Heat seared April's skin, air roaring past her ears. Then—impact. She slammed into the hard earth, rolling through dirt and ash until the breath was ripped from her lungs.
Her ears rang. Smoke stung her eyes. All she could hear was the distant clash of wood against metal. When her vision cleared, she saw him—
Eldric.
The old man was a storm in motion, staff flashing against the masked hunters. Sparks burst with every strike, his boots grinding black earth. But she saw it—the way his shoulders sagged, the way his breath came too fast.
And the hunters… they weren't aiming to kill him. They were pushing past, eyes fixed on her.
They want me alive.
"APRIL!" Eldric's voice cut through the ringing. "RUN!"
She scrambled to her feet, clutching the satchel tight. The Mirror burned in her pocket—alive, pulsing like a second heartbeat.
The forest swallowed her within moments. Branches lashed her cheeks, roots clawed at her boots, but she didn't dare slow. Behind her, footsteps pounded—heavier, faster than any human should run.
A horn wailed through the night. The ground trembled.
She risked a glance back.
The hunters were gaining.
She darted around a fallen log—and froze.
A third figure stood in the path ahead.
Taller. Still. Wrapped in silver-and-black armor that shimmered faintly in the moonlight. The mask he wore bore a single, jagged crack through the painted symbol of a crescent moon.
When he spoke, his voice was smooth—almost gentle.
"You've grown, little flame. Your mother would be… surprised."
April's chest tightened. "You knew her?"
The man tilted his head. "Better than you ever will—if you keep running."
She stepped back, fingers twitching toward the Mirror.
The other hunters emerged behind her, forming a triangle around her. Their armor runes glowed with predatory light.
The air thickened. Heat crawled up her spine.
She remembered the dream—the woman with flame-colored hair pressing a glowing hand to her chest. You are the flame. You are the storm.
Fire roared through her veins.
April screamed, and the world exploded.
A ring of golden-orange fire surged outward, snapping through the trees. Bark blackened. Leaves curled to ash mid-air. The hunters staggered back, raising their arms against the blast.
Her knees buckled. She hit the ground, gasping, the fire still licking her fingers.
The silver-masked leader lowered his arm. "So it's true," he murmured. "The Flame lives."
Darkness swallowed her.
But it wasn't the forest—it was somewhere else. A vision.
She stood in a burning throne room. A woman—her mother—clutched a newborn April, crown cracked and falling from her head. Blood ran down her arm.
A deep, cold voice echoed:
"If she lives… the Zodiac will burn."
The image shattered.
April's eyes snapped open.
She was being dragged—Eldric's arm hooked under hers, his face pale and slick with sweat. They burst from the treeline onto a narrow riverbank. Moonlight rippled on black water.
Without a word, Eldric shoved her into a small boat hidden among the reeds.
"Follow the current," he said, voice breaking. "Don't stop."
"What about you—?"
The silver-masked leader stepped from the forest behind him. Eldric didn't turn. He didn't raise his staff.
April's breath caught. "Eldric—?"
"Go," he said again.
The boat lurched as the current caught it. April gripped the sides, the distance between them growing with every heartbeat.
The last thing she saw before the river carried her away was the leader's hand resting on Eldric's shoulder—and Eldric standing perfectly still.
Cold wind sliced her face. She pressed a trembling hand to her pocket.
The Mirror pulsed once. Twice.
A whisper curled through her mind:
If you want to survive, little flame… learn to burn everything in your way.
On the riverbank, hidden in the shadows, two faintly glowing eyes watched her drift into the night.
The Mirror chooses its wielder — but every gift comes with a price.