It rained that morning.
Not ordinary rain.
It shimmered.
Drops fell like liquid glass, refracting moments that hadn't happened yet. One landed on Eleanor's shoulder and played a memory, Leo's voice, saying, "You'll be more than us."
But he hadn't said that. Not yet.
She didn't wipe the drop away.
She let it slide down her skin and disappear.
Because now, she understood what the mirror meant when it told her she was getting close.
She was becoming.
But becoming what, she didn't yet know.
Halcyra's Silence
Halcyra hadn't spoken in two days.
Since the fissure showed them the origin, the spell, the wish, the creation of Eleanor, she had gone quiet. Not cold. Not distant.
Just… quiet.
As if watching the world for the first time again.
She walked the halls like a ghost with purpose. Students bowed their heads when she passed. Even Vincent kept a respectful distance.
But Eleanor felt it.
They were synchronizing.
