The cold penetrated to the bones.
Evan opened his eyes, feeling the rough surface of the ice under his fingers. He was lying in the center of a circular hall, the walls of which were perfectly smooth mirrors covered with fine frost. They reflected hundreds of his silhouettes—pale, with disheveled hair, without a sword.
The last thing he remembered was a cracked mirror, arrows flying in his direction, and then... a fall.
Not down.
Inside.
He stood up, looking around. The room was empty except for a strange pedestal in the center, a black stone with runes etched into it. There was a mirror on it, an exact replica of the one he had taken from Walter.
"Welcome,— said a voice.
Evan whirled around.
In one of the mirrors—not in the reflection, but in the ice itself—there was a figure. She was tall, dressed in dark clothes, with her face hidden by the shadow of her hood.
—The Guardian,— Evan said. Not a question. A statement.
The figure took a step forward and walked out of the mirror, leaving no cracks.
"You know me.
—I know you shouldn't be here,— the Guardian replied. His voice sounded strange, as if several people were talking in unison. — This world is not for people like you.
Evan smiled.
— And for which ones?
"For the dead."
Silence hung in the air between them. Evan slowly walked back to the pedestal, keeping his eyes on the Keeper.
"I wonder,— he said, "why am I still breathing?"
"Because you stole this path." The real Evan d'arclent knew the rules. You're not.
Evan lifted the mirror from its pedestal. It was as cold as death itself.
— And what rules did I break?
"Mirrors don't lie,— said the Guardian. — They show only the truth. And you... You're all a pack of lies.
He took a step forward, and suddenly the room changed. The mirrors flickered, showing other places, other times:
— Castle D'Arclents. Lord Artorius signs a decree on his search.
— City streets. The people are already whispering that he killed not only the duke, but also Councilor Walter.
— The Throne Room of the House of Ice. Serafina d'laurin listens to a report on his "betrayal."
Evan didn't look away.
"Why are you showing me this?"
"So that you understand," the Guardian approached, "that there is no turning back.
"You're wrong.
Evan spun around and smashed the mirror on a rock.
The ice walls trembled. The Keeper froze.
"You."..
"Mirrors don't lie," Evan repeated. "But you're not a mirror."
He picked up the shard and threw it right in the Keeper's face.
The man screamed—strangely, as if many voices were shouting at once—and recoiled. His form wavered, as if losing its density.
"You can't."..
Evan picked up another piece of glass. "Because you're part of this place." And this place...
He hit a nearby mirror with a piece of glass.
It's cracked.
—...fragile.
The Guardian rushed forward, but it was too late. Evan struck again and again, and with each blow the room collapsed. The icy walls crumbled, revealing behind them...
The darkness.
And there's a single door in it.
Serafina's POV
The north wind howled through the tall windows, but Lady Serafina d'laurin didn't care. She was standing in front of a map of Laura spread out on the table, studying the latest reports.
"He couldn't have done it," she said aloud, even though there was no one in the room.
Is Evan d'arclent a murderer? A traitor?
No.
She knew him. Not the frivolous scamp he pretended to be at court. And the other one. That he found her in the garden one night and said only three words.:
"They're deceiving everyone."
And now he's gone.
Serafina went to the window. Somewhere out there, beyond the snow, he was wanted as a criminal. And she...
She had to find him first.
There was a knock on the door.
"Come in."
The captain of the guard entered.
—My Lady, your father wants you on the council." The messengers of the House of Shadows have arrived.
"What do they want?"
"They're talking... The captain hesitated, "that they have proof." That d'arclent was not acting alone.
Serafina exhaled slowly.
"Tell your father I'll be there in an hour."
When the door was closed, she went to the mirror in the corner of the room, an old silver—framed one she had inherited from her mother.
And she put her hand on him.
"If you can hear me.".. "You know that," she whispered. I won't believe their lies.
The mirror remained cold and lifeless.
But somewhere far away...
Something answered.