The wind howled across the Ridge of Salt as silence fell in the aftermath of the ambush. The bodies of House Vaelith's soldiers lay strewn like broken puppets, blood pooling in the alabaster dust. Yet all of it felt distant to Kael. His entire focus rested on the girl—Selan—whose silver blood shimmered against her skin as if rejecting the very dirt of the world.
She extended the dagger to him again. "Take it. Your answer lies in reflection, Kael."
He hesitated. The blood on her palm had not dried. Instead, it danced, defying gravity, as if aware of him.
"What are you?" he asked.
"A Warden of the Mirrorborn Sigil. A dying line. I am the last," she said. "My oath is to protect the Vaults. To test the bearer of the Heart. You carry it now."
Lys stepped forward cautiously, the stormlight casting her cloak in shades of steel and dusk. "Kael, she could be lying. Illusion magic could mimic the orb's call."
"And yet," Selan said, not even glancing her way, "your blood reacts, does it not? You heard the whisper. You felt the mirror."
Kael frowned. The orb pulsed again beneath his coat.
"The Vaults were designed not just to protect knowledge, but to shape the vessel worthy of holding it," Selan continued. "You survived the Trial. That makes you... an echo. But not yet the voice."
"Then tell me," Kael demanded, stepping closer. "What is it that I'm meant to do?"
Selan lowered the dagger. "To judge. To witness the truth of what Eldrinthia was built upon. The six Great Virtues were born from sin, not righteousness. Their temples, their cathedrals—they stand upon sacrifice."
Kael's breath caught. He remembered the illusions in the vault—the children sacrificed, the chained figures in golden halls.
"That wasn't just illusion," he murmured.
"It was memory. The Vault preserves all things."
Nightfall at the Encampment.
They set camp far from the Ridge, in the ruins of an old watchtower swallowed by creeping vines and moonlight. The fire crackled. Kael sat with Selan across from him, Lys and the others watching her like cornered wolves.
Selan, however, seemed entirely at peace. She drew glyphs in the dust with the tip of her dagger, each one reflecting a memory Kael couldn't quite place but felt he knew.
"You said I was to judge Eldrinthia. What does that mean?"
She looked up. "It means you must see what lies beneath the Virtues. Clarity, Balance, Vigilance... Memory, Silence, Judgment. Each virtue is a mask. The people who built the temples wore them to hide the sins they committed."
"And the orb?"
"Is the Eye. A fragment of the first mind to see all. Its gaze is unflinching. It stores truths. Painful truths."
Kael clenched his hands. "So I carry the burden of history now?"
"You carry the choice to reveal it. Or destroy it."
Lys stirred. "You can't possibly be suggesting he tear down the temples. That would mean war."
"Not war," Selan said, her eyes gleaming. "Reckoning."
The Mirror Duel.
That night, Kael couldn't sleep. He walked into the old watchtower's upper chamber, the orb in his hand.
It pulsed once.
Twice.
Then his reflection in the shattered mirror beside him began to move.
Not mimic.
Move.
The reflection stepped out, solidifying into a perfect copy of Kael, only its eyes were starless voids.
"Who are you?" Kael whispered.
"I am what you fear becoming."
Kael drew his scythe.
The reflection did the same.
They clashed, steel on steel, blood against blood. The tower shook. The mirror cracked further with every blow.
Kael called on the blood in his satchel, spinning it into blades, chains, shields—but the reflection matched him. Perfectly.
Until Kael hesitated.
"Why do you fight?" the reflection asked.
Kael roared, driving the scythe into the reflection's heart. "Because I don't know if I want to be me."
The mirror shattered.
Kael collapsed, panting.
The orb was still. Quiet.
Selan's voice echoed from below.
"You are beginning to see."
Dawn.
Kael stood at the edge of the ruins as dawn broke. The storm had passed. Sunlight cast amber across the land. Selan joined him, a shawl of gray draped over her shoulders.
"You have seen your shadow. You survived. Few do."
Kael nodded slowly.
"We leave for Azkaris," he said. "The churches, the relics, the noble houses—if their power is built on lies, I need to see it myself."
Selan touched the orb. "Then you are ready."
Kael looked out over the horizon. His path was clearer now. No less dangerous. But clearer.
And in the distance, beyond the hills and forests, the towers of Azkaris waited—proud and silent.
Not for long.