Chapter 10: Reflections of the Forgotten
The air inside the underground temple was thick with a metallic scent, tinged with the musk of ancient stone and untouched time. Lila stepped cautiously, each footfall echoing in the vast, hollow chamber as she and Adrien descended deeper into the belly of the mountain. The path before them was lit by flickering wall torches, their flames dancing to a rhythm older than the stars.
Adrien walked ahead, silent, his silhouette tall and sure. The pendant around Lila's neck pulsed faintly, synchronizing with her heartbeat. The closer they got to the temple's core, the heavier it felt—like it recognized the place. Or worse, the place recognized her.
"Why is it so quiet?" Lila whispered, her voice muffled by the thick, musty air.
Adrien didn't look back. "Because what waits ahead does not sleep. It listens."
A shiver crept up her spine, but she pressed on. They reached a towering door carved from obsidian, inlaid with ancient symbols that glowed faintly as they approached. Lila's fingers itched to touch them, but she resisted.
Adrien placed his palm against the door. "Your blood will open it," he said softly.
She flinched. "What?"
"The seal responds only to the heir of the Veil Line. That's you."
Hesitating, Lila reached out. As her fingers touched the cold surface, the pendant on her chest grew hot. The door trembled, and the symbols blazed to life with a burst of crimson light. A low rumble echoed through the ground, and the obsidian split open with a hiss.
Beyond the doorway lay a room of mirrors.
Hundreds of them.
They lined the walls, floor to ceiling—some cracked, others pristine. Each reflected not just her current form but flashes of something else: her eyes turning silver, her hair crowned in fire, her hands glowing with celestial light. In others, she saw a girl in war armor, wounded and broken. A child crying in an orchard. A queen bowing her head before a throne of smoke.
"Are these... me?" she asked, voice quivering.
"They are fragments," Adrien said. "Memories your soul has carried through lifetimes."
She walked further in. The mirrors shimmered as she passed, some warping her reflection into monstrous forms, others showing her as a radiant beacon. One in particular drew her gaze—a full-length mirror framed in silver vines. Unlike the others, it didn't show any distortion. It simply showed... her. As she was now.
Lila stepped closer. "Why does this one feel different?"
Before Adrien could answer, the mirror rippled like water, and her reflection reached out.
Lila stumbled back with a gasp.
The reflection smirked. "Scared of yourself?" it asked.
The voice was hers, but sharper. Older. Hungrier.
Adrien stepped between them, shielding Lila. "This is the Mirror of Echoes. It reveals the part of you most aligned with your buried truth."
"You mean this is what I'll become?" Lila asked, trembling.
"It's what you could become. If the shadows win."
The reflection laughed. "I am the truth. She's just a mask."
Lila's breath caught. The pendant pulsed again, reacting to the mirror.
"Do not listen to it," Adrien said. "It feeds on fear."
But the reflection wasn't done. "Why trust him, Lila? He kept secrets. Lied. Used you. You felt the truth, didn't you? The way he looks at you isn't protection—it's guilt."
Adrien flinched.
Lila turned toward him. "What is she talking about?"
He didn't answer.
"Adrien?" she pressed.
The air turned cold. A wind swept through the chamber though there were no windows. The torches dimmed.
Lila's reflection stepped out of the mirror entirely.
She gasped. It wasn't just a reflection—it was a physical double, cloaked in shadows. Her eyes were black voids. Her voice, cold and electric.
"I am the part of you that remembers the fire. The blood. The betrayal. The throne."
Adrien drew a blade from beneath his coat—slender and carved with runes. "Don't listen. She's a remnant. A shadow that escaped the seal."
Lila's heart pounded. "Why didn't you tell me there were parts of me already out there?"
"Because I didn't know how much had awakened."
Her double lunged, and Adrien intercepted. Steel clashed with darkness, light sparking from the contact. Lila backed away, heart pounding.
The mirrors around her began to crack. Each fracture echoed with voices.
"Lila of the Ashen Veil."
"Bearer of the Shard."
"Breaker of Light."
She dropped to her knees, clutching her ears. "Make it stop!"
The pendant flared blindingly bright.
Her shadow double screamed and dissolved into smoke.
Silence.
Adrien knelt beside her, breathing hard. "It's starting. You're remembering."
Tears streamed down Lila's face. "I don't want this."
"But it wants you." He helped her stand. "You're not alone, Lila. I'm still here."
She looked at the silver-framed mirror. Her real reflection had returned—eyes wide, lips parted, frightened but whole.
"Why did it say you were guilty?" she asked.
Adrien looked away. "Because... I failed you. Once. A long time ago."
She waited, but he said nothing more.
The temple trembled again, dust falling from the high ceiling.
"We need to go," he said. "This place won't remain stable for long."
They hurried from the chamber as the mirror room collapsed behind them. The ancient doors sealed once more, as if nothing had happened.
Outside, night had fallen.
Lila looked up at the sky, the stars strangely dim.
"You've seen what waits within," Adrien said. "Now the real war begins. Not just with the world—but within yourself."
And Lila knew, deep in her bones, that this was only the beginning.