Caelum's flames had barely faded when it happened.
A sudden, searing pulse stabbed through Aurora's skull—not a sound, but something deeper. A vibration beneath thought. Like a needle piercing the core of her mind.
She staggered.
And then—
A voice.
Whisper-thin. Ice-cold.
But inside her.
"Aurora."
She froze. Her breath caught.
"Come. Alone. Unless you want your precious ones to burn."
Behind her eyes, visions burst like shattered glass—
—Her mother brushing her hair, humming softly.
—Her father sneaking laddoos into her school bag.
—Her brother ruffling her head, handing her her favorite gum.
—Luna's hand tugging hers across the street, laughing.
—Hazel and Nora spinning wildly in the hostel room, music blaring, joy untamed.
—Caelum laughing at her blabbers.
Then—
Flames. Screams. Smoke. Ash.
Everything—gone.
She gasped, hands trembling. The air itself felt poisonous.
"I need to go," she whispered, unthinking.
Caelum turned sharply. "Aurora?"
She took a step back, eyes wide, barely breathing.
He reached for her. "What's wrong—?"
"I have to go!" Her voice cracked like splintered glass.
And she ran.
Out of the chamber, down the dark, labyrinthine corridor—
The walls blurred. The shadows reached.
She didn't look back.
—
Caelum stood still, her cry still echoing in the space where she had been.
"I have to go."
It echoed louder inside his chest than in the room.
He could've chased her. Caged her in his fire.
But he didn't.
Because underneath the sting of abandonment…
He believed her.
And so, for the first time since he arrived at Eldridge Hall—
He let someone go.
—
Aurora's feet barely touched the ground. She didn't know how she got there.
Only that something pulled her.
The corridors twisted in impossible ways—doors appearing where there had been none, halls looping into silence.
And then—
A door.
Unmarked. Barely ajar.
Something inside it waited.
She stepped in.
Darkness swallowed her.
The smell hit first—dust and rot and forgotten things.
The room was choked in decay.
Withered plants clung to cracked stone, vines dry and brittle like corpses. Leaves curled inward like they had died screaming.
And yet—something moved.
The door slammed shut behind her.
She flinched.
"Welcome," the voice purred.
She turned—and saw her.
A woman stepped from the shadows, draped in silk so dark it looked like spilled ink. Her face was mostly hidden behind a veil, but her eyes—
Glowed green. Poison and power. And something ancient.
She didn't walk. She glided.
"Did you like the illusion?" she whispered sweetly. "Your friends. Your family. Warm memories. So fragile."
Aurora said nothing. Her hands were fists now. Shaking.
The woman circled her like a hawk.
"You're worth more than they know. But you keep crawling back to fire. To him."
She sneered.
"That boy. Caelum Thorne. A cage made of flame."
Aurora's spine stiffened.
The woman smiled wider. "Let him go… and I'll show you your true power."
A long silence.
Then—Aurora's voice, steel-edged:
"Who are you?"
The woman tilted her head.
"Call me Lysandra," she said, almost playfully. "Or simply… your future."
She leaned in close. Her breath was cold.
"Stay with him, and everyone you love dies screaming. Join me… and they live."
As if summoned, the dead vines stirred—shivering, waking, reaching.
One brushed Aurora's leg. Cold. Hungry.
She gasped and stumbled back.
The watch on her wrist flared—briefly. A warm pulse.
Far away…
Fire stirred.
---
Caelum's chest burned—not with magic, but dread.
He ran.
Faster than wind, faster than logic—his body pure instinct.
He burst into the central chamber. Lady Mairead turned in alarm.
"She's gone!" he shouted. "Something lured her. Threatened her."
Mairead's face turned grim. Professor Nyx stepped from the shadows like a storm given form.
"Where?"Mairead demanded.
"I don't know. But it felt… dark. Wrong."
Nyx's eyes narrowed.
"The Forbidden Wing."
The room stilled. Even the torches flickered as if in warning.
"No one goes there," she said coldly. "Not even the Watchers."
Caelum didn't listen. He bolted.
They followed.
---
They reached the corridor.
But the path—
Was gone.
A wall now stood where the arch once was. Stone—ancient, gnarled, like it had grown there for centuries.
"The Hall has sealed her in." Mairead whispered.
"It's waiting." murmured Master Carven. "Waiting to see what she chooses."
"She's trapped!" Caelum shouted. "That thing has her!"
Nyx raised her chin. "Eldridge Hall interferes with no fate. She must decide alone."
But Caelum shook his head. Hands clenched. Breath ragged.
"Then I'll burn fate itself."
—
Heat exploded from his core.
Flames curled around him—not wild this time, but deliberate.
They swirled in golden arcs, lifting him from the ground. Light danced like fireflies around his head.
The wall shivered.
Not crumbling—resisting.
But Caelum didn't want to destroy.
He wanted to protect.
The fire bent to that longing—grew gentle. Powerful. Focused.
And then—
Crack.
The wall split—just a breath. Just a thread of light.
Mairead shielded her face. "He's shaping it."
Master Carven's voice was filled with awe. "The fire listens… because he finally understands... LOVE."
But Nyx raised her hand.
Her seal flashed—black runes like vipers.
A beam of force struck Caelum.
He screamed, collapsing. The flames recoiled. His body hit the ground hard.
But the crack in the wall…
Remained.
—
Elsewhere.
Aurora screamed.
Vines had wrapped around her ankle, her thigh, her waist—dragging her toward the dead wall.
She fought. Kicked. Bit. But they were stronger than fear.
Lysandra watched, smiling like a mother watching a child fail to walk.
"Not so strong now, are you?"
"I didn't ask for this!" Aurora cried.
"No." Lysandra's voice was almost tender. "But it asked for you."
The air shimmered.
A pulse.
Warmth.
Her watch glowed—soft gold.
For a second, she felt him.
Caelum. Reaching. Hurting. Burning for her.
Her tears broke.
"If you die, I die too."
His voice echoed again.
More vines climbed her. One brushed her cheek.
She clenched her fists.
"No…"
They squeezed tighter.
"NO!"
And then—
A new pulse.
Not his.
Hers.
From her chest, something bloomed—soft, golden light, like sunlight on water.
A vine hissed as it touched her skin—burned and snapped.
Lysandra's smile vanished.
"What is that?"
Aurora opened her eyes—fierce, bright, alive.
"Not your future."
And with that—she reached inside herself—
And unleashed.