mirrors
The Hall of Mirrors is even more unsettling than I expected.
The moment I step inside, the air changes. It’s cool, almost too cool, and the space stretches in every direction, lined with endless reflections. The walls are made of towering mirrors, their golden frames twisting into delicate, intricate patterns that seem to shift when I’m not looking. The floor is polished to a shine, making it feel like I’m walking on the surface of a still lake.
My own image stares back at me from all sides, dozens of Lilias watching with wary eyes. But there’s something off about them. Some move a fraction of a second too late, others seem to be standing at slightly different angles than me. It’s like the room is trying to decide which version of me is real.
Cardan steps beside me, and his reflections multiply just the same. He glances around, I can feel the shift in the air, he’s wary too, even if he won’t admit it.
As we move deeper into the room, my eyes catch on a single reflection. Not too far away, one of my mirrored selves doesn’t just mimic my movements, it smiles. A slow, knowing smile that I am absolutely certain I am not making.
My stomach knots.
It’s inviting me, beckoning with a tilt of the head, as if it knows something I don’t. As if it wants me to step closer.
A cold prickle creeps up my spine.
I slow my pace, instinctively drawing nearer to Cardan.
“What do you see?”
I ask, my voice quieter than I intend.
“Reflections. Nothing special.”
he says, but the way his gaze flickers across the room betrays him.
I notice that his reflections remain unchanged. Perfectly still when he is. A flaw in the illusion. Maybe this place only alters what we ourselves perceive. The thought does nothing to ease my unease.
We keep walking, the sound of our footsteps swallowed by the eerie hush of the chamber. Every mirrored version of myself watches, their gazes pressing against my skin like a tangible weight. I have the absurd feeling that if I turn my back, they’ll keep moving without me.
“Have you been here before?”
I ask, needing the distraction.
“Only once.”
His answer is short, clipped, with an edge that warns me not to push further.
Fine. I won’t.
“Has the image on the scroll changed?” I ask instead.
He pulls it out, unfolding the parchment carefully. His golden eyes flick over it before he shakes his head.
“It’s the same as before.”
So we have no choice but to go deeper.
As we step deeper into the room, a movement in the mirrors catches my attention.
At first, I think it’s just another one of my reflections, but this one is different. She looks frightened.
Before I can process it, she moves darting between two mirrors, her form flickering as though she’s slipping between worlds. Then she stops, turning her back to me. A chill settles in my bones.
I take a hesitant step forward. The air feels heavier here, charged.
My reflection—or whatever it is—doesn’t turn. She remains motionless, her shoulders tense. But then, slowly, her head lifts, her gaze shifting to the right as if drawn to something.
I follow her line of sight—and freeze.
Another figure is moving toward her.
Cardan.
Or rather, his reflection.
My breath catches as he reaches out, his hand cupping her face with an unbearable tenderness. She shudders under his touch, her eyes slipping shut as she leans into it. The scene feels private, intimate.
Then, without hesitation, he pulls her closer.
And kisses her. Passionate. Unrestrained.
My chest tightens, my pulse roaring in my ears. My own reflection stares back at me in another mirror, wide-eyed and stunned, mirroring my shock.
“Do you see it too?”
I murmur, turning toward Cardan.
But there’s no one beside me.
My stomach drops.
I whirl around, expecting to find him just a step behind, but all I see is my own reflection moving with my same frantic urgency.
I am alone.
A ripple of dread crawls up my spine.
“Cardan?”
My voice is tight, laced with unease.
No answer.
I swallow hard, scanning the endless reflections around me.
“Cardan?”
I call again, louder this time. The sound echoes unnaturally, bouncing back at me from a hundred different angles.
The mirrors tricked me. They let me believe he was still beside me. How long has he been gone?
A terrible silence presses against me.
I turn back to the reflection of the two figures, heart hammering against my ribs.
They are now dancing.
The way they move is hypnotic, spinning together in a slow, intimate waltz. Their bodies are close, their gazes locked with something deep, something raw and real. The way he looks at her, like nothing else exists, sends a strange, unbearable ache through me. It’s unsettling, seeing this version of him, this version of us, so raw and unguarded.
The two figures move in perfect harmony, lost in their own world. He spins her in a pirouette, the fabric of her green dress billowing like the petals of a flower in bloom. When he catches her, he brings her close, their bodies pressing together in a way that seems effortless, inevitable. Then he spins her again.
But this time, she doesn’t return to him.
She keeps spinning, her movement carrying her further and further away. She twirls toward another mirror, her body slowing with each rotation, like a wind-up toy losing its momentum. Her feet falter, and she comes to a stop. Breathless, spent, alone.
And then she lifts her gaze to me.
Her expression has changed. The joy she held mere moments ago is gone, erased so completely that it’s as if it never existed at all. Her eyes are dull now, hollow, empty of the light they once carried.
A lump forms in my throat.
She turns her head, her gaze now shifting to the left. This time, her eyes are filled with something else. Pain.
In the mirrors not too far away, two new figures emerge. A man and a woman. Their pace is slow, their gazes impossibly soft as they approach her. As they approach me.
Something about them feels different. They do not move with the unnatural fluidity of the other reflections. They don’t shimmer or flicker like illusions. They feel real. I glance back at my reflection—at her.
Her clothes have changed. No longer does she wear what I am wearing now. Instead, she is dressed in something simple, jeans and a soft sweatshirt, like the ones I’ve seen in the magazines Jude sometimes brings me.
The two figures reach her. She stares up at them, hesitant at first, as if she can’t believe they are real. And then, with a sudden, desperate motion, she throws herself into their arms.
They embrace her without hesitation. The woman cradles her head, fingers stroking through her hair with infinite tenderness. The man presses a hand to her back, his touch warm, grounding. A soft, quiet comfort.
And as they hold her, something happens. She shrinks.
The girl in the mirror grows smaller beneath their touch, her frame becoming delicate, fragile, until she is no longer me as I am now, but a child. A little girl, clinging to them as if she belongs there.
A tear slips down my cheek, lump rises in my throat, thick and aching.
Those are my parents.
This is a reflection of something that will never be. A glimpse of the life I could have had.
The man lifts the little girl effortlessly into his arms, and she clings to him, burying her face in his shoulder like she never wants to let go. The woman smiles, brushing strands of hair from the child’s face, tucking them behind her ear with a tenderness that makes something inside me splinter.
They are both looking at me now, smiling. Their expressions soft and inviting, as if they’re waiting for me to join them.
A sharp, unbearable pain blooms in my chest, deep and suffocating. It’s not the sharp stab of a wound but something worse. Heavier. A grief so vast it threatens to swallow me whole.
I take a step forward, reaching out without thinking, drawn to them like a moth to flame. My fingers tremble as they extend toward the mirror, desperate to make contact, to feel something, anything—
But the image shifts. The figures blur, their forms dissolving like ink bleeding into water. Their warmth vanishes in an instant, swallowed by the cold, hard surface of the glass.
And suddenly, it’s just me again, only my own reflection remains, staring back at me.
She looks… haunted, lost, broken.
Her lips are parted as if she had been about to speak, but no words had come. Her eyes red-rimmed, wide with fear and confusion, look like they belong to someone else.
I swallow hard, forcing myself to breathe. This isn’t real. It’s just an illusion. A trick of the mirrors.
But the longer I stand here, the less sure I am. The room feels smaller now, the reflections pressing in from all sides, too many versions of myself watching, waiting. The air is thick, suffocating.
I take a shaky step back, my hands curling into fists. Find Cardan. Find a way out. I repeat it like a mantra, clinging to the thought, to something solid, something real.
I blink rapidly, willing the tears away, and turn sharply.
"Cardan?"
My voice is hoarse
No answer.
I walk forward, my eyes scanning the mirrors, but he’s not in any of them. A prickle of unease creeps up my spine. The room is endless reflections, but none of them show him. It’s as if he’s vanished, swallowed by the maze of glass and light.
"Cardan!"
My voice echoes, bouncing off the mirrored walls, but it’s swallowed by the shifting silence.
Panic coils in my stomach, tightening like a vice. My footsteps loud and frantic, each one echoing as if there are a hundred versions of me moving at once, all staring at me with wide, fearful eyes. I turn corner after corner, stepping toward one mirror, then another, hoping to catch a glimpse of him. But all I see are endless reflections of myself, each one more desperate than the last.
Then, finally, I see him.
In the glass ahead, he stands still, his back to me, his head tilted slightly downward. His usual lazy arrogance is missing. Something about his posture is off, tense, almost rigid. My breath catches, and I take a step closer.
"Cardan?"
I call out, my voice trembling.
He doesn’t move. He doesn’t even seem to notice me.
I reach out
"What are you—"
My fingers brush against the cool surface of the mirror, the moment my hand touches the glass, I realize my mistake. It’s another illusion. I quickly pull my hand back, my heart pounding.
Then, slowly, he lifts his head, just slightly, and I freeze.
Because the Cardan in the mirror isn’t the one I know. His face is hard, his expression full of hatred, his golden eyes burning with a cold, dangerous intensity. It’s as if he wants to hurt me, as if he’s waiting for the right moment to strike. The room around me darkens, the light fading until every mirror is blank, empty, except for the one in front of me. The figure in the glass steps closer, his movements deliberate, menacing.
I stumble back, my breath coming in short, panicked gasps. The figure moves again, and it looks like he’s coming out of the reflection, his form growing larger, more real. I turn and run, my feet slamming against the floor as I sprint in the opposite direction. Panic claws at my chest, my mind screaming at me to get out, to escape.
I reach a fork in the mirrored hall, two possible paths stretching out before me. I take the left without thinking, my legs burning as I push myself to run faster. I glance back, and the figure is still there, moving from mirror to mirror, his shadowy form fluid and relentless.
"It’s not real, it’s not real"
I whisper to myself, my voice shaking. But the sound of footsteps behind me, real or imagined, sends a fresh wave of terror through me. My body moves on its own, driven by instinct, searching for a way out.
I’m out of breath, my lungs burning, but it feels like I’m not getting anywhere. The mirrors stretch on endlessly, trapping me in a nightmare I can’t wake up from. I look back again, and the figure has transformed into a dark, shapeless shadow, moving faster now, closing the distance between us.
I turn a corner and slam into something solid. Hands grab me, and I scream, struggling wildly, trying to defend myself. I twist and pull, but the grip on my arms is firm, unyielding.
"Lilia!"
Cardan’s voice cuts through the panic, sharp and urgent.
I look up at him, my chest heaving, my mind racing. Is he real? Or is this just another trick of the mirrors? My heart pounds so loudly I can barely think. I try to struggle again, to break free, but he pulls me to his chest, one hand tangling in my hair, the other pressing firmly against my back.
I feel his heartbeat, steady and strong, against my cheek. His scent, spice and something faintly metallic, fills my senses. He’s real. He’s here. Slowly, my labored breathing begins to calm, the panic ebbing away as I focus on the solidness of him, the warmth of his body against mine.
I squeeze my eyes shut, pressing my face against his chest as I try to steady my breath. My hands clutch the fabric of his shirt like a lifeline. His grip is firm but not restraining—just enough to ground me.
"It’s real"
I whisper, half to myself, half to him.
"You’re real."
His voice is quieter than usual, lacking its usual lilt.
"I am."
I don’t move right away. I can’t. The panic still clings to me, the image of that dark, twisted version of him burned into my mind. That look of pure hatred, of something cruel waiting to strike. I shudder, and his hold tightens just a fraction, his hand pressing more firmly against my back.
"What happened?"
he asks, his tone uncharacteristically serious.
I shake my head, unable to form the words just yet. If I say it out loud, it might feel more real. I pull away slightly, just enough to look at him, searching his face for any trace of that dark version I saw in the mirror. I know he doesn’t like me, he’s made that abundantly clear, but there’s a small, fragile part of me that hopes he doesn’t hate me to the point of wanting to hurt me. But what if that version of him was the real one, and this one, the one holding me now, is just a facade?
He watches me just as intently, his eyes scanning my face, as if he’s trying to piece together what I’m thinking.
"What did you see?"
he murmurs, his voice low and steady.
"You"
I admit, my voice still shaky.
"I saw… you. It looked like—like you wanted to kill me."
His brows draw together, his lips parting slightly. He doesn’t laugh, doesn’t make a joke out of it. That unsettles me more than anything. Cardan always has a quip, a smirk, something to deflect. But now, he’s silent.
Then, carefully, he lifts a hand, brushing a lock of my hair away from my face. His touch is surprisingly gentle, his fingers lingering for a moment before he pulls back.
"But I’m here"
he says, his voice softer than I’ve ever heard it.
"And I don’t want to kill you."
I exhale a shaky breath, my shoulders relaxing just slightly.
"Debatable."
That finally earns me a smirk, small but present.
"Well, if I wanted to, I’d hardly need an illusion to do it, would I?"
The fear gripping my chest loosens just a fraction, though his words aren’t exactly comforting.
"That’s not as reassuring as you might think it is."
He huffs out a quiet laugh, but it fades quickly. His hand strokes my hair again, his touch almost absentminded, as if he’s not entirely aware he’s doing it.
"This place plays tricks on people"
he says, his gaze flicking toward the endless mirrors surrounding us.
"It shows things meant to unsettle you."
Well, it worked.
I exhale, my hands still clutching his shirt.
"Did you see anything?"
For a second, I think he won’t answer. His gaze shifts away from me, toward the mirrors, and I can see the faintest flicker of something in his eyes.
"Nothing I didn’t already know."
It’s the way he says it, offhand, but a little too casual...that makes my stomach tighten. There’s weight behind those words, a depth I can’t quite grasp.
I look at our reflections in the mirrors around us, and there’s something almost foreign about what I see. Cardan’s posture is relaxed, but his arm is wrapped around me in a way that feels almost protective.
It’s strange, seeing him like this, like he actually cares, even if it’s just for show. He can’t lie, but he’s really good at pretending that my mere presence doesn’t bother him.
My reflection smiles at me, her expression soft and content hugging him closer to her, as if she’s perfectly at ease in his arms. She leans into him, whispering something in his ear, her movements slow and deliberate. She seems different from me. confident, alluring, almost sensual in the way she carries herself.
I look away quickly and step out of Cardan’s hold.
"We should get out of here"
I say, my voice firm but my eyes fixed on the ground.
He looks at me, his expression is as if he wasn’t expecting my sudden outburst.
"Yes"
he says simply, his tone neutral.
I glance back at the mirrors one last time, and the reflection of me is still there, waving at me with a smirk on her face. She winks, as if she’s teasing me, and I feel a fresh wave of unease.
Cardan reaches out and takes my hand, his grip strong but not squeezing, his skin surprisingly soft against mine. He starts walking, his pace fast and sure, as if he knows exactly where to go. I follow him, his confidence is kind of reassuring. He navigates the maze of mirrors with ease, and before I know it, we’re stepping through the large door we entered from.
The moment we’re out, I feel like I can breathe again. The oppressive weight of the Hall of Mirrors lifts, and I’m left with nothing but the lingering memory of what I saw. I don’t want to see another mirror for a long, long time.
We walk down the halls in silence, the tension between us palpable but unspoken. Eventually, we reach a small courtyard where other students are gathered, some looking frustrated, others laughing as they try to decipher their clues. A few glance at us as we approach, their expressions curious, and I realize with a start that Cardan and I are still holding hands.
"Is that Lili?"
I quickly pull my hand away, my cheeks flushing, just as Taryn’s voice cuts through the air.
I turn to see her approaching, her eyes widening slightly when she notices Cardan. She bows to him quickly, her movements stiff and formal, before turning her attention back to me. Cardan doesn’t seem to care, walking away to sit on a stone bench not too far away, the scroll still in his hand.
It’s a relief to see Taryn, someone familiar after the turmoil I just went through.
"How’s it going?"
I ask her, forcing a smile and hoping she doesn’t notice how shaken I am.
"We’ve only found one item so far"
she says, her voice tinged with disappointment. Item? Does the fork in the cake count as an item to find? I don’t ask.
"And my… partner… isn’t very cooperative"
she adds, lowering her voice.
She glances over her shoulder at Lion, one of my classmates. He’s a boy with beige skin, curly white-blonde hair, and small horns on his head. He’s standing awkwardly a few feet away, his eyes darting toward Cardan, who’s sitting on the bench, studying the scroll as if nothing else in the world exists.
I watch as Lion cautiously approaches Cardan, his movements hesitant. He stands in front of him, clearly waiting for some kind of acknowledgment, but Cardan doesn’t even look up. Either he doesn’t notice, or he doesn’t care.
I didn’t know Lion was a fan of Cardan—not that I would know, since he’s never spoken to me during class.
"Good luck to him"
I say, turning back to Taryn.
"How’s it going for you?"
she asks, her voice tinged with concern.
"Did he take it out on you?"
"It’s… going"
I say, struggling to find the words to describe everything that’s happened so far.
"The problem is these damn clues. It’s like they’re designed to sabotage me"
I add, my frustration bubbling to the surface.
"Yeah, they’re pretty weird" Taryn agrees.
"Just now, we had to jump rope together on the hill in front of everyone. It was extremely embarrassing."
I let out a light laugh, the tension in my chest easing slightly.
"We had to eat cake"
I tell her, leaving out the other… details.
"I’m really jealous"
she says, grinning.
"I would’ve definitely preferred eating cake to sweating."
A sudden noise catches our attention, and we both turn to see Lion on the ground, his face red with embarrassment. Cardan is still sitting on the stone bench, his legs crossed, looking at Lion with complete indifference. It doesn’t look good.
We approach cautiously, and I kneel down to help Lion up. Taryn joins me, her hands steady as she supports him.
"Are you okay?"
Taryn asks him, her voice gentle.
He nods a little too insistently, his eyes darting toward Cardan before he bows slightly and hurries away, his movements stiff and awkward. Taryn looks at me, confused, before saying "See you later" and following him.
I turn to Cardan, who’s still sitting on the bench, a barely visible smile playing on his lips.
"What?"
he asks, his tone light but his eyes sharp.
"Do you ever go five minutes without tormenting someone?"
I ask, my tone strangely calm, though my patience is wearing thin.
Cardan tilts his head, regarding me with infuriating amusement.
"I suppose I could"
he says, his voice light
"but where would be the fun in that?"
"Was there a reason to push him now?"
I say, glancing toward where Lion had been sprawled on the ground moments ago.
He leans back against the bench, stretching his arms lazily over the backrest.
"Me?"
he says, his tone dripping with mock innocence.
"He merely decided that lying on the ground was the best course of action after speaking to me."
His dark eyes gleam with something close to mischief.
"Perhaps he was simply overwhelmed by my presence."
I narrow my eyes, muttering under my breath
"Or terrified."
"Ah"
he muses, tapping a finger against his lips as if deep in thought.
"Is there truly a difference?"
I exhale sharply, my frustration bubbling to the surface.
"Not really."
He grins, as if I’ve just paid him a compliment.
"Must feel great not to be in my crosshairs."
I glare at him, my hands clenching into fists at my sides.
"You mean you’ve never tried to pick on me?"
He smiles deviously, his eyes glinting with mischief.
"You can’t lie"
I say, mimicking his ridiculous smile.
"There’s a new clue"
he says, smoothly changing the subject. He holds up the scroll, his expression shifting to one of mock seriousness.
I move closer to see it from his hands, but before I can get a good look, he grabs me and pulls me onto his lap. I yelp, trying to wiggle free, but his grip is firm. My face flushes as I glance around, hoping no one is watching. He’s got to stop catching me off guard like this, dammit.
"What the hell are you doing?"
I snap, my voice clearly irritated.
"I thought you wanted to read"
he says quietly, his face the picture of innocence. His tone is so casual, so infuriatingly calm, that it only makes me angrier.
I glare at him, my cheeks flaming.
"I can read just fine from over there"
I say, trying to push myself off his lap.
But he doesn’t let go. Instead, he leans in slightly, his breath warm against my ear.
"Relax, Lili"
he murmurs, his voice low and teasing.
Hearing my nickname, the one only people close to me use, has a strange effect. Though I’m not sure if it’s from annoyance or something else entirely.
"What’s up with you tonight?"
I ask him, my voice tight.
"It’s just a clue"
he replies, his tone light but his eyes sharp.
"No need to make a scene."
He brings the parchment in front of me, holding it up so I can see.
I glance at the scroll, my mind racing, but it’s hard to focus with him this close. His arm is still around me, his body warm against mine, and I can feel the steady rise and fall of his chest with each breath. It’s maddening.
The new clue is simple, but it sends a fresh wave of unease through me. It’s an image of two figures standing close together, their hands intertwined, their faces turned toward each other. Below it, the words: "The truth lies in the reflection."
I swallow hard, my stomach twisting. What kind of twisted treasure hunt is this?
“Not the reflections again”
I say with a ragged breath, my voice tinged with frustration.
I hear Cardan laugh softly, his body vibrating against mine. The sound is low and warm, and it sends an unexpected shiver down my spine. I turn to look at him, and from my position, slightly higher now that I’m perched on his lap, I notice details I hadn’t before. His hair looks impossibly soft, the dark strands catching the light, and the crown of golden leaves on his head glimmers faintly, as if it’s alive. His face is relaxed, his smirk softer than usual, and from here, he looks… approachable.
He meets my gaze, his eyes wandering over my face before lingering on my lips.
My breath catches, and I quickly whip my head around, clearing my throat.
What’s wrong with me? Why am I letting him get to me like this?
"Taryn told me they found an object"
I say, my voice a little too loud, a little too rushed. I’m staring at the scroll, not because I’m particularly interested in it, but because I don’t know where else to look.
"I didn’t think there were more pieces to put together, but if so, we’re missing something."
Cardan hums thoughtfully, his arm still loosely draped around me.
"Like this?"
He reaches into his pocket and pulls out an object, holding it up for me to see.
I blink, my focus shifting from the scroll to the small, delicate item in his hand. It’s a golden key, intricately designed with tiny leaves and vines etched into its surface.
I stare at it.
"Where did you get that?"
I ask, my voice curious as I eye the golden key in his hand.
"In the hall of mirrors"
he says, his tone casual, as if it’s no big deal.
I blink at him, my frustration warring with a strange sense of relief.
"You’ve had it this whole time?"
I ask, my voice rising slightly.
"And you didn’t think to mention it?"
He tilts his head, his expression infuriatingly charming.
"You didn’t ask"
He leans in slightly, his voice dropping to a low murmur.
"Besides"
he says, his breath warm against my ear
"where’s the fun in spoiling it?"
I glare at him, my cheeks flushing, but before I can retort, he shifts the tone, his voice turning serious.
"Now"
he says
"did you manage to interpret the clue?"
“I did”
“And?”
I don’t like his calm approach, the way he seems to enjoy putting me in difficult situations a little too much. But this time, I remember Jude's words and decide to play his game.
I lean in dangerously close to his face, my lips almost brushing his ear. His body goes still, his breath catching ever so slightly. I can feel the tension in him, the way his grip on the scroll tightens.
"Where’s the fun in spoiling it?"
I whisper, my voice low and teasing. I pull back just enough to meet his gaze, his eyes wide with surprise, his lips parted slightly. For once, he’s the one caught off guard.
He lets out a heavy sigh, his expression a mix of something I can't decipher, something that makes my stomach flutter. I’m not sure if this was the reaction I wanted, but I’m still satisfied.
I get up from his lap, the warmth of his body lingering as I step away.
I turn to him, walking backward as I hold up the key, now in my hands. A mischievous smile plays on my lips.
"Thanks for this"
I say, my tone light but my eyes challenging.
He’s still sitting on the bench, the parchment in his hand, his expression shifting from surprise. There’s a flicker of amusement in his eyes, too, as if he’s impressed.
He stands up, his movements slow and deliberate, and starts walking toward me.
I keep walking backward, my heart pounding, but I don’t let my smile falter. This time, I’m the one in control. And for once, Cardan is the one chasing me.