The mirror was silent, as always. A cold, unfeeling prison that had held him for centuries. His reflection stared back at him, but it wasn’t just his own. It was twisted, distorted by time, by the curse that bound him here.

He ran his fingers along the smooth surface, feeling the barrier that separated him from the world beyond. The world he could no longer touch.

Until now.

His fingers curled into a fist against the glass, frustration simmering beneath his skin. He had dreamed of her again.

No—not a dream.

Something else. Something worse.

A memory wearing the mask of a dream.

The vision had been too vivid, too raw to be a mere trick of his mind. He had seen her—her soft, sorrowful eyes, the way her shoulders trembled as silent tears slipped down her cheeks. He had felt something strange then, something he should not feel.

A pull.

It had clutched his chest, tightening like a chain, a feeling too deep, too unsettling. He didn’t know her. He was sure of it. And yet…

His throat burned at the memory. The way his own tear had fallen—at the exact moment hers did. As if his very soul had echoed her sorrow.

But that wasn’t possible.

His heart didn’t beat for anyone.

It hadn’t in centuries.

So why had it felt like it was breaking?

His breath came heavy, fogging against the mirror’s surface before vanishing into nothing. His reflection glared at him, but he barely saw it. His mind was elsewhere, trapped in the remnants of that cursed dream.

What was she to him?

A stranger?

No.

Something deeper.

Something dangerous.

And that was the part that unsettled him the most.

His memories were fragmented, broken by the very magic that imprisoned him. He had spent so long in this cursed place that time itself had become meaningless. Faces blurred, names faded, everything before this mirror felt like a ghost.

But not her.

She was the first thing in centuries that felt real. Too real.

His fingers trembled against the glass. He curled them into a fist, forcing down the confusion, the weakness. He couldn’t afford distractions. Not when the stakes were this high.

He needed to focus.

He needed to escape.

His jaw clenched. She was the key.

He had seen the way the mirror trembled when she was near. The way his prison loosened—just slightly, just enough to give him a sliver of hope.

She was the answer.

She just didn’t know it yet.

A slow smirk curled his lips. Fate had finally moved the pieces in his favor.

She would come to him.

And when she did, he would guide her.

Whisper to her.

Lure her deeper into the reflection, into the world beyond the glass. He would weave his voice into her thoughts, plant the questions that would make her reach for him.

She would hesitate at first. He could already see it—her fear, her doubt. But curiosity would win. It always did.

She would return.

Again and again.

Until she was standing right where he needed her to be.

And then…

She would set him free.

His smirk faded as a thought struck him. Why her?

Why did she have this connection to his prison?

Why did the mere sight of her make his heart ache with something he refused to name?

The curse had stripped him of so much. His power. His freedom. His memories.

But it hadn’t erased everything.

Not her.

Never her.

Which meant…

He had known her before.

And yet, he couldn’t remember.

That single realization sent frustration crawling up his spine.

His past was a locked door, and she was the only key he had ever found.

Was she the one who put him here?

Or had she once been the one who tried to save him?

The questions clawed at him, demanding answers. But he had none. Not yet.

And it didn’t matter.

Not now.

Not when he was so close.

He let out a slow breath, pressing both palms against the mirror. It shuddered beneath his touch, the magic within reacting to his presence. A sharp pulse rippled through the glass, sending a faint hum into the still air.

Yes.

It was working.

The connection between them was real.

He didn’t know why she was drawn to him, didn’t know why his heart ached at the thought of her.

But he knew one thing for certain.

She would come back.

She had to.

And when she did…

He would be waiting.

Tonight, he would take the first step toward freedom.

And she would take the first step toward him.

***

Crystal was gazing at the view in silence. It was break time at college when Venus spotted her and walked over, settling beside her.

"What are you watching?" Venus asked, noticing the serious expression on her face.

Crystal sighed and turned the screen toward her. "You know  that antique shop we passed by during the picnic?"

Venus nodded. "Yeah, the one with all those eerie old things?"

Crystal’s lips pressed into a thin line. "Someone burned it down. Completely."

She played the video, and Venus leaned in to watch. The entire shop had been reduced to ashes—nothing but dust and charred remains. The only thing that hinted at what it once was was a half-burnt signboard, barely legible through the soot and smoke.

"The whole place is gone," Venus murmured, eyes fixated on the ruins. "How did it catch fire?"

Crystal shrugged. "Some say it was an electrical issue, but others..." She hesitated before continuing, "Others believe it was that mirror demon."

Venus raised an eyebrow. "Seriously?"

" sounds ridiculous right " Crystal chuckled, though there was an edge to her voice. "But look at this." She pointed at the screen. "See how fiercely it burned? Like it wasn’t just a fire—it was destruction fueled by someone's rage."

Venus asked . "Was anyone inside?"

Crystal nodded grimly. "The shop owner. He didn’t make it out. Poor man."

Venus kept staring at the video, a strange feeling settling in her chest.

***

Leon paced the dimly lit chamber, his mind a storm of rage and desperation. The flickering candlelight barely reached the corners of the ancient room, casting eerie shadows against the walls lined with arcane symbols. The man before him sat lazily in a high-backed chair, fingers tapping against the armrest, waiting for Leon to speak.

But Leon couldn’t find the words. His chest was tight, his breath uneven.

His brother. That wretched, cursed shadow from the past. He was close to breaking free. Too close.

And if that happened—he would lose her.

Leon clenched his fists. The thought of her slipping through his fingers, of her falling into his brother’s grasp, sent something violent tearing through him. He  laid his claim too deep to let this happen.

“I need him gone,” Leon finally said, his voice low but edged with a sharp, barely contained fury. “For good.”

The man before him—an old sorcerer, one who had once helped Leon before—smirked, his gaze knowing. “You always come back when it’s about him.”

Leon gritted his teeth. “He’s close to getting out.”

The sorcerer leaned forward, interest flickering in his dark eyes. “And why does that bother you so much?”

Leon said nothing. He wouldn’t admit it. Couldn’t.

But the man already knew. He chuckled, shaking his head. “It’s about the girl, isn’t it?”

Leon’s jaw tightened. He exhaled slowly, trying to keep his composure.

“If he returns,” the sorcerer mused, “he’ll take everything that belongs to him. And she—” He tilted his head. “She was always meant to be his, wasn’t she?”

A dangerous silence filled the room.

Leon’s breathing turned harsh. A memory surged—his brother’s voice, his brother’s touch—before he was sealed away. That girl had been part of his past, part of his curse, but Leon didn’t care.

She was his now.

And he wouldn’t let his brother take her.

“I need to banish him,” Leon said through clenched teeth. “Like you did before.”

The sorcerer only laughed. “And what do I get in return?”

“Take his power.” Leon’s voice was steel. “Rake it from him before he even gets it back. Drain him completely.”

The sorcerer studied him for a long moment, then slowly smirked. “Oh, you really are desperate.”

Leon didn’t deny it. He was desperate.

Because he wouldn’t lose her.

Not to him.

Not to fate.

Not to anyone.

The sorcerer studied him for a long moment. Then, he laughed. A deep, amused sound that sent a chill down Leon’s spine.

"You’re a fool, Leon," he murmured. "And yet, I like this side of you."

Leon didn’t respond. His patience was thin, his control slipping.

"Very well," the sorcerer said. "But magic demands sacrifice. You know that."

Leon’s stomach twisted. "What kind of sacrifice?"

The sorcerer’s lips curled. "You already know the answer."

Leon’s breath stilled.

No.

Not her.

The same connection that made her the key to freeing his brother was the same reason she could be used to destroy him. A life for a life. Her soul for his brother’s death.

The perfect trade.

His heartbeat thundered.

"You came here for a reason," the sorcerer said, voice almost gentle. "Decide."

Leon’s chest rose and fell unevenly.

To be continued...