Chapter 12: Faces in the Flame
The second door opened like a wound.
No hinges, no frame—just light splitting across reality, then folding inward into a sharp-edged corridor made of polished black glass. It reflected not just their bodies, but their souls. Anterz saw himself with burning eyes and wings of ruin. Elaria's reflection shimmered in silver flames, while Rayn's figure flickered—fractured, as if something inside him was already broken beyond repair.
They walked.
The air grew colder with each step.
Not from temperature, but memory.
---
"This is a distortion chamber," Rayn said quietly, running his gloved fingers along the mirrored walls. "It doesn't kill you. It undoes you."
Anterz didn't slow. "We've been undone before."
Elaria frowned. "Then why does this feel worse?"
> "Because this time, we remember what's being taken," Valteris whispered.
As they moved deeper, the corridor pulsed—light rhythmically dimming and rising, like the tower itself was breathing.
Then came the laughter.
---
It wasn't loud.
It was distant. Disconnected. Like a memory echoing through someone else's bones.
Anterz halted.
A mirror ahead twisted—no longer reflecting him, but someone else.
A woman.
Tall. Crowned. Cloaked in shimmering glass shards. Her face was made of fractured surfaces—no eyes, no mouth, only angles that changed depending on where one stood.
She stepped from the reflection without touching it.
And smiled.
> "You've come far, little Ruin."
Elaria drew her blade.
The woman didn't flinch.
Rayn whispered, "That's her."
Anterz's grip on Valteris tightened. "Who?"
Rayn spoke aloud this time.
"The Mirror Queen. Once called Sivrael. The Architect of the Shattered Path."
---
The Mirror Queen tilted her head.
Her voice was a chime and a cut. Soft but cruel.
"I watched you die, Anterz. A thousand deaths, in a thousand mirrors. And now here you stand, blade drawn, name reclaimed." She gestured lazily. "You were prettier as a corpse."
Anterz stepped forward.
"You were a god once."
Sivrael laughed again. "I was more. Gods die. Mirrors endure."
She turned to Elaria.
"And you—the Echo Girl. Keeper of keys. You carry light that was never meant to return."
Elaria kept her sword raised. "You sealed the tower from the inside. Why?"
Sivrael's voice lowered. "Because he told me to."
She pointed to Anterz.
"Before he broke himself. Before he scattered ruin like seeds across the world."
---
The room changed.
They hadn't moved—but now they stood on a vast circular platform, surrounded by mirrors stretching infinitely outward. Each one showed a different truth.
One showed Anterz wearing a crown, a throne of corpses beneath him.
Another showed Elaria with wings of white flame, her hand raised over a burning city.
One showed Rayn leading an army of dead gods, his mask whole, his eyes empty.
Sivrael walked among the mirrors as if strolling through a garden.
"You want to reach the tower's heart?" she asked.
"Yes," Anterz said.
"Then choose."
She gestured at the mirrors.
"One version of you may pass."
---
Silence.
Then Elaria stepped forward.
"I'm not choosing a lie."
Sivrael turned slowly.
"Who said they were lies?"
She waved her hand.
One mirror shattered.
Inside it had been a scene: Elaria kneeling over a dying child, her silver blade broken, her pendant cracked.
"It happened," Sivrael whispered. "Just not in this world."
Rayn looked at Anterz. "She's testing you. The mirrors feed on fear. On uncertainty."
Anterz closed his eyes.
Breathed.
Then opened them.
"I am Anterz. Not the king. Not the weapon. Not the coward."
He stepped forward—and shattered his own reflection.
---
The mirrors rippled.
Then all shattered at once.
Sivrael didn't move.
Shards hovered in the air like a suspended storm.
She smiled.
"Good."
The platform cracked.
A spiral staircase formed beneath them, descending into liquid shadow.
Sivrael gestured.
"Then descend. The Tower's Heart waits. But beware, Ruin and Echo—my mirror is not the last gate. Below sleeps the oldest truth. And truths, like blades, cut both ways."
She stepped backward.
And vanished.
---
They began the descent.
The steps were narrow, spiraling into forever. The deeper they went, the quieter the world became. Sound thinned. Thought slowed.
Halfway down, Elaria stumbled.
Anterz caught her.
"I saw myself," she whispered. "Before the Fall. I wasn't just a keeper."
He waited.
"I was part of the core. A living anchor. I was a lock."
Rayn looked at her sharply.
"Then you're more than marked. You're a keystone."
Elaria shook. "They hid me. Broke me. Sent pieces of me into dreams so I could never be used again."
Anterz looked at her—really looked.
"You think the tower wants to reunite you?"
She nodded, pale.
"I think the Heart is built around what I used to be."
---
At the bottom of the stairs stood a door made of light.
Not glowing—burning. Every inch flickered with white fire, but gave no heat.
In front of it knelt another figure.
Massive. Armored in mirrored plates. Twin swords crossed on its back.
It did not move.
It did not breathe.
Rayn drew his new blade—shorter now, glass reforged into ice-steel.
Elaria gripped hers, eyes flaring.
Anterz stepped forward.
The kneeling knight looked up.
Its voice was not human.
> "You bear the sword."
Anterz nodded.
> "Then I am the Threshold."
It stood.
Fifteen feet tall.
Its twin swords burst into flame—one red, one white.
> "You may pass," it said. "If you can defeat the truth of balance."
Anterz looked at the others.
Then back to the knight.
"Let's end the lie, then."
---
It charged.
Faster than anything so large should move.
The red sword came first—Anterz blocked with Valteris, sparks flying. The white sword followed—Elaria parried, silver blade ringing like a bell.
Rayn darted to the side, slicing low—his blade bit into the knight's leg. Ice cracked. The armor hissed—but didn't break.
The knight spun.
One blow knocked Rayn off the platform.
He vanished into the dark below.
Elaria screamed—but had no time to react.
The knight struck again.
Anterz caught both blades on Valteris.
His knees buckled.
Valteris screamed.
> "This one was made from your twin. The Balance. The sword you never forged."
Anterz roared—and pushed back.
Flame met ruin.
Light met shadow.
And the door behind the knight began to open.
---
Rayn landed below—on another mirrored platform.
He coughed blood.
But smiled.
"Still alive."
Above, Anterz and Elaria stood panting, the Threshold Knight defeated—its body cracked, kneeling again.
The door of light was open.
And through it?
Only darkness.
---
They stepped through.
And the Tower's Heart opened around them.
At its center floated a crystal—black, cracked, and pulsing.
Inside it?
A sleeping figure.
Golden-eyed.
Sword in hand.
Anterz stared at it.
And whispered.
"…That's me."
---