Chapter 115

Chapter 115 Esra The moment Zereth agreed to help us, the air in the mirrored chamber shifted. It was subtle—like the intake of breath before a storm. Every surface rippled, reflections warping as if reacting to the weight of his choice. And I felt it. The threads moved. Not gently. Not like they usually did when I peered into them with quiet intent. This was something else entirely—a violent, sudden rearranging of fate’s tapestry, as if a sealed gate had been flung open, and the weft and weave of possibility scrambled to keep up. “This place won’t hold now,” I murmured, rising from my crouch beside the mirror stones. “The moment you bound your will to ours, the pocket plane began to unravel.” Zereth didn’t look surprised. “It was built on isolation. My exile. My refusal to take sides. Now that I’ve broken that pact…” He didn’t finish the sentence, but he didn’t need to. I could already hear the cracks. The hum of breaking wards. The subtle howl of air where there should be none. Kaelo