The deeper they searched, the more uncertain reality became.
Stormbreak Vale no longer felt like the bastion Althar had reclaimed. Rooms had shifted subtly. Hallways led to doors that hadn't existed a week ago. Some soldiers looked him in the eye and smiled—yet blinked too rarely or laughed at the wrong moments.
Names were slipping. Slowly, like sand through clenched fingers.
Kaelis was the one who proposed the unthinkable.
"We need to use the Mirror."
Ariya stiffened. "That cursed relic? You said it nearly unmade a prince."
"It shows the truth," Kaelis replied. "Even the Hollow Veil can't lie to it. It doesn't see flesh. It sees names—real names."
Althar looked at her, a weight behind his stare. "Where is it?"
She hesitated, then slowly drew a small map from the inside of her coat. A curl of pale vellum inked in blood and ash.
"The Mirror of True Names is hidden in the Catacombs beneath the Temple of Nine Flames. Deep beneath the Vale."
Seris leaned forward. "Then what are we waiting for?"
The descent into the Catacombs was suffocating.
Long-abandoned, the tunnels beneath the Temple wound downward like the coils of a dead serpent. Braziers lined the halls, but no flame would catch—Kaelis had to conjure witchlight to guide their way.
The deeper they went, the more the walls whispered.
Not words—but half-remembered phrases. Forgotten laughter. Faint sobbing.
Memories… that didn't belong to them.
"They're echoes," Kaelis said softly. "Names that were taken. Bound here."
Althar said nothing, but his hand never left the hilt of his sword.
At last, they reached the chamber.
The Mirror stood at the center.
Seven feet tall, framed in black iron. Its surface was not glass, but water, still and rippling at once. The air around it felt thick, like every breath pulled against the gravity of memory itself.
"Only one may gaze at a time," Kaelis warned. "And what you see—you cannot unsee."
Althar stepped forward.
The others stood back as he faced the Mirror.
His reflection appeared—but not as he looked now.
He saw himself as he had been: the Heartless King, crowned in flame and shadow, eyes empty and cruel.
Then that image cracked.
Piece by piece, the mirror revealed what lay beneath:
A man broken by duty.
A soul numbed by lifetimes of war.
A name scrawled not in ink or stone—but in silence.
Then the image shifted.
Behind him, in the mirror, stood Kaelis.
But her reflection wavered.
Her face rippled.
Eyes flickered black.
"No…" Althar whispered.
He turned slowly.
Kaelis stared at him, confused. "What did you see?"
"You."
He drew his blade.
Ariya stepped between them. "Althar! What are you doing?!"
"She's not Kaelis."
Kaelis blinked. "What are you talking about—"
"You're not the one who climbed with us. You're close—but the Mirror saw it. You flinched when I carved my name into the rune. The real Kaelis would have smiled."
The false Kaelis froze.
And then melted.
Her form wavered—skin like paper unraveling. Eyes bled into shadow. A mouth opened too wide.
"Clever little king," the Hollow Veil agent hissed.
"Too clever for your new emotions."
Althar moved before it could vanish. His blade—blessed with name-runes—slashed through the creature's center.
It screamed as its stolen form collapsed, and the mirror flared.
For one instant, the face of the real Kaelis flashed across its surface—lips moving in a silent plea.
Then she was gone.
Silence followed.
Ariya looked like she'd been struck. Seris stood pale and still.
"She's not dead," Althar said firmly. "They've taken her. Hidden her somewhere—maybe even cloaked her name."
Seris whispered, "If they can hide Kaelis... they can hide anyone."
Ariya turned to the mirror. "We check everyone."
That night, the Mirror was brought into the war chamber.
One by one, every officer, every mage, every scout passed before it.
And three more were revealed.
Three false faces.
Three names that didn't exist.
They were burned.
But it wasn't enough.
The Hollow Veil had struck at their heart.
And they had taken Kaelis.
Althar stood before the Mirror one last time that night.
Not to look at himself.
But to whisper her name.
Over and over.
Until he was certain the world would never forget it.