LightReader

Chapter 10 - Shattered Reflections

The silence in the corridor beyond the throne felt alive.

Elias stepped into the narrow passage as the stone behind him shut with a hiss of finality. It wasn't a door. It was a seal. And it left behind a silence that felt more like suffocation than peace.

The hallway was lit only by flickering blue torches, embedded directly into the walls. Their flames didn't burn. They pulsed, slow and rhythmic, like a heartbeat. The walls were tight and uneven, etched with ancient script half-erased by time and frost. Some parts shimmered faintly under the torchlight while others seemed to recoil.

He moved slowly. The floor dipped unpredictably. Sometimes the corridor veered left or right without warning. Sometimes it split, and then curled back to itself, a labyrinth that felt sentient. Not constructed, but grown.

The System's voice had faded into complete stillness.

Elias swallowed, placing one hand against the cold wall. It felt like walking through someone's memory – half-rotted, yet still bitterly alive. Faces flickered across the stone, some erased, others scratched out violently. Murals depicted celestial wars, falling stars, and towering beings made of light and shadow.

One caught his eye: a figure standing atop a mountain, arms outstretched, splitting the sky above with golden lines. His face was smudged beyond recognition, but something about the posture – the agony or triumph in it – felt disturbingly familiar.

Elias turned away.

After minutes, or hours, he reached a wider hall.

The underground corridor stretched far beneath the castle, and Elias soon realized its scale. This was not just a tunnel, it was a massive subterranean passageway, its roots extending into each corner of the throne room above. As he traced the length of the hallway, he saw smaller, spiraling passages that rose towards each of the twelve council seats.

It clicked.

This network was connected to each of the ministers who had been stabbed. An escape path? A secret meeting route?

"A passage for the betrayal," Elias muttered.

The stone beneath his feet as marked with dried trails of what might once have been blood. Dust clung to old cloaks and scattered, forgotten insignias. He moved cautiously.

Further down, the path split again. One passage curved into a dimly lit, ornate chamber with a large canopy bed and shelves lines with books and scrolls. A concealed stone panel, disguised as part of the wall, had clearly served as a hidden entryway. Elias slipped through and found himself in what could only be described as a sanctum of authority.

The walls were decorated with faded crests, sigils similar to those in the main throne room, and above the desk was a shattered family crest. The ceiling was high, vaulted with wooden beams, and the room smelled faintly of aged parchment and cold iron. A polished desk sat against the far wall. Its drawers were sealed with wax. The bed was a mess but regal and crowned with dark velvet. This was undoubtedly the King's bedroom.

He left quietly, the silence pressing tighter.

Across the hall was another door. It was smaller, but gilded. When Elias opened it, he found a chamber wrapped in faded pink and gold.

Not as large. But deeply personal.

The air inside was different. Soft, dust-laced, yet filled with a scent darker than expected. It was not rot, but something that clung to the air like old perfume gone rancid. There was a sweetness to it, floral perhaps, but overripe. Familiar. Like the monster's breath before it died.

The room itself was large, with arched windows sealed by thick curtains. Though aged, its design still held traces of grace. The floor was tiled in a fading mosaic pattern – petals spiraling outward from the center.

A bed sat near the center whose frame ornate but warped by time. The blanket that had once been lilac had now turned grey. On a nearby chair lay the remnants of a cloak – embroidered with a family crest.

He stood silently, taking it all in. The room didn't feel abandoned. It felt… interrupted. Like someone had just stepped out and never returned.

His gaze landed on the mirror.

It was… untouched.

Unlike the room around it, the mirror atop the vanity was spotless. No dust, no crack, not a single blemish.

Something about it chilled him.

He stepped towards it.

For a moment, all he saw was stone behind him. No reflection.

Nothing.

But as he stared deeper, something began to shift. Faintly. Subtly. As though the glass wasn't reflecting… but revealing.

A figure.

It took shape gradually, outlines forming.

It was… him.

No mistaking it. No tricks. No illusions.

Just… himself.

He let out a short, shaky breath of relief. Relief that it wasn't a ghost, or a monster. It was only him.

He turned slightly, chuckling under his breath. "It's just a mirror," he muttered.

Then –

Crack.

A hairline fracture splintered outward from the very center of the glass like a wound blooming from within.

Cautiously, Elias raised his hand to investigate the crack.

The surface pulsed.

And then, he was pulled in.

He was drawn in, as if his own reflection reached out and swallowed him.

The world twisted.

The cold stone vanished.

Colors blurred.

Voices screamed.

Then, it was silence.

Elias collapsed, coughing and heaving. The ground beneath him was soft. Velvet. His stomach churned from the unnatural shift. He doubled over, puking on the floor.

His hands gripped the polished tile. He blinked rapidly, breath coming in ragged gasps.

The air… wasn't stale anymore.

It was warm and fragrant. Like sweet oils soaked into velvet walls. A faint breeze stirred the silk curtains at the edge of the room, letting the scent drift like memory.

Elias coughed, retching bile from his throat as he tried to calm his senses. The stone floor beneath him had vanished. Now, it was soft, carpeted and velve.t His trembling hand brushed against the gold-threaded embroidery of the carpet.

He sat up slowly, breathing in shallow, uneven gasps. His chest burned. His head spun.

He was in the same room. But not the same time.

Everything had changed.

The furniture stood unbroken. The shattered glass was whole again. The once-gray lilac blankets were vibrant once more.

Sunlight spilled in through a stained-glass arch above. It painted the floor in soft hues of violet and rose. A golden chandelier swayed gently overhead. Its crystals glittered like stars.

The scent clung to everything. Rosewater and lavender… and something deeper underneath – something Elias couldn't understand. And then he saw someone.

A girl.

She lay beneath silken covers, curled gently in sleep. Her hair spilled like liquid gold across the pillow. One hand rested near her cheek, the other curled at her chest. There was a delicate furrow in her brow.

But as Elias watched, the tension deepened.

Her fingers twitched. Her breathing quickened.

A soft, broken whimper escaped her lips, barely audible.

Then she flinched.

Her body jerked suddenly, like something had grabbed her from within.

"…Please… don't go…"

The room held its breath.

Elias took an unconscious step forward. The urge to reach out, to wake her, to protect her… He was filled with these emotions before he even understood why.

He took a step forward, holding his breath.

The mirror in the room caught his eye.

It was the same mirror which had brought him here. It stood tall above the vanity. It was perfect. No dust, no cracks, no distortions.

When Elias looked into it, he saw… himself. Just… himself.

He exhaled. Shaky. Almost laughed.

"It's just a mirror… geez…" he whispered. "Just a –"

Crack.

A tiny fracture split across the lower half of the mirror. Hairline. Almost invisible.

Elias flinched.

He didn't know why, but his pulse spiked. Something deep in his bones recoiled.

But before he could pull away –

She stirred.

His gaze snapped to her as she shifted under the covers, eyelids fluttering.

Her eyes opened.

Hazel. Piercing. Ancient, somehow.

She blinked – once, twice – and then her expression twisted into something between confusion and fear.

Her mouth opened, and she screamed.

It was high. Loud.

The door slammed open.

Metal boots. Shouts. Flashing silver. Halberds. Armor.

"You! Who are you! Get away!"

"Drop your weapon!"

Elias stumbled backward. "Wait – wait! I –!"

He barely raised his hands before two guards slammed into him from either side. A fist cracked against his jaw. The floor spun. Another blow. His ribs. The tile.

The girl's scream faded.

Then, darkness.

And silence.

More Chapters