The air in the forbidden chamber smelled of ancient dust and melted wax. Six-year-old Alaric rubbed his eyes with small hands, trying to erase the image of that wicked reflection he'd seen in the mirror. Beside him, twelve-year-old Seraphine breathed heavily, her sword still glowing faintly from the fire spell she'd cast.
"That... that wasn't normal," the silver-haired girl murmured, licking her dry lips. Her usually impeccable hair hung disheveled and streaked with soot.
Shards of the broken mirror lay scattered across the floor, reflecting light at impossible angles. Alaric cautiously approached one of the larger fragments, bending to examine his reflection. For a moment, he thought his golden eyes shone with an unnatural gleam.
"Look!" Seraphine pointed beneath the now-empty mirror pedestal where a small blue leather-bound book lay hidden in shadows. The Drachenherz crest was embossed on its faded cover.
Alaric carefully picked it up, immediately recognizing their mother's elegant handwriting on the first page:
*"Day 23 of my confinement: The mirrors lie again. Today they showed my son with eyes not their own. Edric insists it's my imagination, but I know what I saw."*
Seraphine turned the page with trembling fingers. The next entry was stained with something dark.
*"Day 47: I broke the dressing mirror. For a moment, I saw the truth. There's something inside Edric that isn't human. Something that—"*
The rest of the page had been torn away.
Seraphine gasped when Alaric cut his finger on the paper's edge. But instead of red blood, fine golden dust shimmered briefly before dissipating into the air.
"What...what was that?" Seraphine grabbed her brother's hand, watching the small wound close on its own.
Before Alaric could answer, mirror fragments began vibrating across the floor. One by one, they rose into the air as if pulled by invisible strings.
Each shard now showed a different version of Alaric:
- One wet black ink tears
- Another laughed with too many teeth
- A third had completely white eyes
The largest fragment displayed an Alaric with a disturbingly adult expression. When he spoke, his voice was a chorus of overlapping whispers:
*"Each chime is a price you pay. Each lost memory brings you closer to what you truly are."*
Seraphine raised her sword protectively. "Stay away from him!"
The reflection smiled, its golden eyes mirroring Alaric's vision. *"Why does she protect you so fiercely, little prince? What does she know that you don't?"*
The diary in Alaric's hands suddenly flipped to a page near the end where only fragments remained readable:
*"If this reaches you, seek the Clockmaker. Only he can stop the chimes. The thirteen-hour clock is—"*
The rest had been burned away. Alaric shivered noticing the burn marks formed rune-like patterns.
The mirror shards began spinning faster, creating a deafening whirlwind. Seraphine grabbed Alaric's arm.
"We have to go! Now!"
As they fled, the main fragment screamed a final warning: *"Seek beneath the bronze phoenix's wings! Before it's too late!"*
Exiting the forbidden room, Alaric noticed something strange - where his silver tears had fallen, tiny crystal flowers now bloomed, emitting a faint glow.
Seraphine dragged him through dark corridors, sword ready. "Tell no one what we saw," she whispered urgently. "Not Magister Orlan, not father, not one."
Alaric agreed, but one question burned in his mind: why had the reflection claimed Seraphine knew things he didn't? And more importantly - what exactly was his sister hiding?