The path wound deeper.
Branches twisted overhead, forming a canopy that let no sun through. The moss beneath Luke's boots muffled every step, and the air shimmered with pressure—like the forest was holding its breath.
Amara walked beside him, quiet. Too quiet.
Behind them, the other trial candidates followed at a distance. But out here, the others didn't matter. The trees had begun to whisper. Not words. Not quite. Just the suggestion of them—like someone thinking too loudly behind a closed door.
Luke glanced at Amara. "Do you hear that?"
She gave a shallow nod. "They're not just whispers. They're looking."
They?
The path led them into a clearing, marked by two ancient stones pulsing with old runes. Luke didn't slow. Amara matched his stride.
They stepped between them—
—and the world cracked.
Suddenly, they stood in a space with no sky. No ground. Just endless mist beneath their feet, and a spiraling wall of mirrors around them, impossibly tall.
In every reflection: Amara.
But not the Amara he knew.
One showed her in black armor, her silver hair coiled in spell-threaded braids, crimson eyes glowing brighter than fire.
Another showed her standing atop a battlefield, a broken crown at her feet, wings unfurled like blades.
And in every mirror, the same mark burned behind her—a sigil of the Shadowborn.
Luke felt cold all over.
He turned to the real Amara—who stood beside him, frozen, staring at the visions with wide, hollow eyes.
"Amara," he said softly. "Do you see this?"
She didn't answer.
A voice echoed around them—not hers. Not his.
"She has forgotten. But the forest remembers."
"And so will you."
One of the mirrors cracked. Then another.
Amara clutched her head. "This isn't real," she whispered. "It's just a trick."
Luke wasn't so sure. He stepped toward one of the cracked mirrors—but it shattered before he could touch it, sending glass spiraling upward into the fog. The illusion collapsed.
They were back in the forest. The runestones stood behind them. The path ahead was clear.
Amara was kneeling, one hand on the ground, breath sharp and shallow.
Luke reached for her. "What did you see?"
She rose before he could touch her. "Nothing," she said quickly. Too quickly. "It's over."
Luke frowned. "It showed me things… about you. That symbol again."
Her jaw clenched. "The forest wants you to doubt me."
He watched her. "It would have to try very hard then." He tried to press down the thought and continued walking. He didn't know what the mirrors had really shown. Truth? Memory? Manipulation?
All he knew was that Amara had seen something, too.
And she was lying about it.