Consumed by crimson flames, Knight Captain Robert collapses, crumbling to dust from his split skull as he falls.
“Come back however many times you want. No matter what…” Shaking his sword free, Gideon brandishes it once more and thrusts it through his former friend. “I’ll cut you down every time.”
It’s an oath with himself. One to separate him from his old self.
A single drop of liquid shimmers amid the blaze.
Contrary to his brave words, Gideon allows the tears to fall freely. Screwing up his face, he sniffles uncontrollably, shedding tears. One by one, the tears disappear into the flames and turn to steam.
Thanks to taking a full drink of the Dragon’s Breath, not a single hair on his head has been singed.
Ah, I see… It’s no longer a part of me once it spills out…
Watching until he ascertains that the final specks of his enemies have faded away, he gives his sword a clean swing and returns it to its sheathe. Gideon roughly wipes his face with his fist. Then adjusts his hat to hang low over his eyes and steps forward, continuing onwards before the flaming breath that lights his surroundings burns out.
“For the princess.”
CLAAANG! He swings open the heavy door and enters the castle that holds his princess captive.
✦ ✦ ✦
LADY Megan is peering into the mirror in the room at the tower’s peak, where she’s gathered beautiful, pretty things fit for a princess. Her thinly groomed eyebrows knit together, forming creases in her porcelain brow.
“Ungainly—” The next instant, a maelstrom of flames envelop the mirror surface and pounds against its backside. “No! How can it be?!”
The elliptical mirror, framed in a gold and silver rim held in place by a sapphire skull—the Mirror of the Departed—warps from the inside-out. Lady Megan merely finds it disturbing; she thinks it will withstand, just as it had the last time.
But the castle underground is the battlefield this time. A location much closer to her than the hideaway in the forest.
CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!
“What? What’s happening?”
Emitting a deafening shriek, the mirror splinters sideways—the hidden, fine crack from before now webs out in hundreds of directions, shooting across the entire mirror’s surface in the blink of an eye! Lady Megan thrusts her ring out over it, trying to keep the power restrained—but she can’t make it in time.
Sharp, painful, clear, and crisp sounds ring forth as the Mirror of the Departed mercilessly shatters into countless fragments.
“AAAHH!”
Flying shards assail Lady Megan. Her slender arms and her thin fluid dress can’t protect her; she can’t run away. The largest jagged shard pierces her white, unblemished forehead. And not a single mirror shard falls to the floor. As if the pieces have a will of their own like living creatures, shard after shard stabs into Lady Megan as if unnaturally drawn to her. Hauntingly, they pierce through her hands, through her feet, through her face, mouth, throat, and through her eyes.
Lady Megan screams for the first time in her life from unimaginable pain. But no matter how desperately she screams, no voice comes out and no one comes to her aid.
✦ ✦ ✦
THE dampness lessens the farther up the stairs I go. The water-laden stones give way to dry ones, and the air pressure eases up with every step.
Slipping out of the underground tunnel, I return aboveground. There, the stairs come to an end with a flat slab of stone sealing off the overhead exit. Crouching on the highest step, I listen intently.
No signs of movement. Nodding to myself, I descend four steps.