Mirror had not slept.
The palace bells announced dawn.
Then noon.
Then dusk.
Still he had not slept.
Every time his eyes closed, the same vision returned.
Flames.
Screams.
Blood.
Myreiya's blood.
His hands covered in it.
A black crown floating above a ruined kingdom.
The image refused to leave him.
The mark beneath his shirt burned like molten iron.
It pulsed against his skin.
Alive.
Watching.
Waiting.
Mirror stood before the window of his servant's chamber, staring at the distant mountains.
Rain clouds gathered above the horizon.
A storm was coming.
He could feel it.
Not in the air.
In his bones.
As though the world itself was holding its breath.
His fingers tightened against the stone ledge.
The mark suddenly burned.
A sharp pain shot through his chest.
Mirror hissed.
The room darkened.
The shadows stretched unnaturally long.
Then the voice returned.
"You are running."
Mirror closed his eyes.
"No."
"You are afraid."
"I said no."
The voice laughed softly.
Not cruel.
Not angry.
Certain.
The kind of certainty that belonged to something ancient.
Something that had watched empires rise and fall.
"You saw the future."
Mirror's jaw tightened.
"It was a vision."
"It was a memory."
His blood turned cold.
"No."
"Yes."
The mark pulsed.
Pain exploded through his chest.
Mirror dropped to one knee.
Sweat covered his forehead.
The room vanished.
He stood in a sea of fire.
The royal capital burned around him.
The sky was black.
Ash fell like snow.
Thousands screamed.
Thousands died.
And standing before him—
Was Myreiya.
Not the queen he knew.
Not the cruel ruler feared by nobles and servants alike.
This version of Myreiya looked tired.
Broken.
Blood stained her silver dress.
A crown rested upon her head.
A crown made of shadows.
Her eyes met his.
Not with hatred.
Not with fear.
With sadness.
"Mirror."
The way she said his name shattered something inside him.
As though she had loved him once.
As though he had destroyed her.
His hands trembled.
Then he looked down.
A sword pierced her chest.
His sword.
The blade he held.
His breath stopped.
"No."
Blood dripped from the steel.
"No..."
Myreiya smiled.
A weak smile.
Heartbreaking.
Then she whispered:
"You finally chose."
The vision shattered.
Mirror gasped.
The servant's chamber returned.
He found himself on the floor.
Breathing hard.
Sweat soaked his clothes.
His hands shook uncontrollably.
The voice whispered one final sentence.
"Every future ends with her death."
Silence followed.
Mirror remained frozen.
Because deep inside himself—
A tiny part of him feared the voice might be right.
Elsewhere in the palace.
Myreiya stood before a massive mirror.
Servants adjusted her royal robes.
Gold.
Black.
Silver embroidery.
The colors of the empire.
The colors she hated.
The servants worked in silence.
Nobody dared speak.
Nobody dared make a mistake.
Fear ruled better than loyalty.
At least that was what her father had taught her.
A ruler who inspired love could be betrayed.
A ruler who inspired fear survived.
The thought left a bitter taste in her mouth.
She dismissed the servants.
The room emptied.
Silence returned.
Myreiya stared at her reflection.
Strong.
Cold.
Untouchable.
That was what everyone saw.
Nobody saw the girl underneath.
The girl who remembered every insult.
Every betrayal.
Every wound.
Her gaze drifted toward the window.
Toward the distant servant quarters.
Toward one particular servant.
Mirror.
Something was wrong with him.
She could feel it.
Yesterday, during their conversation, she had seen fear in his eyes.
Real fear.
Mirror never feared anything.
Not punishment.
Not humiliation.
Not pain.
Nothing.
Yet yesterday—
Something had shaken him.
And for reasons she refused to examine—
The thought bothered her.
A knock interrupted her thoughts.
A royal guard entered.
"My Queen."
"What is it?"
"The council awaits."
Of course they did.
The vultures never rested.
The royal council chamber felt colder than usual.
Twelve nobles sat around a circular table.
Each wore a mask of loyalty.
Each hid ambitions sharp enough to cut kingdoms apart.
Myreiya knew exactly what they were.
Predators.
Just like her.
The meeting began.
Reports.
Taxes.
Border disputes.
Trade routes.
Nothing unusual.
Until Lord Veyron spoke.
"Your Majesty."
Myreiya looked toward him.
"What?"
The elderly noble smiled.
Too calmly.
Too confidently.
"We have received disturbing reports from the northern provinces."
The room fell silent.
"What reports?"
"Ancient ruins have begun appearing."
Myreiya's expression remained unchanged.
Inside, however, alarm bells rang.
Ruins?
"Explain."
"The structures are impossible to identify."
Lord Veyron's smile faded.
"According to witnesses... they appear overnight."
Silence.
Nobody moved.
Nobody breathed.
Even the nobles looked unsettled.
Myreiya felt ice crawl through her veins.
Because she knew something they didn't.
The throne room.
The whisper.
The bleeding crown.
The symbol.
Something was changing.
Something old was waking.
And she had no idea why.
That night.
Myreiya broke royal law.
Alone.
Without guards.
Without servants.
She descended into the forbidden archives.
The deepest level of the palace.
A place abandoned centuries ago.
Dust covered every surface.
Ancient books lined endless shelves.
Knowledge forgotten by the world.
Knowledge hidden for a reason.
A single lantern illuminated the darkness.
Its light flickered.
The shadows seemed alive.
Watching.
Waiting.
Myreiya ignored the feeling.
She searched for hours.
Book after book.
Record after record.
Nothing.
Then she found it.
An old journal.
The cover had no title.
No author.
Only a symbol.
A broken crown.
Her heart stopped.
Slowly she opened the book.
The pages were fragile.
Ancient.
The handwriting barely readable.
But one sentence remained clear.
When the Crownless King awakens, the Queen of Ashes shall follow.
Myreiya stared.
The words seemed to burn into her mind.
Crownless King.
Again.
Who was he?
Why had every record been erased?
Why did the symbol appear in both the throne room and Mirror's vision?
Questions multiplied.
Answers remained absent.
Then something happened.
The lantern went out.
Darkness swallowed the archive.
Myreiya froze.
Someone else was there.
A voice emerged from the shadows.
Old.
Weak.
Terrifying.
"You should not have found that book."
Myreiya slowly reached for the dagger hidden beneath her robe.
"Show yourself."
A figure stepped forward.
An old man.
Blind.
Wrapped in black robes.
His face looked ancient beyond measure.
As though centuries had passed through him.
The old man's sightless eyes turned toward her.
And somehow—
He seemed able to see perfectly.
"The bloodline survives."
Myreiya's heart pounded.
"Who are you?"
The old man smiled sadly.
"A man who remembers."
Silence filled the archive.
Then he spoke words that would change everything.
"I know why the throne is calling your name."
The lantern reignited.
The old man was gone.
Vanished.
As though he had never existed.
Only one thing remained.
A single piece of parchment.
Waiting on the floor.
Waiting for her.
And written upon it were four words.
Find the First Prison.
Myreiya stared at the message.
Outside the palace walls—
Far beyond the kingdom—
Something ancient opened its eyes.
And for the first time in a thousand years...
It smiled.
End of Part 1