It was a light, vivid blue that was identical to the flowers he found blooming around every tear he saw. It shone brightly, like the eyes of that possessed girl. It didn’t belong to him.

  It didn’t belong here.

  He noticed he had been holding his breath when his lungs began to burn. He drew a sharp, shallow breath, unable to pry his eyes off of the reflection.

  He barely noticed Willow cover her mouth and step back, her eyes wide open and her face pale as a sheet of paper. Arwen remained calm, though her tight jaw betrayed her.

  Ilya clicked her tongue, snatching the mirror away from Arwen. “We don’t have time for this.” She snapped, grabbing Midhir’s arm with her free hand. “Mother will know what to do.” She marched away from the Induen Estate, dragging the still dazed Midhir along with her.

  Arwen’s lips parted slightly before she quickly shook her head and ran after Ilya. Willow followed her, albeit half a dozen steps later.

  He couldn’t get it out of his mind. The blue eye with the slit pupil that stared back at him. It was like looking at a stranger’s face but seeing himself. Foreign, yet familiar at the same time. In a way, it felt right. Yet the sensible part of his mind couldn’t accept that. His whole life, he had green eyes, just like those of his birth mother. He had looked at a mirror nearly every day, and always seen a pair of green eyes. Never this.

  “Do you know what caused this?” Arwen’s voice was oddly calm as she matched her pace with Ilya’s.

  “No.” The princess curtly replied. “But I know mom can heal him.”

  Arwen scowled. “Did this happen before?”

  Ilya shot her a cold glance. “No.” She spoke through gritted teeth. “Not quite.”

  It took him a handful of minutes before he finally was able to shrug off Ilya’s grasp. They didn’t slow down as she led them back towards the river, and only paused momentarily when they reached the shore. Ilya walked to the edge of the water, raising her hand as she did so. One of the gems embedded into her finger glowed brightly and the water seemed to halt before rising up to form a wide bridge.

  “Cover your eye.” Arwen whispered before they passed, quickly pulling Midhir’s hair in front of the left half of his face.

  “Thanks…” he hadn’t even considered what everyone else would think. He wasn’t thinking about that – he wasn’t thinking at all.

  Leaving the mist-covered thirteenth district felt like emerging from a cold and dark cave to a bright, warm day. Sunlight washed over them, warming their bones, and relaxing the strained muscles they weren’t even aware of.

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  “Aulorn,” Ilya’s voice was like a whip as she looked at Willow. “You and her,” she glanced at Arwen. “Take Midhir back to the Vermillion Keep.” Her gaze turned to Midhir. “Don’t do anything stupid, brother. Rest, and I’ll bring mom to help.”

  He pressed his lips together. “I don’t know if she can help.”

  Ilya narrowed her gaze. “She did it once. She can do it again.” Her words were final. She whirled around and marched towards the Empress who was standing exactly where they left her – maintaining the enormous temporary barrier protecting the city from the silent invasion of the mist.

  It was nearly impossible to recognise anywhere in the city. Even the streets he had traversed hundreds of times were unrecognisable to him as two worlds collided under his gaze.

  The gigantic trees he saw in the thirteenth district didn’t stop there – the ancient forest stretched along the whole city, the trees growing older the nearer they got to the lake at the centre. Some trees’ trunks were as wide as whole houses, and no matter how much he lifted his gaze, he couldn’t quite see the treetops. Large leaves blocked what would be sunlight, but even that was different. About a hair’s width away from the sun, there was a much larger, yet much dimmer light source – a dark, ominous crimson.

  “Don’t look at them.” Arwen’s voice startled him. “The more you look, the more you’ll see. And you really shouldn’t be seeing any of that.” Her voice lowered as she spoke mostly to herself. “That world isn’t for the mortal gaze…”

  Willow shot them an odd look but remained silent as she led them to the Keep.

  “I never told you what I see.” He glanced at the young witch, only to be scoffed at.

  “As if I need you to tell me. Your eye is proof enough.” She pressed her lips together. “I mean it – don’t look at them. Stare at the ground if you must, or at your own hands and feet. Your mind won’t be able to handle it otherwise.”

  “Do you know what’s happening?” he averted his gaze from the crimson ball hanging from the sky and turned his attention to Willow’s back. The young woman led them with a brisk pace.

  Arwen hesitated. “Not quite.” She finally admitted as they stepped on the wide, stone bridge leading to the Vermillion Keep. “I truly hope her Majesty can heal you. Otherwise…” her voice faded once more, and she didn’t speak further.

  She didn’t need to. He already knew.

  He resisted the urge to look away from Willow’s back – to look at the Vermillion Keep that seemed to be central to this other An’Larion. Instead, he walked through the gates with a brisk pace and marched directly to his chambers with Willow and Arwen in tow.

  The clash of two armies had left burnt villages, dilapidated temples, and ruined nature. The earth was still wet with blood, and crows feasted on the abandoned remains of soldiers from both sides. This particular battle had come to an end after an entire week of fighting. Soon, more scavengers would emerge, both animal and human.

  Watching the feast of crows, Circe shook her head gently. Calador was drowning. The golden sands encroached upon the kingdom’s lands, and their people were split in two, locked in a conflict of their own making.

  “We may witness the fall of a great and prosperous nation, friend.”

  The raven perched on a tall rock tilted its head and shuffled its feathers. It didn’t respond by choice.

  With a sigh, Circe turned around to leave, only to stop. Her gaze snapped to the southwest. She closed her eyes, her fingers stretched as she reached for the world root monument. Her fingertips touched the smooth, chalk-like surface. Her mind stretched, her awareness reaching across nations, just in time to see a half-man step through a portal.

  She clicked her tongue in annoyance. She was too slow to see what happened. The wave of power that radiated had already dissipated – or hidden away. She pulled her consciousness back, allowing her mind to relax as she separated it from the world roots.

  “It’s time we paid a visit to an old friend.”