He told himself it was love.
But some love rots faster than corpses.
Eren Lys Valtair had always been the quiet one.
The steady one.
The one who didn't flinch when others cracked.
But now his hands were trembling.
And his heart
his heart had grown claws.
They summoned him at dusk.
The Council of Iron Veils, robed and faceless, hidden behind veils of static magic.
They did not speak aloud.
They bled words directly into the mind.
"You've been closest to her. You know what she is."
Eren said nothing.
But in his pocket, the shard of mirror pulsed warm.
He touched it with two fingers.
And in that reflection,
he saw her eyes.
Too old.
Too knowing.
And not afraid.
"Contain her. Or kill her."
They gave him a dagger made of sleep-stone.
It cut not flesh but memory.
It could erase her.
If it touched her heart.
"You said you love her," the Council whispered.
"Then give her peace."
Eren left the chamber without bowing.
He walked the old corridors slowly.
The ones she had once danced through barefoot at thirteen.
Where he used to follow, grinning, pretending not to look at her too long.
She was different now.
And so was he.
He found her in the Mirror Garden.
Where the broken moonlight reflected in twelve silent pools.
She sat at the center.
Thread coiled around her fingers.
Eyes closed.
Not asleep.
Waiting.
"Elariax."
She turned.
And smiled.
"So you're the one."
He couldn't speak.
The dagger burned cold in his sleeve.
She rose, slowly, gown brushing the glasslike water, not making a ripple.
"Did they give you something?" she asked.
"A way to end me?"
He nodded.
"Will you use it?"
He opened his mouth
And the words broke.
"I'm trying to save you."
She walked forward.
Closer.
"You were never meant to save me, Eren."
"You were meant to choose."
She placed a hand on his chest.
Right over his heart.
The mirror shard in his pocket cracked.
"Will you choose me?"
His hand moved.
The dagger was in it now.
Raised.
Shaking.
But when he looked at her face
He saw no fear.
Just a kind of grief.
Older than love.
Older than betrayal.
And older than him.
He drove the dagger toward her heart.
But she caught it.
With two fingers.
And bent the blade.
"I still love you," she whispered.
"Even now."
She kissed his forehead.
And let him go.
Eren dropped to his knees.
The dagger turned to dust.
His memories bled sideways.
His love became static.
And as he cried
Elariax vanished from the garden.