The summons arrived before sunrise. A silver-sealed letter slid under the inn's door, its wax marked with a sigil Dillon didn't recognize — a crescent moon flanked by seven mirrored shards.
Chris broke the seal before anyone could stop him. "The Mirror Council requests your immediate presence in the Hall of Reflection," he read aloud. His voice dropped. "That… doesn't sound like a friendly invitation."
Talia, half-dressed in her leather armor, frowned. "The council runs Brackenreach. They're the closest thing this city has to rulers. If they've noticed you already, Dillon, it means you've made an impression — and not necessarily a good one."
Dillon's stomach churned. The events of the last two days — the Hunter's attack, his sudden shadow magic — had already been overwhelming. Now he was expected to face the city's most powerful figures?
The Hall of Reflection loomed over Brackenreach's central square, its white-marble walls carved with runes that shimmered faintly in the sunlight. Massive glass panes arched across its roof, refracting daylight into rainbows that spilled onto the cobblestone plaza. The beauty of the place was undeniable, but so was the tension that lingered in the air as they entered.
Inside, a circular chamber opened into tiers of silver benches. Each bench held a robed figure wearing a mask polished to a mirror sheen. No faces. No expressions. Dillon felt as though the room itself was staring at him from every direction.
A voice echoed through the hall, deep and resonant. "Dillon, son of Valeria of the Black Veil… and Nathaniel of the Dawnspire."
Gasps echoed from some of the council members. Others remained still, their mirrored faces revealing nothing.
"You walk in the light and shadow both," another voice said. "Such a thing should not be possible."
Chris muttered under his breath, "Here we go…"
The questioning began. They asked about his mother's magic, his father's holy bloodline, and the events outside the city gates. Dillon did his best to answer without giving away too much, but every word felt like it was being weighed, measured, and filed away for later use.
One masked figure leaned forward. "Your very existence threatens the delicate balance this kingdom relies upon. Holy priests and necromancers do not cross paths for a reason."
Another countered, "Or perhaps he is exactly what we need. A bridge between worlds, a weapon against the darkness beyond our borders."
The debate grew sharper, voices overlapping, some speaking of alliances, others of execution. Dillon felt heat rising in his chest — not from anger, but from something deeper, something he couldn't name.
Then, the central figure spoke. "The boy will be tested. Brackenreach will not harbor what it does not understand. Tomorrow, you will face the Trial of Blades. Survive, and you may yet earn our trust. Fail, and you will not leave this hall again."
The sound of a gavel striking stone sealed the decision. Guards escorted them out into the sunlight, the heavy doors shutting behind them with a final, echoing thud.
Zain was the first to speak. "Trial of Blades… That's not a duel, is it?"
Talia shook her head grimly. "No. It's a spectacle. The whole city will watch. And whatever they throw at you, Dillon… it won't be fair."
Dillon stared back at the Hall of Reflection, its pristine marble now feeling more like the cold edge of a blade pressed against his neck.
Tomorrow, he would step into the Trial — and into the gaze of a city that had already decided he was dangerous.
A/N:I'm gonna be introducing two if the side characters in the next Chap
So stay tuned till then 😜