Myreiya did not sleep.
The parchment remained on her desk.
Four simple words.
Find the First Prison.
She had read them a hundred times.
The meaning never changed.
Yet somehow the message felt different each time she looked at it.
As if the words were alive.
Watching her.
Waiting.
The candles burned low.
Outside her chamber, rain battered the palace windows.
Lightning illuminated the darkness.
Thunder followed seconds later.
The storm had finally arrived.
Myreiya stood beside the window.
The kingdom stretched beneath her.
Thousands of lights.
Thousands of lives.
All depending on her.
All believing she was strong.
If only they knew.
Her fingers tightened around the parchment.
The old man's words echoed inside her mind.
The bloodline survives.
What bloodline?
What throne?
What prison?
Questions.
Nothing but questions.
And every answer seemed connected to the same thing.
Mirror.
Across the palace.
Mirror knelt on the floor.
The pain had returned.
The mark burned hotter than ever.
It felt as though fire lived beneath his skin.
Every breath hurt.
Every heartbeat echoed through the symbol carved into his chest.
The room was silent.
Until the voice spoke again.
"You are getting closer."
Mirror clenched his jaw.
"I don't know what you are."
"You do."
"No."
The voice laughed.
Ancient amusement.
The sound made his skin crawl.
"You simply refuse to remember."
The shadows in the room moved.
Slowly.
Unnaturally.
Gathering near the walls.
Watching him.
Waiting.
Mirror stood.
The shadows stood too.
His heartbeat quickened.
For a moment—
The darkness took shape.
A throne.
A crown.
A battlefield.
Then everything vanished.
Gone.
As though it had never existed.
Mirror's breathing became uneven.
The voice whispered.
"The First Prison has awakened."
A chill ran down his spine.
"What is the First Prison?"
Silence.
Then:
"A mistake."
The next morning.
The palace erupted into chaos.
Messengers arrived before dawn.
Guards rushed through corridors.
Nobles shouted.
Servants whispered.
Fear spread faster than fire.
Myreiya entered the throne room.
The council was already waiting.
Lord Veyron stepped forward immediately.
"Your Majesty."
His face looked pale.
Terrified.
That alone was alarming.
"What happened?"
The old noble swallowed.
"A tower appeared."
Silence.
Myreiya froze.
"What?"
"A black tower."
He struggled to keep his voice steady.
"It emerged during the storm."
The throne room fell silent.
Every noble looked frightened.
Every guard looked uneasy.
Myreiya felt ice spread through her chest.
The old man.
The parchment.
The prison.
This could not be coincidence.
"Where?"
Lord Veyron answered.
"The Forbidden Wastelands."
The room exploded with whispers.
Everyone knew the wastelands.
No one entered.
No one returned.
For centuries the land had remained empty.
Cursed.
Dead.
Untouched.
And now—
A tower stood there.
Waiting.
Mirror entered the throne room.
The moment he stepped inside—
The mark exploded with pain.
His knees nearly buckled.
His vision blurred.
The throne.
The walls.
The nobles.
Everything disappeared.
For a split second—
He saw something else.
The same room.
But ruined.
Destroyed.
Covered in blood.
Corpses filled the floor.
The throne stood broken.
And sitting upon it—
Was someone wearing the black crown.
Their face hidden.
Their eyes glowing crimson.
The figure looked directly at him.
Then smiled.
Mirror blinked.
The vision vanished.
The throne room returned.
No one seemed to notice.
Except one person.
Myreiya.
She was already staring at him.
Watching.
Studying.
As though searching for answers inside his face.
Their eyes met.
Something passed between them.
Fear.
Confusion.
Recognition.
Neither understood why.
"My Queen."
Lord Veyron's voice interrupted the silence.
"We must send an expedition."
The nobles immediately began arguing.
"Absolutely not."
"It's too dangerous."
"We need answers."
"We need soldiers."
"We need priests."
The shouting intensified.
Myreiya listened.
Expressionless.
Cold.
Controlled.
Yet inside—
A decision had already been made.
She stood.
The room instantly fell silent.
"I will go."
Shock swept across the chamber.
Several nobles nearly fell from their seats.
"My Queen!"
"Impossible!"
"Too dangerous!"
Myreiya ignored them.
"If this tower is connected to our kingdom, I will see it myself."
Nobody argued further.
Because they knew better.
When Myreiya made a decision—
It became law.
Hours later.
Preparations began.
Elite guards.
Royal mages.
Scouts.
Supply wagons.
Everyone moved quickly.
The expedition would leave at dawn.
Myreiya watched from the palace courtyard.
Rain continued falling.
The sky remained dark.
Mirror stood nearby.
Silent as always.
Yet something felt different.
The distance between them had changed.
She could feel it.
Not physically.
Something deeper.
More dangerous.
The realization irritated her.
"Mirror."
He immediately bowed.
"My Queen."
She studied him.
His face revealed nothing.
As usual.
"Look at me."
Slowly—
He obeyed.
Their eyes met.
For several seconds neither spoke.
The world seemed strangely quiet.
Then Myreiya asked:
"Are you hiding something from me?"
Mirror froze.
Only for an instant.
But she noticed.
The smallest hesitation.
The smallest crack.
The answer was yes.
Her heartbeat quickened.
For reasons she refused to acknowledge.
Mirror lowered his gaze.
"I am your servant."
Not an answer.
She knew it.
He knew it.
Neither said anything.
A strange tension settled between them.
Heavy.
Dangerous.
Almost intimate.
Before either could speak—
Lightning exploded across the sky.
The ground shook.
Everyone in the courtyard stumbled.
A terrible sound echoed from the horizon.
Not thunder.
A roar.
Something enormous.
Something ancient.
Something awake.
Every person turned toward the distant wastelands.
The black tower stood against the storm.
Visible even from here.
And at its peak—
A crimson light appeared.
Like a giant eye opening.
Watching.
Waiting.
Hunting.
The mark on Mirror's chest burned.
Hard.
Harder than ever before.
He nearly cried out.
Then he heard a voice.
Not the familiar one.
A new voice.
Deeper.
Older.
Far more terrifying.
And somehow—
It spoke directly into his mind.
"At last."
Mirror's blood froze.
The voice continued.
"The Heir has returned."
His breath stopped.
The world became silent.
Because deep inside himself—
Something answered.
Something that had been sleeping.
Something that should never have awakened.
And far away inside the Black Tower—
A sealed door slowly began to open.