Amara jolted upright, gasping for air as the remnants of the shattered mirrored realm dissolved around her. She was back in the Wastes, the endless stretch of gray sand stretching in every direction. But the shard in her hand was different now—it pulsed with a strange, rhythmic energy, as though alive.
The memory of Jaren’s flickering form lingered, his final words etched into her mind: “The shard is the key, but it’s not enough.” What had he meant? Was he truly reaching out to her, or was it another illusion crafted to break her resolve?
Her surroundings were eerily quiet, a stark contrast to the chaos she had just escaped. But the shard hummed insistently, drawing her attention. Its glow intensified, casting a faint light on the barren ground. Amara felt a tug—not physical, but somethi
