Minerva stepped through the ice archway. Immediately, she felt something was wrong. The air pushed against her skin like a heavy weight. It was thick with essence that made breathing hard. She turned to speak to Naviga. She wanted to warn her about the strange feeling. But her maid was not there. The space behind her showed only endless ice mirrors. They reflected her own image back at her from impossible angles.
"Naviga?" Minerva called out. Her voice sounded muffled and distant even to her own ears. "Where are you?"
No answer came. The room swallowed her words completely. Only a heavy silence remained. It was broken by the faint sound of her own breathing. Minerva held Scorching Tyrant tighter. She pushed her fire essence into the blade. The familiar warmth steadied her racing heart. It gave her an anchor against the creeping worry.
