She Chose the Wrong Hero

That night, Elira couldn't sleep.

The wind howled outside the fortress, shaking the windows. Snow tapped against the glass like soft fingers. But it wasn't the cold that kept her awake.

It was the memory of the door.

And what Kael had said: "It knows your name."

She sat by the fire in her room, staring at the flames. Her thoughts wouldn't stop spinning.

Why her?

Why always her?

She had already lived through the end once. She had already lost everything.

And now something dark and ancient had marked her again.

A soft knock came at the door.

Elira stood quickly. Her magic was already gathering in her palm before she even touched the handle.

But when she opened the door, it was Aeren.

He stepped inside quietly and closed the door behind him.

"You're not sleeping either?" she asked.

He shook his head. "Didn't even try."

He looked tired, but alert. His coat was still dusted with snow. His hair was damp from the cold.

Elira sat back down near the fire. "Do you believe Kael?"

Aeren stayed standing. "I believe something is under that door. Something dangerous."

"But not Kael's vision of the future?"

He paused. "No. I think he saw something real. But twisted. Like a mirror with cracks."

She nodded. "I think the same."

Finally, Aeren sat beside her.

There was a silence between them—but not an empty one. It was quiet in a way that felt safe.

After a moment, he asked, "What did you see in the fire?"

Elira didn't answer right away.

"I saw a child. A little girl. She looked like me. She was crying, but her eyes were… empty. Like she'd stopped hoping anyone would come."

Aeren didn't speak. He just listened.

"She was standing in the ruins of a house," Elira continued. "There was a man's body lying nearby. I couldn't see his face, but I knew who it was."

Aeren's voice was soft. "Your father."

She nodded.

"It was the day I first used magic," she said. "I healed my brother's wound. But I couldn't save my father."

Her hands clenched in her lap.

"That was when the village turned on me. When they called me cursed. I never forgot that day. And the door… it showed it to me. As if it had been watching all along."

Aeren's hand reached out, gentle, steady.

He didn't say "It's not your fault." She had heard those words before. They never helped.

Instead, he said, "I'm sorry you had to see it again."

That meant more.

She looked at him. "What if it knows all my memories? All my regrets?"

"Then we fight it with what it doesn't understand."

"What's that?"

He smiled faintly. "Love. Loyalty. Second chances."

Elira felt something warm grow in her chest.

It didn't chase away the fear. But it gave her something to hold onto.

She leaned her head on his shoulder.

"I don't want to face this alone."

"You won't," Aeren said.

They sat like that for a long time.

Until the fire burned low. Until the wind outside began to quiet. Until the night felt just a little less dark.