(POV: Lucian & Nareth)

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POV: Lucian Mareis

By the time the rain stopped, the mirror was covered with a sheet.

Nareth had done it without saying a word, just moved across the room and thrown the fabric over it as though that thin layer of cotton could keep nightmares away.

Lucian sat curled up on the couch, knees drawn to his chest. His skin still tingled where the mirror had pulsed earlier. Like something inside him had reached out — and something else had reached back.

“I called Taviel,” Nareth said finally, his voice low. “He knows someone who might help. Someone who deals with... things like this.”

Lucian’s head snapped up. “You told him?”

“He’s your friend too,” Nareth replied gently. “And he’s noticed. Everyone has. You’re not the same, Lucian.”

The words cut, but they were true.

Lucian wasn’t the same — not since the accident, not since the night he’d woken up in another man’s skin. He still didn’t know why or how, only that when he looked at his reflection, sometimes it looked back like a stranger.

“I just want to understand,” he whispered.

Nareth came closer, kneeling in front of him. “Then we’ll find the truth together.”

Lucian met his eyes — warm, determined, heartbreakingly sincere.

He wanted to believe him. He needed to.

But deep down, there was a pulse that wasn’t his own. A memory that didn’t belong to him.

When Nareth touched his hand, that hum beneath his skin answered. The air seemed to tighten between them.

Lucian flinched. “Did you feel that?”

“Yeah,” Nareth breathed. “Like electricity.”

Their fingers stayed tangled a second too long — the kind of touch that carried a secret neither of them could name.

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POV: Nareth Sol

Later that night, Taviel arrived.

He looked tired, but sharp-eyed as always, a faint smirk hiding something heavier.

“So,” Taviel said, glancing at the covered mirror. “That’s the one?”

Nareth nodded. “Whatever it is... it’s connected to him.”

Taviel hummed. “Then let’s find out what it wants.”

He reached for the sheet, but Lucian’s hand shot out. “Wait—please—”

The lights flickered.

The room went cold.

And the mirror spoke.

He already knows.

Lucian froze. “Who—who knows?”

The reflection shifted — and there he was.

Lucian’s own face staring back, but the expression wasn’t his. It smiled, cruel and patient.

You’re in the wrong body, Lucian Mareis.

The words made Nareth’s blood run cold.

Taviel stepped forward, his voice steady. “What do you mean by that?”

The reflection tilted its head. Ask him what he did to Irian Thal.

Lucian’s breath hitched. His pulse stuttered.

And for the first time, Nareth saw something flicker behind his eyes — guilt, terror, and recognition.