Chapter 2
The passage narrows as Gigi and Cecilia step further into the labyrinth, the air growing heavy with dampness and an almost oppressive silence. Gigi clutches the newly retrieved key in her palm, its warmth contrasting sharply with the icy chill of her surroundings. She can feel Cecilia’s presence just a step ahead, her tall, poised frame cutting through the shadows like a blade.
Despite everything—the storm, the previous trial, the constant tension between them—Cecilia’s unwavering confidence remains a constant, and it grates on Gigi more than she’s willing to admit.
“How much farther, do you think?” Gigi’s voice wavers in the stillness, sounding small and uncertain to her own ears.
Cecilia doesn’t turn around. “Hard to say.”
Gigi quickens her pace to keep up. “Right. Great. Love that we’re flying blind here.”
Cecilia glances at her out of the corner of her eye, but doesn’t respond.
The corridor abruptly widens, opening into a vast, circular chamber. The walls shimmer faintly, their surfaces reflecting the dim torchlight in distorted, uneven waves. Gigi’s breath catches as she realises what they’re surrounded by.
“Mirrors,” she murmurs, stepping cautiously into the room.
The walls are entirely covered in mirrors of varying sizes, their frames ornate and weathered, their glass surfaces faintly rippling, as if they’re alive. The air feels warmer here, but it’s a suffocating kind of warmth, the kind that presses down on her chest and makes it hard to breathe.
“I don’t like this,” Gigi mutters, her grip tightening on the key.
Cecilia steps beside her, her green eyes scanning the room with practised precision. “Stay alert. This feels... wrong.”
The air shifts, and suddenly the same disembodied voice from the previous trial booms through the chamber, deep and resonant.
“Trial Two: The Mirror of Truth. Only through complete trust and mutual understanding will you proceed. Face what lies within, or remain trapped in your illusions.”
Gigi tenses as the torches lining the room’s edges flare brighter, casting long, flickering shadows. Her gaze darts to Cecilia. “Did it just say... complete trust? Because that’s not exactly our strong suit.”
Cecilia doesn’t answer. Her attention is fixed on the largest mirror at the far end of the chamber. Unlike the others, its surface is smooth and perfectly reflective, showing a pristine image of the room and the two of them standing at its centre.
“Look,” Cecilia says, nodding toward the mirror.
Reluctantly, Gigi follows her gaze. At first, all she sees is their reflection—herself standing awkwardly beside Cecilia, her scarf slightly askew, her expression tense. But then, the image begins to ripple.
“What the—”
The reflection shifts.
Gigi gasps as she sees herself in the mirror, but it’s not her as she is now. It’s her younger self—desperate, angry, and hopelessly alone. The mirror flickers again, showing moments she’s tried to bury: her voice breaking as she argued with shadowy figures, the sting of rejection when she reached out to people who didn’t care, and... Cecilia.
The image solidifies, and there she is, staring longingly at Cecilia’s back as the other woman walks away, indifferent.
“No,” Gigi whispers, stepping back instinctively. “This isn’t real.”
But the mirror doesn’t care. It shifts again, this time showing Cecilia, her sharp green eyes filled with disdain as she turns to Gigi and says something inaudible but undeniably cold.
Gigi feels like the air’s been punched out of her lungs. “What kind of sick game is this?”
Cecilia, meanwhile, is frozen in front of the mirror, her jaw clenched, her posture rigid. Whatever she’s seeing, it’s affecting her just as much as Gigi’s vision is affecting her.
“What are you seeing?” Gigi asks, her voice shaking.
Cecilia doesn’t respond, her eyes locked on the mirror.
Gigi steps closer, reaching out tentatively. “Cecilia—”
“I’m fine,” Cecilia snaps, pulling away. Her voice is sharp, but there’s a crack in it, a hint of something vulnerable beneath the surface.
“No, you’re not,” Gigi retorts, the fear and frustration bubbling over. “This whole place is messing with us. Whatever it’s showing you, it’s not real.”
“And you think I don’t know that?” Cecilia’s voice is low and dangerous, but her hands are trembling.
Gigi exhales sharply, her own reflection flickering back into her vision. She sees herself again—older this time, but still alone, always alone. The weight of it presses down on her, and for a moment, she feels like she’s drowning.
The voice echoes again, louder this time:
“Trust begins with truth. Share what you see, or the trial will not end.”
Gigi’s heart pounds as she looks at Cecilia, whose face is unreadable now. “Did you hear that? We have to... talk about it.”
“I’m not interested in baring my soul to a magical mirror,” Cecilia bites out, crossing her arms.
“Yeah, well, I don’t think we have a choice.” Gigi’s voice softens as she steps closer, the tension between them almost unbearable. “Look, I don’t want to do this either, but if we don’t...” She gestures to the mirrors. “We’re stuck.”
Cecilia exhales, her jaw tightening. “Fine.” She looks at Gigi then, her green eyes sharp but vulnerable. “You first.”
Gigi hesitates, the weight of her reflection pressing down on her. “I see... myself. Alone. Always trying to connect with people who don’t care, who don’t stay.” Her voice falters. “And I see you. Leaving. Like everyone else.”
Cecilia’s expression softens, just slightly, but she doesn’t interrupt.
“And?” she prompts.
“And it hurts,” Gigi admits, the words tumbling out before she can stop them. “Because I...” She swallows hard, her cheeks burning. “Because I care about you. More than I should.”
The silence that follows is deafening.
Cecilia’s gaze flickers, her own reflection shifting in the mirror behind her. “I see myself,” she says finally, her voice low. “Failing. Letting people down. Hurting the ones I...” She pauses, her eyes narrowing. “The ones who matter.”
Her words hang in the air between them, heavy and raw.
“You don’t have to be perfect,” Gigi says softly, surprising herself with the gentleness in her voice. “You’re not alone in this.”
Cecilia looks at her, really looks at her, and for the first time, Gigi sees a crack in the armour.
The mirrors shimmer, their surfaces rippling like water before going still. The air warms again, the oppressive weight lifting.
“Trial Complete. Trust begins with truth. Proceed.”
A door opens on the far side of the chamber, revealing the next passage.
Cecilia exhales, running a hand through her hair. “Let’s go.”
As they step out of the trial room, the cold, damp air of the passage hits them like a shock, contrasting sharply with the oppressive warmth of the mirror chamber. The heavy door swings shut behind them, sealing away the reflections—and the vulnerability they’d both just faced.
The passage ahead is dimly lit, but the tension between them lingers, like a taut string ready to snap.
Gigi walks in silence, her mind a whirlwind of everything she’d seen, everything she’d said. She feels exposed, raw, like the mirror had ripped something out of her and left her hollow. Her grip on the key tightens as if grounding herself in its solidity.
Cecilia is a step ahead, her movements precise and composed, as if nothing had happened. But Gigi knows better now. She’d seen the crack, even if it had only been for a fleeting moment.
The silence stretches, thick and heavy, until Cecilia suddenly stops. Gigi nearly bumps into her, startled.
“What—”
“I won’t leave you,” Cecilia whispers, her voice barely audible, but it carries a weight that makes Gigi’s breath catch.
Before Gigi can process it, before she can respond, Cecilia starts walking again, her long strides purposeful, as if the words had never left her lips.
Gigi stands frozen for a moment, staring at Cecilia’s back as it retreats into the shadows. Her chest tightens, warmth spreading from where the words had hit her like an arrow.
She swallows hard, a faint, involuntary smile tugging at her lips.
“Hey,” she calls out, jogging to catch up. “You can’t just say stuff like that and walk away!”
But Cecilia doesn’t look back, her voice carrying a hint of amusement as she replies, “Keep up, Gigi. We’re not done yet.”
Gigi grins despite herself, the lingering tension between them easing just enough to make room for something softer. As she falls into step beside Cecilia, her heart beats a little steadier.
They’re not done yet, sure. But for the first time, Gigi dares to believe they might actually make it through—together.
The corridor twists and turns, narrowing as Gigi and Cecilia press forward. The oppressive silence is broken only by the faint sound of dripping water echoing through the stone walls. A heavy door looms ahead, its iron surface inscribed with symbols that seem to pulse faintly.
“This looks... promising,” Gigi mutters, rolling her shoulders as she steps closer.
Cecilia runs her gloved hand along the carvings, her green eyes narrowing. “It’s a test,” she says quietly.
“Another one? Great,” Gigi sighs, resting her hands on her hips. “What kind of trial is it this time?”
Cecilia presses a sigil, and the door groans open. The room beyond is enormous, its ceiling stretching high into shadowy obscurity. Jagged, moving platforms form a fragmented path across the chamber, suspended above a seemingly bottomless pit. Above the platforms, enormous pendulum blades swing with menacing precision, each gleaming edge reflecting faint torchlight.
A disembodied voice resonates from the walls, cold and unforgiving:
“To cross, you must trust in your footing and in each other. A wrong step will mean your end.”
Gigi’s stomach churns at the sight of the pit. “This is... excessive.”
“Stay close,” Cecilia says, her voice calm but firm. “I’ll lead.”
The first few platforms are wide enough to traverse easily, though the swinging blades demand constant vigilance. Gigi’s heart pounds in her chest as she watches Cecilia move ahead, her steps precise and confident.
“How are you so calm right now?” Gigi asks, trying to keep her tone light despite the fear bubbling beneath her words.
Cecilia glances back, her green eyes sharp. “Because you’re depending on me.”
Gigi swallows hard and nods, forcing her legs to move.
The trial becomes increasingly perilous as the platforms grow narrower and the blades faster. Gigi follows Cecilia’s lead, every step a gamble against gravity.
They reach a particularly precarious section—a narrow platform flanked by two massive blades swinging in opposite rhythms. Cecilia moves across first, her movements fluid as she times her steps perfectly.
“Your turn,” she says, motioning Gigi forward.
Gigi takes a deep breath, her hands shaking as she steps onto the platform. She counts the rhythm of the blades, her mind racing. One step. Two steps. She’s almost there—
Her boot slips on the edge of the platform.
The world tilts.
“Gigi!” Cecilia’s voice is sharp, cutting through the roar of panic in Gigi’s ears.
Gigi stumbles backward, her foot sliding off the edge as her arms flail. She feels the sickening rush of air as she starts to fall—
Then Cecilia is there.
Her hand clamps around Gigi’s arm with unyielding strength, pulling her back onto the platform with a force that sends them both toppling. Cecilia falls hard against the platform, her back hitting the unyielding stone with a grunt. Gigi crashes down on top of her, sprawled awkwardly across Cecilia’s chest.
For a moment, neither of them moves. Gigi blinks, breathless, her heart pounding as she realises what just happened. Her face is inches from Cecilia’s, and she can feel the rise and fall of Cecilia’s chest beneath her.
“Close one, huh?” Gigi says shakily, her voice barely more than a whisper.
Cecilia doesn’t respond—not with words. Instead, she wraps her arms around Gigi in a fierce, protective hug, holding her so tightly it takes Gigi’s breath away.
“C-Cecilia?” Gigi stammers, startled by the sudden embrace.
Cecilia doesn’t let go. Her voice is low, trembling slightly, but filled with a determination Gigi has never heard before. “I almost lost you.”
The raw emotion in those four words makes Gigi freeze. She can feel the tension in Cecilia’s hold, the desperation in the way she clings to her, as if letting go would mean losing her all over again.
“But you didn’t,” Gigi whispers after a moment, her voice soft and steady despite her racing heart. “I’m here. Thanks to you.”
Cecilia pulls back slightly, just enough to meet Gigi’s gaze. Her green eyes are sharp and vivid, but there’s something vulnerable in them too—something Gigi can’t look away from.
For a moment, they just stare at each other, the world around them fading into the background. Then, as if realising the intimacy of their position, Cecilia clears her throat and gently shifts Gigi off of her. She stands, her usual composed expression sliding back into place, though there’s a faint unsteady whirr coming from her inner machinery.
“Let’s keep moving,” Cecilia says, her voice steady but quieter than usual.
Gigi stays on the ground for a moment longer, staring up at her. Her mind races as she replays the last few seconds—the way Cecilia held her, the emotion in her voice, the fear in her eyes.
With a small shake of her head, Gigi scrambles to her feet and follows. “You’re one hell of a saviour, you know that?” she mutters, trying to inject some levity into her tone, though her voice wavers slightly.
Cecilia doesn’t reply. She’s already moving ahead, but Gigi doesn’t miss the way her hands tremble for just a moment before they steady.
And as they step onto the next platform, Gigi feels a warmth in her chest she can’t quite explain—a flicker of something that feels more dangerous than any trial they’ve faced so far.