The road east of the City of Silent Bells was quiet — too quiet, even for a land reborn from dreams.Mist curled around their ankles as Kael, Lira, and Seren followed the old stone path that wound through valleys of pale grass.The air was cool, touched with the scent of rain and something faintly sweet — like honey mixed with smoke.
Kael still could not speak.Since giving his voice to the city, he had only silence. But somehow, his silence spoke louder than words. His eyes had changed — calm but distant, like someone listening to a song no one else could hear.
Lira glanced at him often, worried. "Are you sure you're all right?"
Kael smiled faintly, nodding. He wrote a few words in the air with his finger, light glowing where it passed.
"Silence teaches what sound forgets."
Lira sighed softly. "You and your strange wisdom."
Seren chuckled. "I liked it better when he could argue."
Kael gave a silent laugh, then pointed ahead.Beyond the mist, the land shimmered. Trees appeared — tall, silver, and delicate. Their branches curved upward like glass arms, and their leaves shone like small mirrors. Each leaf reflected a different sky.
Lira gasped. "It's beautiful…"
Seren frowned. "It's wrong. No forest should look like that."
They stepped closer, and Kael realized why the air had felt heavy.Every mirror-leaf shimmered not only with sky — but with faces.
Faces of people.Some laughing, some crying, some watching silently.
The reflections followed them as they walked.
At the heart of the grove stood a tree larger than the rest — its trunk smooth as water, its roots spreading like veins of light.A faint hum came from it, low and sad.
Lira touched one of the roots. The mirror-surface rippled — and suddenly, she was gone.
Kael and Seren turned sharply."Lira!" Seren shouted.
The tree glowed faintly, and before Kael could react, he felt something pull at his chest — like being drawn into a breath that wasn't his own. The world twisted, and the next moment, he stood in sunlight.
He blinked.He was in a small cottage by a lake. The water outside glittered, calm and endless. A warm wind carried the smell of bread.
A voice spoke behind him — soft, familiar. "You're back early."
Kael turned.Lira stood there, smiling. Not the Lira he knew — her hair was longer, her eyes calmer, her clothes simple and home-worn.
He looked down. His own hands were different — rough, unscarred. No burns, no marks, no sword-calluses.
"What is this?" he whispered, forgetting he had no voice — and yet, here, he did.
"This," she said, "is what could have been."
Outside, the orchard shone with reflected light. Children played beneath the mirrored trees.One of them — a boy with Lira's smile — ran up to Kael and laughed. "Father!"
Kael froze.His heart trembled. "This… isn't real."
Lira tilted her head. "What makes something real? The blood in your veins? The love in your chest? Or the memory that says it never happened?"
He couldn't answer.
The boy tugged at his sleeve. "Come play with us!"
Kael smiled weakly, kneeling down. He touched the boy's face — warm, alive, full of joy.For one impossible moment, he wanted to stay.
Maybe this was what the world could have been if he had never lit the flame.
But then, the air around him shimmered.The lake rippled, showing not reflections but cracks. The sky above bent, its color bleeding away.
Lira's face changed — softer, sadder. "You can't stay here, Kael. This is only the dream of a life you once wished for."
He swallowed. "Then why show me?"
She smiled faintly. "Because sometimes, to move forward, you must mourn the life you never lived."
The cottage dissolved into silver dust.
Kael gasped and stumbled back into the real orchard. Lira and Seren stood beside him, eyes wide — both had seen something too.
Seren looked shaken. "It showed me my sister. The one I left behind."
Lira's eyes were red. "It showed me peace. It almost felt cruel."
Kael touched the trunk of the great tree again. His reflection stared back — but this time, there were two of him.
One tired and scarred. The other smiling, unbroken.
He stared at the other Kael, who spoke softly:
"You carry both of us. The one who fights, and the one who dreams."
Kael whispered back, "Which one am I?"
"The one who chooses."
The reflection reached out. Kael touched it — and warmth spread through him, not pain. The mirror rippled and stilled, now showing only sky.
Seren looked at him quietly. "What did it tell you?"
Kael smiled without words and wrote slowly in the air:
'Dreams are not lies — they're roads we didn't take.'
Lira nodded. "And maybe roads we still can."
They turned to leave. Behind them, the orchard shimmered once, the mirrored leaves catching the last rays of sun. For a brief moment, each reflection aligned perfectly — showing not the past or the future, but the present.
A single thought crossed Kael's mind, soft as a prayer:
"If every reflection holds a choice, then maybe healing is learning which one to keep."
As they walked away, the wind carried faint whispers through the mirrored trees —not of sorrow this time, but of peace.