The Price of Knowledge
The Vault was still.
Obsidian fragments of the shattered mirror covered the floor like fallen stars, every shard vibrating with a fading echo of Shroud's voice. The crushing tension in the air had relaxed but not disappeared—it had shifted, retreated like a retreating predator into the shadows.
Kael's hand trembled as he placed it back down, the ghost bite of the mirror's magic still searing across his skin. His heart thudded in his ears, and when he jerked his eyes around to Elira, her eyes were gently ablaze—though not with magic, but something else. Memory. Shock. Realization.
She drew a slow breath. "It didn't die."
Kael shook his head solemnly. "No. It broke. There's a difference."
