent caretaker.
Something else.
Something ancient.
She signed again:
The mirror wasn't made to protect.It was made to awaken.
Rael's grip on the shard tightened. "Awaken what? Who?"
Without answering, Mira drew a cloth-bound book from her satchel. Its cover was faded with time, but the silver stitching was clear: a black cat, curled within a ring of fire.
She laid it down beside the bed.
Rael stared at it.
Mira met his eyes. Her next signs came slower, more deliberate:
This isn't her first life.And you… you're not just a footnote in it.
His breath caught. "What does that mean?"
Mira only smiled—a small, quiet thing. Then she signed one final phrase:
The stories were never just stories.And neither are you.
She turned and walked away, her footsteps silent on the stone floor. The door clicked gently shut behind her.
Rael sat still. The shard pulsed once in his hand.This time, he didn't look away.
He squeezed Mochi's hand tighter and whispered, voice hoarse:
"Come back. I think I finally want to hear the whole story."
Across the room, the cover of the book shimmered faintly.
Waiting.