REBORN UNDER INK AND MOONLIGHT
As they reached the final chamber, Ayla stopped.
At its center stood a single mirror—taller than a man, its frame carved from moonstone. The surface rippled faintly, as if it were breathing.
Her heart pounded. “This is it.”
Kian stepped closer, his hand on his sword. “Careful. The Mirror doesn’t just show. It binds.”
Ayla ignored him. She lifted her hand and touched the glass. The surface rippled beneath her fingertips, cool and alive.
For a heartbeat, she saw only her reflection. Then, slowly, another image formed—her face, but different. Darker eyes. A crescent mark glowing on her brow.
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