(Season of Reflection, Part X)

POV 1 — REINA: THE DOOR THAT SHOULD NEVER HAVE CLOSED

The Lunar Bastion doors slammed shut with a metallic boom that vibrated through Reina’s bones. The sound was final—too final—like the sealed lid of a tomb, like the closing of a story that was never meant to end this way.

Reina stumbled forward, palms slamming against the cold moon-forged surface.

“Elara!” she shouted, voice breaking. “ELARA! Open the door! PLEASE!”

No answer.

No movement.

Only the muffled thunder of countless Echo fragments hurling themselves at the Queen on the other side.

Reina pressed her forehead to the door, breath trembling, nails scraping uselessly against enchanted metal. She felt Dyug’s presence behind her—quiet, shaking, the same way he had been when Dyug thought Aurel might lose his soul in the Core.

But this time it wasn’t fear for a child.

It was grief for a queen.

For the closest thing Aurel had to a mother.

Mary limped to Reina’s side, cracks glowing faintly with every step. She placed a crystalline hand on the door, her voice barely audible.

“She’s still alive.”

Reina swallowed hard. “How do you know?”

Mary closed her eyes. “Because the fragments scream when they weaken. Because the moonlight still pulses. Because… because she has not allowed herself to fall.”

Reina wiped hot tears from her cheeks. “But she will fall if we don’t help her.”

Dyug’s voice came from behind them, gentle but iron-clad. “Then we must get strong enough to return to her. We can’t break out right now… but we can fight once Aurel wakes.”

Reina stared at him.

Then at the limp boy in his arms.

Aurel’s small face was peaceful… too peaceful. As if he was far, far away. His fingers curled faintly around Dyug’s armor, like he clung to a dream.

Reina whispered, voice cracking:

“Elara stayed behind for him.”

Mary’s expression softened with rare sadness. “Elara stayed behind for all of us.”

Reina pressed her hand harder against the door.

“I won’t forgive myself,” she whispered. “Not unless we bring her back.”

Mary didn’t say “We can’t.”

Dyug didn’t say “She knew the risks.”

Both of them simply stood beside Reina in silence…

Because they all knew—

The battle wasn’t over.

It had only changed shape.

POV 2 — QUEEN ELARA: THE MOON THAT REFUSES TO BREAK

The barrier shattered behind her.

Elara’s eyes narrowed as shards of lunar force erupted outward, dispersing into the Citadel’s air like silver dust. The cacophony of Echo fragments filled the corridor—hundreds of small, trembling silhouettes scrambling toward her with jerking limbs and hollow, unfinished faces.

Echo debris, she thought.

But with enough malice to kill.

She stood in the center of the hall, moonlight swirling around her feet like a rising tide. She lifted her hand:

“MOON—OBEY.”

Light exploded from her form.

A tidal wave of silver energy surged down the corridor—incinerating the first twenty fragments into powder. Their shrieks cut off instantly, leaving behind the crackling hum of burned harmonics.

More crawled over the remains—climbing walls, ceilings, each other.

Elara breathed deeply.

Slowly.

Calmly.

This was no longer a battle for territory.

Or survival.

Or control.

It was a battle of time.

She only had to hold long enough for Aurel to awaken.

“You will not touch him,” she said softly.

A fragment lunged.

Her hand snapped up. A beam of moonlight bisected it mid-air.

“You will not reach my children.”

Another wave surged.

She spread her arms wide—moonlight bursting outward like wings.

“You will not take my realm.”

The hall detonated in blinding radiance.

Yet even as she fought—masterfully, beautifully, desperately—Elara felt it:

A thinning in her core.

A fraying of her lunar channels.

The toll of the Core chamber.

The wounds she still carried.

The exhaustion she hid from her people.

And above all—

The knowledge that she was fighting an enemy that did not think, did not fear, did not die the way living things did.

Echo fragments didn’t bleed or hesitate.

They simply replaced themselves.

Faster than she could erase them.

But still—

Elara did not retreat.

Queens did not retreat.

The Citadel trembled around her—but she held the line, one breath at a time.

Just wake up, Aurel…

She whispered it under her breath as she cut through another wave.

Wake up and change what I cannot.

POV 3 — MARY: THE GUARDIAN WHO CANNOT REST

Inside the Bastion, Mary exhaled slowly as she placed her hand on a moon-crystal for support. If her crystalline lungs could ache, they would. If her body could break any louder, it might scream.

Reina rushed to her side. “Mary—stop pushing yourself.”

Mary smiled weakly. “I am not pushing. I am… resisting collapse.”

“That’s not better!”

Mary’s laugh was soft, crystalline, and fragile. “No, it is not.”

Dyug laid Aurel on a floating moon-bed, brushing the boy’s hair from his forehead with trembling fingers. His voice was low.

“How long do you think we have before the fragments break through?”

Mary turned her head toward the sealed door.

The runes etched across it flickered—steady, then dim, then steady.

Her voice came out like cracking glass.

“Not long.”

Reina’s stomach twisted. “Minutes?”

“Perhaps an hour,” Mary whispered. “Perhaps less.”

Dyug clenched his fists. “Elara is out there alone.”

“Not alone,” Mary corrected softly. “The Citadel itself fights with her.”

Reina didn’t feel reassured.

She felt sick.

Mary stepped forward and placed her hands against the door again.

Her fractures pulsed painfully.

“Mary, stop—”

“Please,” Mary whispered. “Let me listen.”

Silence.

Then—

A soft, agonizing ringing sound.

Like a song being torn apart.

Dyug stiffened. Reina covered her mouth.

Mary’s eyes dimmed.

“Elara has taken a wound.”

Reina’s knees buckled.

Dyug whispered, voice hoarse:

“Then we have to prepare Aurel… for whatever comes next.”

Mary nodded.

Slowly.

Heavily.

With far more sorrow than a construct should ever hold.

POV 4 — AUREL: THE AWAKENING THAT SHOULD NOT HAPPEN

Aurel drifted in the dream-threshold.

Light on one side.

Shadow on the other.

A world split like a wounded mirror.

The voices whispered again.

Your mother is fighting.

She bleeds.

She falls.

She stands again.

But she will not stand forever.

Aurel trembled.

He wanted to run toward the light.

He wanted to run toward the darkness.

But his feet wouldn’t move.

He didn’t know which one he needed.

A faint shape appeared beside him—small, trembling, flickering like an incomplete reflection.

A fragment.

But not hostile.

Not formed.

Not anything more than a fading memory.

Aurel’s breath caught.

“…Are you him?” he whispered. “The part that broke?”

The fragment tilted its head.

Then spoke—softly, like distant wind.

I am what you lost.

I am what he stole.

I am what you feared.

I am what you need.

Aurel reached out a hand—

And the fragment reached back.

Their fingers touched.

Light burst around them—bright, pure, searing.

Aurel gasped.

He felt it.

Every choice.

Every fear.

Every shadow.

Every hope.

The fragment lifted its gaze.

He divided us.

We must become one again.

Aurel clenched his small fists.

“Will it hurt?”

Yes.

“Will it break me?”

If you refuse it.

Aurel swallowed.

“Will it save them?”

If you accept it.

He looked toward the realm of light.

Then toward the realm of shadow.

Then he exhaled—

And stepped into both.

POV 5 — DYUG: THE CHILD WHO MUST STAND

Aurel’s small body arched on the moon-bed, his back bowing as silver and black flickered across his skin.

Dyug lunged forward.

“AUREL!”

Reina grabbed his arm. “Don’t touch him—look!”

Mary’s eyes widened, her voice unsteady.

“He is synchronizing with his Echo residues…”

Dyug blinked hard. “Is that safe?!”

“No.”

Dyug’s heart stopped.

“But it is necessary.”

Aurel gasped—a soft, broken sound—

Then—

His eyes snapped open.

Not silver.

Not shadow.

Both.

Swirling, balanced, terrifying and beautiful.

Reina gasped.

Mary dropped to one knee.

Dyug froze as the child looked straight at him.

Not with fear.

Not with confusion.

Not with childish innocence.

But with clarity.

“Dyug,” Aurel whispered, “where is Mother?”

Dyug swallowed. “Holding the hallway. Protecting us.”

Aurel sat up slowly, swinging his legs over the bed.

And when his feet touched the ground—

The Bastion trembled.

Moonlight bent around him.

Shadows curled beneath him.

Dyug stared in awe. “Aurel…”

Aurel’s voice was small.

But absolute.

“I am going to her.”

Reina stepped forward. “Aurel, you can’t—”

He shook his head.

“I can.”

Mary stood, trembling, fractures glowing.

“Then we will go with you.”

Aurel gave a faint, grateful smile.

“Thank you.”

Dyug lifted his spear.

Reina raised her broken staff.

Mary’s crystals flared with unstable light.

And Aurel walked toward the sealed door.

He placed his hand against it.

Silver and shadow spiraled outward—

And the Lunar Bastion door…

unlocked.

POV 6 — ELARA: THE MOMENT ALL QUEENS FEAR

Elara fell to one knee.

Her breath caught.

A fragment’s claw had pierced her side, leaving a smear of silver blood dripping down her robes. Her vision blurred—but she still swung her arm upward, cleaving the attackers before they reached her.

She staggered.

More fragments crawled through the windows, vents, cracks in the ceiling.

They were endless.

A queen could fall here.

A mother could die here.

She exhaled shakily.

“If this is what it takes…”

She raised her trembling hands—

“…then I accept it.”

The fragments shrieked—

And then—

The door behind her erupted in blinding silver and shadow.

Elara turned.

Her breath caught.

Her heart stopped.

A small silhouette stepped through the light.

Aurel.

But not the wounded boy she had carried.

Not the frightened child who clung to Mary.

This Aurel stood tall—eyes shining with twinned power, voice steady as moonlight.

“Mother,” he said softly.

The fragments paused—confused.

Aurel stepped between her and the swarm.

“You don’t have to fight alone anymore.”

Elara whispered his name.

“Aurel…”

He lifted his small hand—

And the entire corridor ignited.

Silver and shadow spiraled outward, forming a radiant shockwave that vaporized every fragment between the Queen and her son.

Dyug, Reina, and Mary stood behind Aurel, weapons drawn, faces lit by the light of a new dawn.

Aurel finally turned toward Elara.

His eyes softened.

And he whispered—

“I’m here.”

Elara’s body finally gave out.

Not from injury.

Not from exhaustion.

But from relief.

She collapsed forward—

And Aurel caught her.