The ruins lay silent under the pale wash of dawn. What once had been the temple's heart was now a graveyard of glass — jagged shards glittering faintly among the dust.
Amara stepped carefully, the crunch beneath her sandals echoing too loudly in the still air. Every sound made her flinch, as though the broken pieces accused her with each step.
The Elders had forbidden her to return here. "The ruins are cursed now. Leave them." But she couldn't stay away. The weight of what she'd done pressed on her chest until she could hardly breathe.
If she had destroyed it, maybe she could find a way to mend it.
She knelt before the shattered frame, fingers brushing over a shard. Cold bit into her skin. In the jagged surface she saw her reflection — splintered, fractured, a dozen versions of herself staring back.
One face seemed clearer than the others. Not hers, not entirely. Its lips curved into a faint smile.
"You always come back."
Amara's breath hitched. Her hand jerked back, but the shard didn't lose the shape. The stranger's eyes — Selene's eyes — looked at her through the broken mirror.
"You—" Amara's throat tightened. "Why are you here?"
Selene tilted her head. "I told you we would meet again. Just not this soon."
Her voice was soft, almost kind — and that kindness made Amara's skin crawl.
"You told me to break it." The words spilled out, sharp and trembling. "You said I'd be free. But now everyone hates me. Nysa—"
Selene leaned closer in the reflection, though the shard never moved. "And do you not feel freer? No bonds to tie you, no destiny weighing your shoulders? The chains are gone."
Amara shook her head, clutching her arms. "You don't understand. I didn't want this. I just wanted—" Her voice cracked. "I wanted to belong."
Selene's smile faltered, almost pitying. "Belonging is just another word for prison, Amara. And you… you were never made for cages."
The words curled around her heart, tempting, poisonous. She wanted to scream at the reflection, to smash it into dust. But something in Selene's eyes held her still — something too familiar.
"You look like me," Amara whispered.
Selene's smile deepened. "Perhaps that is why you cannot turn away. We are bound, Amara — whether you accept it or not."
Amara staggered back, her breath sharp. "No. You're lying."
The shard dimmed, the reflection fading until only her fractured face remained.
The ruins fell silent again.
---
By the time Amara returned to the village, the sun was high, the air heavy with smoke from morning fires. Women drew water, mended nets, sharpened blades. All paused when they saw her.
Their gazes cut colder than knives.
"Why is she still here?" one whispered.
"She should be cast out," another muttered.
"Bad luck follows her."
Amara lowered her head, quickening her pace. Every word pressed like stones against her back.
Her hut was quiet when she entered, but she didn't feel alone. The air seemed to hum faintly, as if the shards clung to her still.
She sat heavily, burying her face in her hands. Her body trembled. Her heart whispered only one truth:
I can't do this.
But then — Nysa's voice echoed in her memory. "If you care for me at all… you had better try."
Amara lifted her head. Tears streaked her cheeks, but her jaw tightened.
Maybe she couldn't mend the mirror. Maybe she couldn't win the village's trust back. But she couldn't give up. Not now. Not with everything collapsing.
She rose, wiping her face. Her steps faltered, but determination pulled her forward.
She would return to the ruins. She would search the shards. She would find out the truth about Selene.
Because if she didn't, the next time they met — she feared it wouldn't be in a reflection.