Chapter 53: The Flame of Rebirth
The Mirrorlands faded behind them like a dream dissolving at dawn.
For the first time in what felt like days — or years — the group stood beneath a true sky. The air was crisp, the sun warm against their faces. Yet none of them spoke. The silence hung heavy, burdened by the things they had seen in the glass.
Eryndor’s reflection’s final words echoed endlessly in his mind.
The Voice was never given. It was implanted.
He clenched his fists as they walked along a narrow ridge overlooking a canyon of ash and fire. The light of the setting sun glowed red across the horizon, reflecting in his eyes like a promise and a threat.
Zephyr was the first to break the silence. “So,” he muttered, kicking a loose stone into the ravine. “We’re just going to pretend we
