The sigil beneath Rose's feet surged with heat, and the floor vanished.
She dropped into darkness.
But she didn't fall.
She hovered—suspended in a void of silence and flickering firelight. A single flame danced before her, floating midair. It was small, almost innocent. But she could feel its power. It pulsed with memory, desire, and pain.
Then a voice echoed through the dark. Cold. Familiar.
"Face what you fear, or be consumed by it."
The flame shifted, blooming outward into an inferno. It twisted and swirled, forming a shape: herself. A mirror image—same wild hair, same storm-lit eyes—but burning, angry, and unchained.
"Finally," the flame-Rose sneered. "Took you long enough to show up."
Rose stared, heart hammering. "What are you?"
"I'm everything you won't admit. The chaos you hide. The rage you leash. The part of you that wanted to burn it all down."
The inferno-Rose circled her like a predator. "You think you've mastered Brimstone? Please. You've only scratched the surface."
Rose narrowed her eyes. "I'm not afraid of you."
"Then fight me."
Fire-Rose struck.
Rose barely blocked the blow, sparks skidding across her forearms. They clashed again—flame against storm. Fire-Rose moved like a thought, a scream, a wildfire unbound. But Rose fought with purpose. Precision. Control.
"You can't win without me," her doppelgänger snarled. "I'm your truth."
"No," Rose panted, dodging another searing strike. "You're my shadow. And I don't have to become you to accept you."
She reached into the storm inside her, not to destroy—but to connect.
Lightning met flame.
The fire-Rose froze mid-strike.
"You're not me," Rose whispered, "but you're part of me. I'm done denying that."
The fire shuddered, her doppelgänger cracking like glass.
Rose stepped forward and touched her other self's chest.
"Let's burn together."
The mirror-Rose smiled—and burst into light.
The void shattered.
Rose fell to her knees in the Council chamber, breath ragged. Smoke curled from her skin, but she was whole.
Mordessa stared, eyes unreadable. The younger Councilor stood, face pale. "Impossible."
"She faced the Trial of Flame and lived," another whispered.
Belladoma stepped forward, calm but proud. "She didn't just live. She balanced it."
The sigil on the floor dimmed.
Mordessa rose. "Then the Council acknowledges Rose Thorne as a witch of the storm and flame."
A hush fell.
Rose blinked up at them, her limbs trembling.
"Wait... that's it?"
Belladoma helped her stand. "You've done what no one else could. You've proven your will is stronger than your chaos."
Nimbus flew down from the rafters. "Pfft. I could've told them that."
Mordessa gave the faintest smile. "Welcome, Witch of Brimstone."
As Rose left the chamber, the storm inside her rumbled softly—not in warning, but in approval.
She was no longer a girl they feared.
She was a force they respected.