"Elaris..." she breathed, voice hoarse. "Where are we?"
I turned to her slowly, my heart still pounding from what I'd just witnessed. Her gaze darted around the bloodstained stone chamber, the twisted runes still faintly glowing on the walls. And as she took it all in—the altar, the shadows, the scent of old blood and pain thick in the air—her eyes widened.
She looked like she couldn't breathe.
Her lips parted, but no words came out. Just a sharp inhale. Her hands trembled as they gripped the fabric of her robe, like she was trying to hold herself together with the seams of her clothes.
Her entire body went still, except for the rapid rise and fall of her chest.
Her expression—gods, I don't know how to explain it. It was like someone had ripped her open and she didn't know whether to scream or run or just fall apart right there. Her eyes shimmered—not with tears, but with something hollow. Like she'd been holding her fear in for so long, she didn't know what to do with it now that it was here, staring back at her.
I stepped toward her carefully. "Althea…"
She flinched.
"We're still inside the shrine," I said quietly. "But this? This is your nightmare."
Her knees buckled, and she sat down hard on the cold floor, arms wrapping around herself. "I thought I was done with this," she whispered. "I thought it was over."
I knelt beside her. "You have to tell me everything," I said, my voice gentler than I expected. "What happened in the temple. What they did. I need to know the truth."
Her eyes flicked up to meet mine—wide, desperate, tired. "Even if it's ugly?"
"Especially if it's ugly."
She swallowed hard. "They never let us sleep."
My brows knit in confusion. "What?"
"They said dreams were impure. That sleep brought weakness. They made us stay awake for days until the hallucinations started. Until we couldn't tell what was real anymore. And then they'd begin the rites. The pain felt more 'divine' when you were already broken."
I clenched my fists.
"They tied us down. Lit incense that made your skin feel like it was peeling. Then they'd whisper prayers while carving runes into our backs. 'To make the pain sacred,' they said."
I stepped toward her, but before I could speak, she grabbed my hand—tight, desperate—and whispered, "Elaris… how do we break this nightmare?"
I hesitated. My throat tightened, because I knew how hard this would be. I remembered my own nightmare… the darkness, the grief, the rage… the mirror.
I swallowed. "When I was trapped," I said, voice low, "I saw the day my mother died. I relived all of it. The pain, the helplessness. It nearly broke me."
Althea watched me, wide-eyed, hanging onto my every word like it was the only thing keeping her sane.
"They wanted me to lose control," I said. "To become a monster. And I almost did. I wanted to."
She nodded slowly. "I know that feeling."
I looked down at our joined hands. "But then… I heard my voice. Like a part of me that wasn't broken yet. It told me to remember who I was. What we came here for."
"And then?" she whispered.
"I found a mirror," I said. "And in it… I saw my younger self. Crying. Alone. Afraid. That was the key. I had to face her. Accept her. And then—" I took a shaky breath, "I broke the mirror."
Althea blinked. "You shattered your past."
I nodded. "I shattered the control it had over me."
Silence.
Then her grip on my hand tightened. Her voice was steady now—but low, dangerous. "Then that's what I'll do too. Whatever they're hiding… whatever they made me become—I'll find the part of me they broke, and I'll destroy it."
"We'll do it together," I said. "No more running."
Behind us, something shifted. The walls pulsed, reacting to her resolve. A sound echoed through the chamber—chains dragging. A door creaking open.
Althea turned to me.
"Time to find the mirror."