---
The black mirror Elyos gave Chirag was unlike anything he had ever held. It wasn't heavy, but it felt as if it carried the weight of time itself. No reflection appeared in its surface—only light and dark swirling together, like stars trapped in ink.
Back in the tower, Siya placed protective runes around the room while Kael stood by the window, watching the sky. The clouds were moving strangely, curling in spirals, like the sky itself was thinking.
Chirag sat on the floor, holding the mirror in both hands.
"What do I do?" he asked softly.
Elyos's words echoed in his mind: "This mirror will show you the one who knows the path."
He took a breath and looked into it.
At first, nothing.
Then, suddenly, the mirror pulled him in.
---
Chirag found himself in a place with no ground, no sky—only floating lights, drifting shapes, and endless silence. A strange energy buzzed around him. It wasn't painful, just… unfamiliar.
A figure appeared ahead. Tall, hooded in white and gold, with no visible face. It did not speak, but Chirag knew—it was the one. The one who knew.
Chirag stepped forward.
"Who are you?" he asked.
The figure didn't answer with words. Instead, visions exploded in Chirag's mind—worlds forming, light clashing with darkness, ancient beings falling into sleep, sealed by gods who feared them.
Then a voice, like wind and thunder, whispered:
"I am the Witness. The last memory of the First Flame."
"The First Flame?" Chirag repeated.
"The source of all creation. Before gods. Before demons. Before names."
Chirag swallowed hard. "Then tell me—what must I do to stop the Primordials?"
The Witness raised a hand, and a glowing path appeared in the void, lined with runes and stars.
"There are five ancient threads holding the seals. You must find them. Strengthen them. Or the world will return to nothing."
Chirag stepped closer. "Where are they?"
"Scattered. One in each forgotten corner of the world. One in yourself."
Chirag's heart raced. "And if I fail?"
The Witness lowered its hand.
"Then nothing will remain—not time, not life, not love. Only silence."
The mirror pulsed once more, and Chirag was pulled back.
---
He gasped, waking up in the tower. Siya knelt beside him, holding his hand. Kael was at the door, blade drawn.
"What did you see?" Siya asked.
Chirag sat up, still catching his breath. "The Witness. A memory of something older than gods. It showed me… threads—five of them. They're the key to sealing the Primordials again."
Kael raised an eyebrow. "Threads?"
"Not literal ones," Chirag explained. "More like… anchors. Pillars of reality. If they're broken, the Primordials will return."
"Then we find them," Siya said, determination in her eyes.
Chirag nodded. "And the first one is in the place even gods forgot."
---
They left the next morning.
The journey took them beyond the borders of any known map, across a sea that shimmered with strange colors. Their ship creaked as they passed through mists that sang, and storms that whispered names no one remembered.
Finally, they arrived at a land hidden behind veils of illusion—The Hollow Edge.
It was a barren land of black soil and dying stars. No sun. No moon. Only a strange red glow that pulsed from the ground like a heartbeat.
"This is where time was once broken," Siya whispered.
As they walked deeper, the air grew heavy, like it didn't want them there. And then they saw it—a stone pillar rising from the ground, covered in symbols older than language.
At its base was a figure—human-like, cloaked in white feathers, unmoving.
Chirag stepped forward. The figure stirred, then opened eyes that glowed silver.
"You come to mend what was broken," it said.
"Yes," Chirag replied. "You're the keeper of this thread?"
"I was. Until I failed."
"What do you mean?" Kael asked.
The figure stood, sorrow in its eyes. "The thread here is fraying. If it breaks, chaos will spill."
Siya asked carefully, "Can we fix it?"
The keeper looked at Chirag. "Only one who carries fire and love in equal measure can try. But the thread is alive. It must accept you."
Chirag stepped forward. "Then let me try."
The pillar glowed. Lines of light wrapped around Chirag's arm, pulling him toward it. Inside his mind, voices rose—screaming, whispering, tempting.
"Why bother? Let it fall. Let them all fall."
But then came Siya's voice. Calm. Warm.
"You are not alone."
Chirag gritted his teeth, pushed forward—and reached the core of the thread. It was a glowing sphere, fragile and trembling.
He wrapped his hands around it, focusing all his love, all his fire, all his will.
The thread pulsed.
And then… it healed.
The voices vanished. Silence returned.
The keeper bowed. "You've done what I could not. One thread saved."
Chirag turned to Siya and Kael, a fire in his eyes. "Four more to go."
---
But as they returned to their ship, the sea had changed.
Dark clouds rolled in. Lightning danced across the waves.
From the sky, a voice boomed—a voice too deep, too old.
"You seek to chain us again?"
Siya looked up, her hand gripping her sword.
"They know," she whispered.
Chirag's jaw tightened. "Then let them come."
---