Episode 29
"No…" Rabaab whispered. "That's not her. It can't be."
The shadow twisted, warping the grandmother's face into something monstrous. "She left me there! Left me in the glass! And now… I'll take you!"
The shards shot out like daggers, hovering around Rabaab.
The Archivist yelled, "Keep chanting! Don't stop!"
But Rabaab couldn't speak. Her throat closed. Her chest burned.
Then she remembered—the locket.
It still hung around her neck.
Glowing faintly.
Desperately, she gripped it, focusing on the warmth. "Nani… if you're in there… help me."
The locket flared to life. A wave of golden light surged out, striking the shadow.
The spirit screamed, withdrawing into the shards.
The Archivist took the moment. He pulled a blade from his coat and pricked Rabaab's finger.
"What are you—!?"
"Blood seals blood," he said, dropping her blood onto the open pages of the book.
The light from the locket merged with the incantation, forming a ring of fire around the shards.
One by one, the pieces dropped—motionless, powerless.
The room fell silent.
But Rabaab collapsed, her energy drained, her mind heavy with unfamiliar memories—memories not her own.
Visions of the mirror. The Order. A young woman—her grandmother—trapping something inside it, tears on her cheeks.
Jawad caught Rabaab before she hit the ground.
"She's connected now," the Archivist said gravely. "The mirror's gone quiet—but it isn't over."
Outside the window, a single raven landed on the sill.
It stared at them.
And blinked with human eyes.
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