They stepped into the silent city, the air thick with a stillness that was both unsettling and profound. The frozen citizens, their faces a gallery of arrested emotions, were a constant reminder of the Oracle's power. The heroes moved carefully, navigating through the statuesque crowd, their footsteps the only sound in the dead city. The Truth-Stone in Arthur's hand hummed with a growing intensity, its light casting long, dancing shadows that seemed to chase away the encroaching silence.
Their journey toward the crystalline tower was a race against a new, unseen enemy. The Oracle, sensing their presence, had unleashed a different kind of magic. As they passed a small puddle of water, it shimmered and began to ripple. A figure emerged, not of water, but of pure reflection—an exact replica of Gabriel. But this was no simple clone; it was a mirror image of his worst fears and insecurities. The reflected Gabriel had a cruel sneer on his face and spoke in a voice that was both his and yet filled with venom.
"You are a failure, a prince who will never be king," the reflection hissed, its eyes glowing with a dark light. "Your father's disappointment is a burden you can never escape."
Gabriel froze, his sword-hand trembling. The words, echoing his deepest doubts, pierced him more effectively than any physical blow.
Suddenly, more reflections began to appear in every reflective surface—windows, shiny cobblestones, even the lenses of Seraphina's glasses. A mirrored Lyra, her face twisted in rage, appeared in a shop window, accusing her of abandoning her village to save a world that never cared for her. An Elias reflection, in a polished shield, mocked his reliance on a book, calling him a fraud who had no power of his own. A mirrored Seraphina, in a discarded piece of glass, sneered at her knowledge, claiming it was all useless in a world where magic, not logic, reigned supreme.
"This is her new trick," Arthur said, holding the Truth-Stone up. "She's not creating illusions; she's using our own insecurities against us."
The heroes were now in a different kind of battle, a war against their own self-doubt. The city itself had become a hall of mirrors, each reflection a weapon designed to break their will. They had to fight not just their reflections, but the lies they represented, all while continuing their advance toward the tower.
Gabriel, spurred by the memory of his defiance against the Golem, took a deep breath. "My father believes in me!" he roared, lunging at his reflection in a pool of water. He didn't hit it with the flat of his sword, but with a powerful, truth-filled statement. The reflection shrieked, shattering into a thousand fragments of light.
Seraphina, her mind a fortress of logic, looked at her reflection in a window. "Knowledge is never useless," she said calmly, her voice full of conviction. "It is the foundation of all power." The reflection flickered and vanished.
Lyra fired an arrow at her reflection in a polished storefront. "I fight for those who cannot!" she shouted, her voice ringing with purpose. The arrow, a streak of pure light, pierced the illusion, and it disappeared.
Elias, looking at his reflection in a polished shield, smiled. "This book is not my power; it is a guide," he said. "My power is in my will." The reflection, unable to argue with that truth, dissolved into nothingness.
One by one, the heroes defeated their mirrored selves, their confidence and courage strengthened by each small victory. But the challenge was not over. The city was a maze of these reflections, and the closer they got to the tower, the more menacing and difficult the reflections became. They were now surrounded by a silent army of their own darkest selves, each one waiting to break their spirit. They had defeated the Golem of Whispers, but this new enemy was far more personal, far more insidious.