the timid bride

# Chapter 91 – Between Two Worlds

Zara stood in the Veilstone Sanctum—an ancient chamber deep beneath the palace, untouched by time. Only she and Kael knew it existed. Firelight flickered across its obsidian walls, casting dancing shadows that didn't quite follow the laws of nature.

The mirror from V lay at the center.

She'd studied it for days, its surface warping when she touched it. Thorne's best mages couldn't decipher it. But Zara could feel its pull.

"I think it wants me to cross," she said.

Kael crossed his arms. "And I think it's a trap."

Zara turned. "Everything has been a trap. And yet I survived."

She reached for the mirror.

And the world shifted.

---

She didn't fall. She didn't walk.

She simply *was*—in a world made of ash and ember, skyless and silent. It was like the realm she knew, but drained of color, filled with broken statues of queens and kings who wore her face.

The Veil.

It whispered to her. Names. Futures. Warnings.

She moved through this spectral plane, drawn toward a distant tower of light.

Inside, a figure awaited.

It was… her.

Or something wearing her form.

"I am your echo," it said. "I am what you become if you choose vengeance."

Zara frowned. "And if I don't?"

Another version of herself appeared—dressed in white, a crown of crystal.

"I am what you become if you choose mercy."

Zara narrowed her eyes. "What if I choose neither?"

A third form shimmered between them—flames for eyes, no face.

"Then you become the end."

Zara reached for her blade.

But her blade was gone.

"I didn't come here for riddles," she said. "I came for answers. Who is V?"

The three forms answered as one:

"V is not one. V is many. V is the memory of flame reborn each century. You are the fire. V is the smoke left behind."

---

Back in the real world, Kael paced as the mirror rippled.

Amara joined him.

"She's been gone too long," she said.

"I know," Kael muttered. "But if anyone can come back from the Veil, it's her."

---

Inside the Veil, Zara climbed the light tower until she reached a balcony.

There, a vast army stood in silence. Veilborn. Spirits. Shadows of history. Watching her.

A voice echoed above them.

"Choose, Queen of Flame. What path will you burn?"

Zara closed her eyes.

And chose…

Herself.

Neither vengeance nor mercy. Neither past nor prophecy.

"I will forge a new path," she said. "I am not your echo. I am not your tool. I am the Flame Queen."

A wind howled through the Veil.

The army bowed.

And the tower dissolved.

---

She awoke gasping, the mirror gone.

Kael caught her. "You're back."

Zara's voice was hoarse. "I saw the Veil. I saw… me. Too many versions. Too many ends."

"What did you choose?"

Zara stood, taller than before.

"I chose to burn the script. And write my own."

---

By nightfall, she called her council.

"The Veil is real. And it's leaking. The Ashborn opened something. And it's not done."

Thorne paled. "If it spreads…"

Zara nodded. "Then we're not just defending our world. We're defending all realities."

Kael drew his sword. "Then we fight across worlds."

Amara grinned. "Sounds fun."

Zara looked at them.

"No crown. No flame. No prophecy will decide this war. *We* will."

And across the continent, as strange signs flickered in the sky and dreams turned darker, all who had heard her name began to whisper again:

**The Flame Queen has awakened.**

And she is choosing fire.