Chapter 163: The Mask Beneath the Flame

The sky burned violet.

Serena stood frozen at the edge of the Spire circle, her eyes fixed on Lyra—wounded, staggering, walking across the battlefield like a broken relic from a different life.

Behind her, Elias clenched his fists. “We can’t just watch—”

“Wait,” Serena said.

“Why?”

“Because that’s not the problem.”

Her eyes scanned the camp.

The wards hadn’t triggered. No sounds of breach. No alerts. Everything seemed intact.

But the note…

The spy wasn’t coming from the outside.

They were already here.

Inside the warded tent, Mira moved toward the potion cache when she felt it.

A shift.

A breath that didn’t belong.

She spun around—dagger drawn.

But she was alone.

Or so it seemed.

Then her reflection blinked.

And smiled.

The mimic stepped from the shadows—a perfect copy of Mira, every freckle and line mirrored. But the eyes were wrong. Just a little too dark.

“You're quick,” it whispered. “But not quick enough.”

Mira lunged.

Steel met mimic skin.

But the creature twisted, inhuman, dodging sideways, dagger flashing.

They clashed—quietly. Efficiently.

Until—

A blade flew from the side and buried itself in the mimic’s shoulder.

Kael.

He didn’t wait for thanks.

“Go,” he shouted. “Warn Serena!”

Mira didn’t hesitate.

She ran.

Outside, Serena’s hand burned. Her mark surged with light—brighter, angrier.

The Gate trembled on the ridge, responding to Darian’s slow advance.

Behind her, Elias drew his sword, sensing what she already knew.

“Someone’s inside.”

“Yes,” Serena whispered. “They’ve been here a while.”

Elias turned sharply. “Who?”

She didn’t answer.

Because the Gate did.

Vision surged.

A memory—but not her own.

A mimic crawling through shadow.

Becoming someone familiar.

Taking their voice. Their scent. Their smile.

And sliding into camp two nights ago.

Replacing—

Serena gasped.

The answer slammed into her chest.

Theron.

She turned instantly. “Where’s Theron?”

Kael returned, dragging a bloodied body. “Still fighting the mimic—where’s Mira—”

“No,” Serena cut him off. “Where is Theron?”

Kael blinked. “He left at dawn to scout.”

“No,” she said again, this time louder. “That’s not Theron.”

At that moment, Mira burst from the tent. “The mimic attacked me—it knew the inside of the wards!”

Elias cursed. “Then it’s already—”

A blade sliced through the air.

Straight at Serena.

She ducked—but not fast enough.

Blood splashed her cheek.

Elias shoved her aside, grabbing the attacker.

Theron—but not really.

The mimic.

Its skin rippled, features flickering like candlelight in a storm.

“Too late,” it rasped.

Chaos erupted.

Kael tackled the creature from behind.

Caine blocked a second dagger flying toward Mira.

And Serena—

Serena rose, fury blazing.

“Enough!”

Her voice cracked through the Spire like thunder.

The wards pulsed in response. The ground trembled. Her mark flared gold and silver and violet all at once.

The mimic screamed—and burst into ash.

Silence followed.

Heavy.

Final.

Elias staggered to her side, holding his arm. “We need to move. Darian’s not waiting anymore.”

Serena nodded.

Her gaze turned to Lyra, who now stood just outside the circle—hands up, weapon sheathed.

Kael stepped between them. “Don’t trust her.”

“She risked everything to warn us,” Serena said. “She chose.”

“Then make her prove it.”

Darian watched from the ridge, eyes glowing faint.

“She’ll come now,” he murmured.

The Gate behind him stretched open, wide and hungry.

“You may step through,” he told his soldiers. “But remember—this realm bends to her now. Do not forget whose name the fire answers.”

As they marched, he turned to Lyra’s sword.

It still hummed.

Still resisted his will.

And that was a problem he would deal with soon.

Later that night, the warding circle was remade.

But no one slept.

Mira tended to Elias’s arm. Kael reinforced the traps. Caine stood guard without a word.

And Serena sat with Lyra.

They didn’t speak for a long time.

Finally, Serena whispered, “Why come back?”

Lyra’s voice cracked. “Because I remembered what it felt like to matter. And I couldn’t let that version of myself die.”

Serena studied her. “You may not get redemption. You may not survive this.”

“I don’t need to be saved,” Lyra replied. “I just want to be useful again. To you.”

Serena reached out—touching the mark beneath Lyra’s collar.

It pulsed.

Not with Darian’s command.

With Serena’s.

A new bond.

A new beginning.

Maybe.

Above them, the Gate shimmered.

And the first wave of enemy soldiers stepped through.