(~721 words — part 10)
The smoke hit them first.
Long before they saw the village, a slow, bitter haze drifted across the plains—clinging to Nyari's clothes, coating Elen's throat with soot.
They stopped at the edge of a hill, the wind still, the world quiet.
Below them lay Ashfen.
A village once nestled against a crystal river. Now—a ruin of blackened timbers, scorched earth, and silence.
Elen grabbed Nyari's sleeve.
"Do you think…?"
Nyari's tail flicked behind her.
"Yes," she whispered. "The third star was here."
🏚️ Ashfen
They moved through the village slowly.
No signs of life. No blood. Just… absence. Doors burnt down to splinters. Hearths cold. Fields scorched in unnatural spirals.
Nyari knelt near one such spiral, pressing her palm to the ash.
It hummed faintly.
Divine energy, tainted and collapsed in on itself. Like something had tried to awaken—and been snuffed out.
Elen stared at the spiral.
"Do you think they made it?"
Nyari didn't answer.
Because she didn't know.
🌀 The Trap
They reached the village center—what was once a market square. Now reduced to broken stones and collapsed stalls. The well still stood.
And something was inside.
Nyari's ears twitched. She motioned for Elen to stay behind her.
She approached the well—slowly. Dagger pulsing in her hand.
As she neared, a faint sound echoed up from the depths—
Breathing.
Too slow. Too hollow.
Like something wearing lungs it didn't own.
And then—
"Hello… tiger cub."
A voice.
Wrong. Warped. Familiar.
Nyari's eyes widened.
It was her own voice.
Mimicked. Distorted.
⚔️ The Battle Begins
Shadow erupted from the well.
A figure launched skyward, cloaked in flame-black smoke and shaped exactly like Nyari—ears, tail, glowing eyes, even the dagger.
But this version was twisted.
The Corrupted Reflection.
Elen screamed, but Nyari didn't falter.
She leapt backward mid-spin, summoning two daggers this time—her real one, and a second forged of raw starlight.
"You're not me."
The reflection tilted its head.
"I'm what's left if you fail."
Then it attacked.
🌪️ Dual Speed
They moved in mirrored blurs—clashing across the ruins like streaks of lightning.
Daggers flashed. Echoes burst. Sigils collided.
Nyari dodged, flipped, rolled—her ribbon trails glowing behind her. But the Reflection matched every move.
Strike for strike.
Word for word.
"You hesitate," it hissed.
"You care."
Nyari gritted her teeth and flipped off a broken chimney, slamming a pulse-sigil into the Reflection's chest.
It ate it.
Swallowed the sigil.
Then laughed.
"You can't purify what you deny, little goddess."
🔥 Elen's Choice
The Reflection knocked Nyari into the dirt, pinning her.
Dark claws pressed against her neck.
"You'll break," it whispered.
"You always break."
"NO!"
Elen stood behind them, her own hands glowing faintly now—raw, untrained power swirling around her in white sparks and black smoke.
"I won't let you take her!"
She screamed—and the light surged forward.
Not an attack.
An invitation.
Nyari reached up—grabbed the energy—and merged it into her dagger.
"Together."
She twisted.
The dagger pierced the Reflection's chest.
Light burst.
The shadow screamed—and shattered into ash.
💔 The Aftermath
Nyari stood over the fading embers, chest heaving.
Elen slumped beside her.
Neither of them spoke for a long time.
Then Nyari whispered:
"…That was what the third star became."
Elen nodded slowly.
"And if you hadn't been here…"
"I was almost too late again."
🕊️ The Grave
They found what was left of the third girl behind the well.
A small satchel.
A melted badge.
Charcoal-scrawled letters on the back of a mirror shard:
"It's too much. I tried to fight. I'm sorry."
Nyari placed the shard into the earth.
She didn't cry.
But she pressed her forehead to the ground for a long, quiet moment.
Then rose.
Eyes sharper.
Voice steady.
"We find the next one. Today."
🏙️ Elsewhere…
In a dark chamber beneath a shattered fortress, they watched through the remnants of the Reflection.
Black-robed figures stood in a circle, eyes glowing with corrupted starlight.
"She grows too quickly."
"She will ruin the harvest."
"She was one of us."
The central figure raised their hand.
"We send the Fourth."
"Let the tiger feel what it means to lose hope."
To be continued in Chapter Twelve: "Glass and Flame"
(Nyari follows rumors of a girl who creates fire from mirrors—but this Fourth Star has already joined the enemy. And she doesn't want saving… she wants to test Nyari herself.)