THE SECRETS WE BURN

THE FORGOTTEN ROOM

The dragons’ door slammed shut behind them with a deafening clang, and Elara’s heart leaped into her throat. The air in the new room was thick, saturated with the scent of old books, dust, and something else she couldn’t quite place—something ancient. Something forgotten.

The room they entered was circular, just like the one with the key. But this one... felt different. The walls were lined with massive bookshelves, their contents a jumble of old tomes, scrolls, and artifacts she couldn’t begin to name. The shelves reached higher than her eyes could follow, stretching into darkness above, where the ceiling seemed to vanish entirely. At the far end of the room, a massive archway loomed—its frame cracked and covered in thick vines, as though it hadn’t been opened in centuries.

There were no lights, yet the room seemed to glow faintly, the books themselves pulsing with a quiet energy. The air hummed, electric, as if the very space was alive.

Elara took a step forward, but the floor beneath her feet groaned. She stopped immediately, wary. “What is this place?” she asked, her voice low and cautious.

Killian had already moved toward one of the bookshelves, scanning the titles. His expression was unreadable, his eyes flicking over the spines with interest, but there was a faint tension in his shoulders.

“The Forgotten Room,” he said, his voice quiet. “It’s part of the old archives. This room is... off-limits to everyone, even the Circle. But they brought us here for a reason.”

She stepped closer, eyes narrowing. “Off-limits? Why?”

He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he picked a book from the shelf—its cover dark and cracked, the title worn off—and flipped it open. His lips moved in silent reading, then he let out a low sigh. “Because it’s a test. For you.”

The words hung in the air like a heavy fog. Elara’s breath caught. “For me?”

Killian looked up from the book, meeting her gaze with a sharp intensity. “The Circle tests everyone. But this... This is about you facing your past.”

Her stomach dropped. “What does that mean?”

Killian didn’t respond immediately. He stood and stepped back, looking at the far archway. “You need to go through. If you don’t, you’ll never understand what’s happening here. Why you’re part of this game.”

Elara swallowed, her throat dry. She hated this. Hated the feeling of not being in control. “I don’t understand.”

“The truth is hidden in that room,” he said. “A truth that you’re meant to find. But... it’s not going to be easy. And you can’t go back.”

The air seemed to pulse as the archway trembled, almost as if it were calling to her. Elara hesitated, but only for a moment. She could feel the pull, the weight of something unknown waiting on the other side.

“Fine,” she said, her voice steady, even though her heart raced. “Let’s see what’s in there.”

Killian didn’t stop her. In fact, he stepped aside, watching her closely as she walked toward the archway. The vines twisted around the frame, hissing softly as if alive, but Elara ignored them and pushed through.

Beyond the arch was an entirely different space.

It wasn’t a room, but a hallway—narrow and suffocating. The walls were lined with mirrors, each reflecting a distorted version of Elara: younger, older, angry, broken. Some mirrored versions smiled back at her, others glared, their eyes full of pain and resentment.

She kept moving, unable to look away from the faces staring back at her, until she reached the end of the hall. There, standing in front of an unmarked door, was a figure she thought she’d forgotten.

Her mother.

The figure was faint, like a wisp of smoke, but the resemblance was undeniable. Elara’s chest tightened as the vision of her mother reached out with a hand, her voice coming out in a soft, heartbreaking whisper.

“You left me. You left us. You abandoned us when we needed you most.”

Elara’s breath hitched. Her heart clenched with the familiar ache of guilt she had tried to bury for years.

“No,” Elara whispered, stepping back, but the figure of her mother didn’t disappear. Instead, she stepped forward, her face twisting with anguish.

“You think you’re strong, Elara? You think you’ve survived all of this? You left us to die. Don’t you ever forget that.”

The air grew colder, and Elara’s breath came in short, shaky gasps. She couldn’t speak, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. Her mother’s accusations were like knives, each one cutting deeper into the scars Elara had buried so long ago.

Then, from behind her, Killian’s voice broke through the haze.

“Elara!”

She turned toward him, and the vision of her mother dissolved like smoke in the wind.

Her breath was ragged, her hands trembling.

Killian’s face was serious, his voice lower than before. “It’s not real. It’s meant to break you.”

Elara blinked, trying to push the vision from her mind. But the words lingered.

Her mother’s voice. Her accusations.

She swallowed hard. “I don’t know if I can handle this. It’s too much.”

“You can,” Killian said firmly, stepping closer. “Because if you don’t, you’ll be trapped here forever. The Circle wants you to break. But you don’t have to. You’re stronger than they think.”

Her fingers curled into fists at her sides. She couldn’t break. Not now. Not when she was this close.

Slowly, with a deep breath, she turned toward the door. Her hand gripped the handle.

It was time to face whatever was waiting behind it.