CHAPTER 20 — THE BRIDGE OF ECHOES
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The moon rose like a silver omen over the ravine, its light breaking through torn clouds and shimmering across the river below. Elias stood on the slope leading down to the old stone bridge, every breath sharp with the metallic taste of the mirror’s aftermath. His body still hummed with leftover magic—raw, unstable, and pulsing like a second heartbeat.
He didn’t know how long he had been falling through that blinding void.
He didn’t know how he had landed here.
But he knew who he was meant to find.
The Bridge of Echoes stretched before him, ancient and cracked, its stones softened by moss and memory. The air around it vibrated with a faint, melodic hum—as if the bridge itself remembered every soul who had crossed it and whispered their secrets back into the night.
And at its center… she stood.
Mira.
Her back was turned at first, her dark hair drifting in the wind. Moonlight touched her like something reverent, outlining her in silver. Elias froze, breath held hostage. It felt impossible that she was truly there and not another reflection—another cruel vision designed to break him.
Then she slowly turned.
Her eyes locked onto his.
And the world stopped.
A tremor ran through her, so subtle he might have imagined it. Her gaze widened—not in fear, not entirely—but in recognition so deep it stole the air from his lungs.
As if she had seen him die.
As if she had seen him live again.
As if both were true.
“Mira…” he breathed.
Her lips parted, but no sound came out. She looked at him as if he were a ghost she had been trying not to believe in.
And maybe he was.
He still wasn’t sure he had escaped the mirror’s curse intact.
They stood suspended in silence—the kind that bridges lifetimes, not moments. The river below murmured like distant prophecy. The wind carried the scent of winter. And the space between them pulsed with something dangerous, electric, and unbearably intimate.
Finally, Mira spoke, her voice fragile as frost.
“You weren’t supposed to be here.”
The words struck deeper than accusation—they carried grief, resignation, and something else he didn’t dare name.
Elias stepped closer. “I had to find you.”
“No.” Her voice broke into a whisper. “You had to stay away.”
The humming in the air sharpened. The stones beneath their feet vibrated, as if reacting to their proximity. Magic stirred around her—soft blue light flickering like breath over her skin.
She didn’t seem aware of it.
“Mira… I saw your memories.” He swallowed. “The mirror showed me everything it shouldn’t have.”
Her shoulders tensed. Her gaze darkened in fear—fear for him.
“That mirror was never meant for mortal eyes,” she said softly. “It reveals too much. Takes too much.”
“It showed me your sorrow.” He took another slow step toward her. “Your pain. The man you lost. The healing that failed. The cold you wrapped around your own heart.”
Mira’s breath hitched, and she looked away as if the memories themselves could wound him through her eyes.
“It showed me,” Elias continued gently, “that you’ve been alone far longer than anyone knows.”
Her jaw tightened.
“And it showed me,” he added, voice steadying, “that you don’t have to be.”
Mira shook her head sharply. “You don’t understand. You can’t. There are things bound to me—things older and darker than either of us. If you stay near me, they will—”
The hum in the air cracked like lightning. The moonlight trembled as if some invisible force rippled through it.
Elias reached out but didn’t touch her. “Whatever is haunting you—whatever curse you think you carry—I’m not turning away.”
Her eyes lifted to his. For a heartbeat, something vulnerable flashed through them—longing, fierce and frightened.
“You don’t know what fate has claimed from me,” she whispered. “What it will claim from you.”
“Fate doesn’t scare me,” Elias said. “Losing you does.”
Her breath faltered.
The bridge hummed again, louder this time.
The space between them felt pulled by unseen threads, drawing them together even as fear pushed them apart.
“Why did you come?” Mira asked, voice unsteady. “You should have run the moment you escaped that mirror.”
“Because I didn’t escape,” Elias said quietly. “I was brought here.”
Her brows knit. “By what?”
He hesitated—not out of doubt, but because even speaking the truth felt like stepping off a cliff.
“The woman in the mirror,” he said. “She said you carry a curse waking inside you. She said I am your undoing… and your salvation.”
Mira’s face drained of color.
“No,” she whispered. “No, no—she cannot speak to you. She cannot reach you. Elias, you don’t understand—if she’s taken interest in you, then—”
A violent shudder ran through the stones. A c***k split across the bridge like a scar being carved into the world.
Elias steadied himself. “Mira, talk to me.”
“I can’t,” she insisted, tears shimmering. “If I tell you the truth, you will run. Or you’ll be destroyed. And I don’t know which fate is worse.”
He stepped closer until only inches separated them.
“Mira.” His voice was a vow. “Let me choose.”
Her breath stilled.
The magic around her dimmed to a trembling glow.
Slowly, she reached for his hand—but before her fingers touched his, the river roared as if awakened from slumber. The moon flickered. A shadow surged up from beneath the bridge, spiraling into monstrous form.
Mira jerked back.
Elias spun toward the rising darkness.
The shadow—liquid, shapeless, hungry—formed eyes of molten amber.
The same eyes he had seen in the mirror.
A voice rang out, layered and ancient:
“Time collects its debt tonight.”
Mira grabbed Elias’s arm. “Run. Now!”
But the bridge beneath them split open.
The shadow lunged—
And Elias fell.
CLIFFHANGER END
Elias is plunged into a magical abyss, and Mira’s darkest fear has awakened.
Who—or what—has come to claim fate’s debt?
- Writer
