Chapter 158: The Trial (17)
Of course! Here’s the 700-word continuation:
As they reached the top of the staircase, the floor unfurled like a woven tapestry—soft beneath their feet but shimmering with constellations. The moment Verena stepped forward, the stars shifted. They spiraled, arranging themselves into symbols above a massive archway. Each glyph glowed with a different hue, dancing with faint pulses like breathing light.
"Welcome to the Hall of Reflections," a voice echoed. Not from above, but from everywhere.
A gust of wind parted the fog, revealing a grand chamber ahead—its walls made entirely of mirrors. No two reflected the same thing. One showed Verena standing alone in a bloodied battlefield. Another displayed her smiling beneath a cherry tree, surrounded by faceless companions. One even showed her asleep, curled beside... was that Sera?
"Oh gods," she muttered, stepping back instinctively.
"I don’t like this place," Vivienne said, voice soft as she clutched her arm. "It feels like we’re being... watched."
"Not watched," Isolde muttered, glaring into a mirror. "Judged."
As they walked deeper, the chamber seemed to respond. The path behind them vanished with every step forward. Illusions flickered across the mirrors—glimpses of failure, of past mistakes, of memories both real and fabricated. Verena paused at one that showed her breaking down alone, crying in a rain-soaked alley.
"That never happened," she muttered.
"Are you sure?" the mirror replied.
Her heart stopped. The mirror had spoken with her voice.