Lahat ng Kabanata ng Bound by Voices: Kabanata 11 - Kabanata 20

Arc II – The Curse Rewrites Itself Chapter 2: The Mirror That Listens The morning after the incident, the manor refused to wake. Normally, dawn poured through the windows like honey. Today, every mirror gleamed with a faint blue hue — the curse’s color — and every clock had stopped at the exact same time: 3:13 a.m. Mira noticed first, because she was the only one awake enough to freak out properly. She burst into Adrian’s room, barefoot and holding a clock like evidence. “Okay! Not to alarm you, husband-slash-heartbeat-roommate, but time is broken!” Adrian blinked groggily from his bed. “Mira… it’s six in the morning.” She shoved the clock in his face. “Then explain this!” He glanced at it, sighed, and sat up. “Another curse pulse?” “Unless your magic decided to host a rave at 3 a.m., yes.” > “You really need to stop using that word like it’s a party.” “It’s a party until someone explodes,” she muttered. “Then it’s a learning experience.” --- Downstairs, the staff whispe

Arc II – The Curse Rewrites Itself Chapter 4: Elara’s Song Mira dreamed of music. Not the kind she used to blast through her headphones before this bizarre afterlife — but something older, sweeter. A melody without words. It came from somewhere beyond a veil of blue light, rising and falling like waves on the edge of memory. When she woke, the sound didn’t stop. It came from the mirror. --- “Adrian,” she whispered. He stirred beside the desk where he’d fallen asleep, one hand still clutching his journal. “What—time is it?” “Three thirteen,” she said automatically. “Of course it is.” He blinked blearily. “Why does that—oh. The curse again?” “Yup. It’s singing now.” He frowned. “Singing?” “Yes, singing! Like a ghostly Spotify playlist, except I didn’t hit shuffle.” She gestured toward the mirror — faint light rippled across the glass like water. The melody threaded through the air, delicate and strangely familiar. Adrian rose, walking toward it. “You recognize it?” Mi

Arc II – The Curse Rewrites Itself Chapter 6: The Woman Who Was Two When Mira woke, the world wasn’t hers anymore. The air shimmered. Every sound seemed to echo twice — one echo that belonged to her, and one that didn’t. She blinked, and the reflection in the mirror blinked a heartbeat too late. > “Great,” she muttered. “Now I’m lagging in real life.” The reflection smiled faintly. “That’s because you’re not alone anymore.” Mira froze. “...Elara?” > “You finished the song,” the reflection said. “So now, we finish each other.” “Finish—No. Nope. No poetic possession speeches today, thank you.” But even as she spoke, her own voice trembled — layered with Elara’s undertone. It was like hearing herself harmonize with a ghost. --- Adrian found her in the study, staring blankly at the fire. > “Mira?” he said carefully. She looked up. Her eyes glowed faintly blue. “Sort of.” He swallowed. “Sort of?” > “Depends which of us you’re asking.” > “...Elara?” > “Partially.” > “And

Arc II – The Curse Rewrites Itself Chapter 8 – The Heart’s Rebellion Mira woke to thunder inside her veins. Not sound—pressure. Every heartbeat felt amplified, echoing through the room like distant drums. Her skin shimmered faintly blue in the dark, pulsing to a rhythm that wasn’t entirely her own. > Wake, whispered a voice inside her skull. We dreamed together. Let’s live together. She bolted upright. “No, no, no—you stay quiet, heart-ghost, I’ve had enough of your poetry for one lifetime.” > Then stop beating so loudly. I can hear everything you feel. “Then plug your—whatever you have—ears!” The walls rippled, offended. A portrait fell. Adrian burst in, sword drawn out of old habit more than need. “Mira? The house—” “It’s throwing a tantrum,” she said, breathless. “Apparently my blood pressure offends it.” The floor trembled once, like the manor itself was huffing. --- By midmorning, the phenomenon spread beyond the manor. Outside, clouds twisted into heart-shaped spir

Arc II – The Curse Rewrites Itself Chapter 10 – The Shape of Love For the first time in months, the manor was quiet. No singing chandeliers, no sentient tea sets, no existential wallpaper sighing in heartbreak. Just morning sunlight sliding across the floorboards, and Mira—cross-legged on the rug—trying to meditate while the embodiment of magic sat across from her like an eager pupil. The curse had taken on a human silhouette again, more solid now, its surface a slow swirl of light and shadow. Eyes that were not quite eyes followed every motion of her breath. > “All right,” Mira said, trying to sound like a patient teacher instead of someone mentoring a reality-bending toddler. “Lesson one: emotional regulation.” > I don’t understand the term. > “Obviously. Okay—humans feel things, but we don’t let those things turn the weather purple.” > Purple is pretty. > “It’s catastrophic.” > So is love. Mira sighed. “Oh, wonderful, you’ve discovered poetry again.” From behind her,