As we move toward our chamber, Astrid appears from the crowd of advisors. She pulls me into a quick, fierce hug.
“Remember what Lord Evander said,” she whispers against my ear. “You’re the structure. The glue. Let them be what they are.”
She pulls back, squeezes my hands once, then steps away before I can respond.
The strategy chamber room is rectangular, with a table in the centre and tactical displays on the walls showing schematics of the Fractured Mirror.
My team arranges themselves around the table. Lord Castor sprawls in his chair but his attention is focused. Lord Evander sits with perfect posture, already studying the displays. Lady Nerida stands, her ocean eyes distant.
I take my seat and force my voice steady. “We have thirty minutes to establish a strategy. The maze responds to emotional states, which means staying calm and focused will be essential.”
“The mirror shows not what is false, but what we fear is true,” Lady Nerida adds.
Lord Evander nods. “Which is why we need protocols – ways to identify if what we are seeing is real or illusion.”
I lean forward, feeling more grounded than I have in days. “Then we need to be honest with each other about our fears. Not now, necessarily, but if someone starts getting lost in what the mirrors show, the others need to be able to call them back.”
“Formation,” Lord Castor says. “We never split the group. If the maze tries to separate us, we resist.”
“Good,” I say. “Lord Evander, you map the structure. Lord Castor, you keep us together and moving at the right pace. Lady Nerida, you watch for any manipulations the mirror might throw at us.”
They nod, falling into their roles without resistance.
We spend the next twenty minutes establishing ways to verify identities if the maze creates duplicates, protocols for when the manipulation becomes overwhelming. Lord Evander maps out the maze’s known variables, identifying historical patterns. Lord Castor suggests tactical formations for different corridor widths and blockages. Lady Nerida contributes observations about how fear and emotions flows, where mind tricks could be used.
I hold them together. Not by dominating, but by listening, integrating, adjusting. Being flexible while maintaining direction. This is what Lord Evander meant. I don’t need all the answers. I just need to keep the system aligned.
And for the first time, I feel like I can.
A chime sounds. Time’s up.
We file out. Team Two emerges from their chamber looking confident, energized. Zevran glances in my direction, concern flashing across his face before he masks it.
Ren’s hand settles briefly on my shoulder. “Focus. They’re not your concern right now.”
She’s right. I straighten my spine and turn toward our entrance.
The Fractured Mirror rises before us like something out of a nightmare.
Walls of dark metal and crystalline glass stretch impossibly high. The surface is fractured into thousands of pieces, each one reflecting different angles, different versions of reality. Some reflections move independently of their sources.
The entrance yawns open before us, dark and foreboding – a door made entirely of cracked mirror shards and jagged edges.
Cardinal Benedict’s voice rings out. “The Fractured Mirror will test not just your courage, but your willingness to confront truths you may prefer to keep hidden. Trust your team. Trust yourselves.”
A horn sounds, deep and resonant.
“Let the second trial begin.”
Lord Castor moves to my left, Lord Evander to my right. Lady Nerida takes position behind us. We form a diamond, close enough to maintain contact.
Ren stays behind at the entrance, watching. I can feel her gaze on my back.
As we cross the threshold, the light changes. The walls pulse with faint luminescence.
Behind us, the entrance seals.
The trial has begun.
