《The Mirror Prince》 Chapter One: The Boy in the Mirror The rain pounded against the window of Rikk Morgan¡¯s bedroom, a relentless rhythm that echoed the restless thudding in his chest. He sat cross-legged on his faded green quilt, staring at the small hand mirror he¡¯d dug out of the attic earlier that day. It wasn¡¯t much to look at¡ªdull brass frame, chipped glass, the kind of thing his mom would call ¡°vintage junk¡±¡ªbut something about it felt alive. When he tilted it just right, the reflection didn¡¯t quite match his movements. It was subtle, a half-second delay, like the boy in the mirror was deciding whether to follow him or not. Rikk was sixteen, lanky, with a mess of dark brown hair that always fell into his gray eyes. He wasn¡¯t the type to stand out¡ªaverage grades, average friends, average life in a quiet little town where nothing ever happened. But lately, he¡¯d started to feel... off. Like he didn¡¯t belong. Like the air itself was keeping secrets. ¡°Rikk!¡± Mom¡¯s voice sliced through the storm from downstairs. ¡°Dinner¡¯s ready! Put that junk down and come eat!¡± He sighed, setting the mirror on his nightstand. ¡°Coming,¡± he called back, though he didn¡¯t budge right away. His eyes lingered on the glass, where his reflection stared back a little too long before blinking out of sync. Weird. Probably just the light. He shook his head and trudged downstairs. The kitchen smelled like spaghetti and garlic bread, warm and familiar. Mom was dishing out plates while Dad scrolled through his phone at the table. They were a normal family¡ªtoo normal, Rikk sometimes thought. Mom with her curly red hair and freckles, Dad with his broad shoulders and perpetual five o¡¯clock shadow. Rikk didn¡¯t look much like either of them, but people always said he¡¯d ¡°grow into¡± his features. Whatever that meant. ¡°Find anything good up there?¡± Mom asked, sliding a plate in front of him. ¡°Just some old stuff,¡± Rikk said, twirling his fork in the noodles. ¡°That mirror¡¯s kinda cool, though.¡± Dad snorted without looking up. ¡°Cool if you like tetanus. That attic¡¯s a mess.¡± Rikk shrugged, but his mind stayed on the mirror. He didn¡¯t tell them about the reflection. They¡¯d just laugh it off or tell him to get his eyes checked. Dinner passed in a haze of small talk¡ªschool, the weather, Mom¡¯s latest knitting project¡ªuntil Rikk excused himself and bolted back upstairs. The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. The mirror was waiting for him, perched innocently on the nightstand. He picked it up again, tilting it under the glow of his lamp. This time, the reflection didn¡¯t just lag¡ªit changed. His gray eyes turned a sharp, unnatural silver. His hair darkened to midnight black, and for a moment, he looked... different. Not him, but someone else entirely. Rikk froze, breath catching in his throat. ¡°What the¡ª¡± He jerked the mirror away, then back. Normal Rikk stared back now, wide-eyed and pale. ¡°Okay. Okay, I¡¯m losing it.¡± A sudden clap of thunder shook the house, and the lights flickered. In that brief flash of darkness, something seemed to move behind him¡ªor at least, he thought it did. He spun around, heart racing, but his room was empty. Just the rain, the desk cluttered with homework, the posters of bands he barely listened to anymore. He turned back to the mirror, and there it was again: Silver Eyes, staring at him with an intensity that made his skin prickle. ¡°Who are you?¡± Rikk whispered, barely aware he¡¯d spoken aloud. The reflection smirked. Before he could process that, a sharp crack split the air¡ªnot thunder, but something closer, sharper. The mirror vibrated in his hands, and a voice¡ªlow, urgent, and definitely not his¡ªhissed from the glass. ¡°They¡¯ve found you.¡± Rikk dropped the mirror like it burned. It hit the floor with a dull thud, face-up, and the silver-eyed boy was gone. But the room felt different now, heavier, charged with something he couldn¡¯t name. His phone buzzed on the nightstand, and he nearly jumped out of his skin. Just a text from his friend Jake: You doing the chem homework? I¡¯m dying here. He ignored it, eyes locked on the mirror. Downstairs, Mom and Dad were still chatting, oblivious. But up here, in the dim glow of his bedroom, Rikk felt the world shift. Whatever this was, it wasn¡¯t a trick of the light. It wasn¡¯t his imagination. And deep down, in a place he couldn¡¯t explain, he knew it wasn¡¯t the first time he¡¯d felt this pull. _________________________________________________ Across a divide no mortal map could chart, in a world where the sky shimmered with threads of violet and gold, a woman stood in a tower of obsidian stone. Her name was Lysara, and her silver eyes¡ªidentical to the ones Rikk had glimpsed¡ªwere fixed on a scrying pool. The water rippled, showing a boy in a strange, mundane room, clutching a mirror that shouldn¡¯t exist in his hands. ¡°He¡¯s awake,¡± she murmured, her voice tight with both relief and dread. Beside her, a man in dark robes shifted uncomfortably, his staff glowing faintly at the tip. ¡°They¡¯ll come for him now,¡± he said. ¡°The blood sigils won¡¯t hold much longer.¡± Lysara¡¯s jaw tightened. ¡°Then we move. Tonight. He¡¯s been hidden long enough.¡± Sixteen years ago, they¡¯d swapped him at birth, sending their prince to a world without magic to shield him from the enemies who¡¯d slaughtered his kin. The Morgan family had been a convenient shield, unwitting pawns in a game they¡¯d never understand. But the mirror¡ªher mirror¡ªhad found its way back to him. And with it, the truth would follow. The storm wasn¡¯t just rain anymore. It was a warning. Chapter Two: Shadows in the Rain Rikk couldn¡¯t sleep. The mirror lay on the floor where he¡¯d dropped it, its chipped glass glinting faintly in the moonlight that slipped through his curtains. The storm had quieted to a drizzle, but the air in his room buzzed with something electric, something wrong. He kept replaying the voice in his head¡ª¡°They¡¯ve found you¡±¡ªand the way the silver-eyed boy had smirked, like he knew something Rikk didn¡¯t. It was ridiculous. Mirrors didn¡¯t talk. Reflections didn¡¯t change. And yet, he couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that he was being watched. He rolled onto his side, pulling the quilt up to his chin, but his eyes darted back to the mirror. It hadn¡¯t moved, hadn¡¯t glowed or whispered again, but it felt like a living thing, waiting. He should¡¯ve tossed it back in the attic. Or smashed it. Instead, he threw off the covers, grabbed his hoodie from the chair, and knelt beside it. His fingers hesitated over the brass frame before he picked it up, holding it at arm¡¯s length like it might bite. The reflection was normal this time¡ªhis own gray eyes, tired and shadowed, his messy brown hair sticking out from under the hood. No silver, no smirk. He exhaled, tension easing from his shoulders. ¡°Just a stupid trick,¡± he muttered, setting it back on the nightstand. But as he turned away, a faint shimmer rippled across the glass, too quick to be sure he¡¯d seen it. A creak sounded from the hallway. Rikk froze, ears straining. Mom and Dad were asleep by now¡ªDad¡¯s snores usually rattled the house like a freight train. Another creak, softer, deliberate, like a footstep on the old wooden stairs. His heart kicked up, thudding against his ribs. Probably just the house settling. Old houses did that, right? He grabbed his phone, thumb hovering over Jake¡¯s contact, but what would he even say? Hey, my mirror¡¯s haunted, and I think someone¡¯s creeping around my house. Help? The creak came again, closer. Rikk slipped off the bed, bare feet silent on the rug, and crept to the door. He pressed his ear against it, holding his breath. Nothing. Then¡ªa low, guttural hum, like someone breathing too close to a microphone. It wasn¡¯t coming from the hall. It was coming from the mirror. He spun around, and there it was: the silver-eyed boy, staring out of the glass, his lips parted as if he¡¯d been caught mid-sentence. The hum stopped. Rikk¡¯s phone slipped from his hand, clattering to the floor. ¡°What do you want?¡± he hissed, voice barely above a whisper. The reflection didn¡¯t answer, but the room grew colder, the air thickening like fog. Shadows stretched along the walls, longer than they should¡¯ve been, twisting into shapes that didn¡¯t match the furniture. Rikk stumbled back, his heel catching on the rug, and that¡¯s when he saw it¡ªa figure outside his window. Not on the ground two stories below, but hovering, a silhouette against the rain-streaked glass. It was tall, cloaked, and its edges shimmered like heat off pavement. The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. He didn¡¯t scream. He couldn¡¯t. His throat locked up as the figure raised a hand, and the window rattled, the latch clicking open on its own. Wind rushed in, sharp and icy, carrying a smell like charred wood and something metallic. The mirror flared, a pulse of light that stung his eyes, and the silver-eyed boy was gone¡ªreplaced by a swirl of violet and gold, like a sky Rikk had never seen. ¡°Rikk!¡± Mom¡¯s voice broke through the chaos, shrill and panicked from downstairs. ¡°What¡¯s going on up there?¡± The figure vanished, the window slamming shut as if yanked by an invisible string. The shadows snapped back to normal, and the mirror went dark, just a dull piece of junk again. Rikk¡¯s legs gave out, and he sank to the floor, chest heaving. Footsteps pounded up the stairs¡ªMom and Dad, both of them now, their voices overlapping. ¡°Rikk, are you okay?¡± ¡°What was that noise?¡± He didn¡¯t answer right away. He couldn¡¯t. The room was quiet again, but the charred-metal smell lingered, and his hands wouldn¡¯t stop shaking. Mom burst in first, her robe tied crookedly, hair a wild halo. Dad followed, bleary-eyed but alert, scanning the room like he expected to find a burglar. ¡°I¡ªI¡¯m fine,¡± Rikk managed, forcing the words out. ¡°Just... knocked something over. Sorry.¡± Mom frowned, stepping closer. ¡°You look like you¡¯ve seen a ghost. What happened?¡± ¡°Nothing,¡± he lied, shoving the mirror under his pillow with his foot. ¡°Bad dream, I guess. The storm freaked me out.¡± Dad grunted, rubbing his face. ¡°Stupid weather. Go back to sleep, kid. You¡¯ve got school tomorrow.¡± They lingered for a moment, exchanging a look Rikk couldn¡¯t read, before shuffling back downstairs. He waited until their door clicked shut before pulling the mirror out again. It was cold to the touch, heavier than it should¡¯ve been. He didn¡¯t dare look into it. Instead, he shoved it into his backpack, zipping it tight. Whatever was happening, he wasn¡¯t letting it sit out in the open anymore. ______________________________________________________ In the obsidian tower, Lysara¡¯s hands trembled as she gripped the edge of the scrying pool. The water was still, but her mind raced. ¡°They¡¯re already there,¡± she said, voice sharp with urgency. ¡°The Shades breached the veil.¡± The man beside her¡ªKael, her advisor¡ªtightened his grip on his staff. ¡°The sigils held them back, but barely. He¡¯s not ready, Lysara. He doesn¡¯t even know¡ª¡± ¡°He doesn¡¯t need to know yet,¡± she snapped, cutting him off. ¡°He needs to live. Get the portal ready. We¡¯re bringing him home.¡± Kael hesitated, then nodded. ¡°If they reach him first, there¡¯ll be nothing left to bring back.¡± Lysara didn¡¯t respond. Her silver eyes stayed fixed on the pool, where the image of Rikk lingered, a boy caught between worlds, unaware of the war spilling toward him. The mirror had called to him, as she¡¯d known it would. Now, it was up to her to make sure he survived what came next. Chapter Three: Fractured Light The next morning dawned gray and heavy, the sky a bruise over Rikk¡¯s sleepy town. He barely slept, the mirror¡¯s weight pressing against his back through the backpack he¡¯d kept close all night. Every creak of the house had him bolting upright, expecting that cloaked figure to reappear, but nothing came. By the time Mom called him for breakfast, his eyes were gritty, and his nerves were frayed to threads. ¡°Rough night?¡± she asked, sliding a plate of pancakes across the counter. Her tone was light, but her gaze lingered on him a little too long. ¡°Yeah,¡± Rikk mumbled, poking at the food. ¡°Storm kept me up.¡± Dad shuffled in, coffee mug in hand, already dressed for work. ¡°Looks like it¡¯s clearing up out there. You¡¯ll survive the walk to school.¡± Rikk nodded, but his mind was elsewhere. The mirror. The voice. That thing outside his window. He couldn¡¯t tell them¡ªcouldn¡¯t even imagine how to start. They¡¯d think he was cracking up, and maybe he was. He shoveled a bite of pancake into his mouth, barely tasting it, and grabbed his backpack. ¡°Gotta go. See you later.¡± The walk to school was a blur of wet pavement and familiar faces¡ªkids on bikes, cars idling at stop signs. Rikk kept his hood up, hands shoved deep in his pockets, the backpack a constant reminder of the secret he carried. He didn¡¯t look at the mirror again, not yet, but he felt it, like a heartbeat pulsing against his spine. At school, he drifted through the morning classes, doodling in the margins of his notebook instead of listening. Jake caught up with him at lunch, plopping down at their usual table in the cafeteria with a tray of questionable pizza. ¡°Dude, you look like death,¡± Jake said, tearing off a bite. ¡°What¡¯s up?¡± Rikk hesitated. Jake was his best friend¡ªstocky, loud, with a grin that got him out of trouble more often than not¡ªbut this wasn¡¯t something he could explain. Not without sounding insane. ¡°Just tired,¡± he said, pushing his own food around. ¡°Didn¡¯t sleep.¡± ¡°Chem homework¡¯ll do that,¡± Jake said, oblivious. ¡°You finish it?¡± ¡°Barely.¡± Rikk forced a smile, but his eyes flicked to his backpack, propped against his chair. He¡¯d stashed the mirror in the front pocket, wrapped in an old gym shirt, but he swore he could hear it humming faintly, like a distant radio signal. The bell rang, and they split for their next classes. Rikk¡¯s was history, a subject he usually liked, but today he couldn¡¯t focus. The teacher droned on about some war centuries ago, and Rikk¡¯s gaze drifted to the window. Rain streaked the glass, and for a split second, he saw it¡ªa flicker of violet light, like the swirl he¡¯d glimpsed in the mirror. He blinked, and it was gone, just gray sky and wet trees. The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. By the time the final bell rang, Rikk was done pretending everything was normal. He slipped out a side door, avoiding Jake¡¯s usual post-school hangout spot near the bike racks, and headed for the woods behind the school. It wasn¡¯t much¡ªjust a tangle of pines and muddy trails¡ªbut it was quiet, private. He needed to figure this out, and he couldn¡¯t do it with people around. He found a clearing, a patch of mossy ground under a canopy of dripping branches, and dropped his backpack. His hands shook as he unzipped the pocket and pulled out the mirror, still wrapped in the shirt. He peeled the fabric away, holding his breath. The glass was dark, reflecting only his own face¡ªgray eyes, pale skin, a smudge of dirt on his cheek from the walk. No silver. No voice. ¡°Come on,¡± he muttered, tilting it in the dim light. ¡°Do something.¡± Nothing. Just silence, the patter of rain, the rustle of leaves. He was about to shove it back in the bag when the ground trembled¡ªnot an earthquake, but a pulse, like something massive had exhaled beneath him. The mirror flared, blindingly bright, and Rikk stumbled back, dropping it into the moss. The glass didn¡¯t show his reflection anymore. It showed a woman¡ªtall, sharp-featured, with silver eyes that pierced through him. Her dark hair was pulled back, and she wore a cloak that shimmered like liquid night. Behind her, a sky of violet and gold stretched endless, framed by jagged black towers. ¡°Rikk,¡± she said, her voice clear and sharp, cutting through the air like a blade. ¡°You need to listen.¡± He scrambled back, heart slamming against his ribs. ¡°Who¡ªwho are you? What is this?¡± ¡°My name is Lysara,¡± she said, unflinching. ¡°And you¡¯re not where you belong. They¡¯re coming for you¡ªfaster than we thought. You have to trust me.¡± ¡°Trust you?¡± His voice cracked. ¡°I don¡¯t even know you! What¡¯s happening?¡± ¡°There¡¯s no time.¡± Her image flickered, static rippling across the glass. ¡°The mirror is your key. Keep it close. When the portal opens¡ª¡± The ground pulsed again, harder, and a low growl rumbled from the trees. Rikk whipped around, but the woods were empty¡ªuntil they weren¡¯t. Shadows peeled off the trunks, coalescing into shapes: tall, cloaked figures like the one from last night, their edges blurring into the air. Their hands¡ªor what should¡¯ve been hands¡ªwere wisps of darkness, curling like smoke. ¡°Lysara!¡± Rikk shouted, grabbing the mirror. Her image was gone, replaced by his own terrified face, but her voice lingered, faint and fading. ¡°Run.¡± He didn¡¯t think. He bolted, mirror clutched to his chest, backpack abandoned in the moss. The shadows lunged, silent but fast, their presence a cold weight pressing against his back. The woods blurred past¡ªbranches snagging his hoodie, mud sucking at his sneakers¡ªbut he didn¡¯t stop, didn¡¯t look back. He didn¡¯t know where he was going, only that he couldn¡¯t let them catch him. In the obsidian tower, Lysara slammed her fist against the scrying pool¡¯s edge, water splashing over her boots. ¡°They¡¯ve crossed fully,¡± she snarled. ¡°The veil¡¯s too thin.¡± Kael paced behind her, staff glowing brighter now, its tip crackling with energy. ¡°The portal¡¯s not stable yet. If we pull him now¡ª¡± ¡°We don¡¯t have a choice,¡± she cut in, turning to him. ¡°He¡¯s defenseless. Get it open, Kael. I¡¯m going through.¡± ¡°You can¡¯t,¡± he protested. ¡°If you¡¯re lost¡ª¡± ¡°Then you¡¯ll finish it.¡± Her silver eyes burned with resolve. ¡°He¡¯s our last chance. I won¡¯t let them take him.¡± Kael muttered a curse but raised his staff, violet light spiraling from its core. The air in the tower shivered, bending, as the portal began to form¡ªa jagged tear between worlds. Lysara drew her cloak tighter, stepping toward it. She didn¡¯t look back. Her prince was out there, running for his life, and she¡¯d tear the realms apart to reach him. Chapter Four: Into the Breach Rikk¡¯s lungs burned as he crashed through the woods, the mirror digging into his chest with every desperate step. The shadows were close¡ªtoo close¡ªa creeping chill brushing the back of his neck like icy fingers. Branches snapped behind him, too loud, too deliberate, and he risked a glance over his shoulder. The cloaked figures glided through the trees, their forms flickering between solid and smoke, their eyeless faces fixed on him. They didn¡¯t run¡ªthey flowed, relentless and silent, and that terrified him more than anything. He tripped over a root, sprawling into the mud. The mirror slipped from his grip, skidding across the wet ground, and for a panicked second, he thought he¡¯d lost it. He scrambled forward, snatching it up just as a shadow loomed over him. Its smoky hand reached down, and Rikk rolled away, the cold grazing his arm like a blade. He stumbled to his feet and ran again, heart hammering so hard it echoed in his ears. The woods thinned ahead, opening into a stretch of overgrown grass near the edge of town. He burst out of the trees, gasping, and skidded to a halt. The air shimmered, warping like a mirage, and a sound like tearing fabric ripped through the silence. A jagged line of violet light split the space, widening into a portal, and through it, he glimpsed that strange sky¡ªgold-streaked and alien. Lysara stepped out. She was taller than he¡¯d imagined, her presence sharp and commanding, like a storm contained in human form. Her silver eyes locked onto him, and she raised a hand, palm out. ¡°Stay behind me,¡± she ordered, her voice cutting through his fear. Before he could respond, the shadows erupted from the woods, six of them now, their forms stretching impossibly long. Lysara didn¡¯t hesitate. She thrust her other hand forward, and a wave of violet light surged from her fingers, slamming into the nearest figure. It shrieked¡ªa sound like metal grinding on glass¡ªand dissolved into ash. The others recoiled, circling like predators, but Lysara advanced, her cloak billowing as energy crackled around her. ¡°Get to the portal!¡± she shouted, not looking back. Rikk¡¯s legs moved on instinct, sprinting toward the glowing tear. The mirror pulsed in his hand, warm and alive, and as he neared the portal, something shifted inside him. His vision blurred, sharpened, and a jolt ran through his body¡ªlike static, but deeper, pulling at his core. He stumbled, clutching the mirror tighter, and caught his reflection in its glass. His gray eyes were gone, replaced by a piercing silver that glowed faintly in the dim light. His brown hair darkened, turning midnight black, strands falling into his face like ink spilling over paper. This was him¡ªhis true self¡ªrevealed in the mirror¡¯s unyielding truth. He didn¡¯t have time to process it. A shadow broke from the pack, lunging at him. Lysara spun, a whip of light snapping from her hand, and the creature disintegrated mid-air, but another took its place, faster, closer¡ª A second figure emerged from the portal, a man in dark robes, staff blazing with violet fire. He thrust it forward, and a shockwave knocked the shadow back, giving Rikk just enough time to dive through the tear. He hit the ground hard, rolling across smooth stone, the mirror still clutched tight. The air here was thick, spiced with cinnamon and iron, and he pushed himself up, staring at the world he¡¯d tumbled into. Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators! Towers of black stone rose against a sky threaded with violet and gold, their surfaces etched with glowing runes. The ground was polished obsidian, reflecting the strange light like a dark mirror. The portal flickered behind him, and Lysara and the man¡ªKael¡ªstepped through, the tear sealing shut with a hiss. Rikk staggered to his feet, his silver eyes wide, his black hair plastered to his forehead with sweat. ¡°What¡ªwhat¡¯s happening to me?¡± he demanded, voice shaking as he held up the mirror. His reflection stared back, unfamiliar yet undeniable. Lysara turned to him, her expression softening slightly. ¡°You¡¯re awakening,¡± she said. ¡°I¡¯m Lysara. This¡ª¡± she gestured to the man beside her, ¡°¡ªis Kael. And you¡¯re Rikk¡ªor rather, the name you¡¯ve carried. Your true name is tied to this place.¡± ¡°What?¡± His voice cracked, the mirror trembling in his grip. ¡°What do you mean, awakening?¡± Kael lowered his staff, the glow fading. ¡°You¡¯re not of that world, boy. You never were. This is your home¡ªwhat remains of it. The mirror¡¯s calling your blood awake.¡± Rikk shook his head, the words piling up like stones. ¡°What were those things?¡± ¡°Shades,¡± Lysara said, stepping closer. ¡°Servants of those who want you dead. They¡¯ve hunted you since your birth.¡± ¡°Why?¡± He hated how small he sounded, how lost. Lysara met his silver gaze, her own eyes mirroring his. ¡°Because you¡¯re the last of the Aetherian line. A prince of this realm. Your blood holds power¡ªpower tied to mirrors and reflections, a gift of your lineage they¡¯ll kill to extinguish.¡± Rikk stared at her, the weight of it crashing down. Prince. Power. Reflections. It was absurd, but the mirror pulsed again, and his silver-eyed reflection nodded, as if confirming her words. ¡°If I¡¯m... this,¡± he said, gesturing to himself, ¡°why was I there? In that other place?¡± ¡°To protect you,¡± Kael replied, his tone gruff. ¡°Sixteen years ago, your family was massacred. We swapped you with a child from that world to hide you. The Morgans raised you, but they¡¯re not your kin.¡± Rikk¡¯s stomach churned. Mom¡¯s pancakes, Dad¡¯s lame jokes¡ªnone of it was real? ¡°You¡¯re lying,¡± he whispered, but the mirror¡¯s warmth, the change in his eyes and hair, told him otherwise. ¡°We don¡¯t have time for denial,¡± Lysara said, her voice firm but not harsh. ¡°The Shades found you because the sigils concealing you are failing. More will come. We need to move.¡± ¡°To where?¡± Rikk asked, gripping the mirror like a lifeline. Lysara pointed to the tallest tower, its peak piercing the violet-gold sky. ¡°The Spire. The last bastion of your bloodline. There, we can shield you¡ªand teach you to wield what¡¯s waking inside you.¡± ¡°And if I don¡¯t want this?¡± he snapped, anger cutting through the fear. ¡°If I just want to go back?¡± Kael snorted. ¡°That world¡¯s not safe for you now. They¡¯ll follow, and they won¡¯t spare your ¡®Mom and Dad.¡¯¡± Rikk¡¯s breath caught, the thought of those shadows near his parents¡ªreal or not¡ªtwisting his insides. He didn¡¯t want this, but he didn¡¯t want them hurt either. Lysara stepped forward, resting a hand on his shoulder. Her touch was steady, anchoring. ¡°You¡¯re not alone, Rikk. We¡¯ve waited sixteen years for you. Let us guide you.¡± He looked down at the mirror, his silver eyes staring back, his black hair framing a face that felt both foreign and right. Slowly, he nodded, the truth settling over him like a second skin. ¡°Okay,¡± he said, voice quiet but resolute. ¡°Let¡¯s go.¡± Lysara¡¯s lips curved faintly, and she turned toward the Spire. Kael fell in beside her, staff tapping the stone. Rikk followed, the mirror thrumming in his hand, his reflection whispering of powers yet to come. This world, this self¡ªit was his now, and there was no turning away. Chapter Five: The Spire’s Echo The walk to the Spire was quiet, the faint hum of runes along the obsidian path the only sound besides Rikk¡¯s sneakers scraping the stone. Lysara and Kael walked ahead, their steps steady. His silver eyes darted to the violet-gold sky and the jagged towers ahead, then to the small hand mirror in his hand. His black hair fell into his face, unfamiliar. He pushed it back, feeling the mirror¡¯s warmth¡ªa hint something inside him was changing. He couldn¡¯t stop worrying about Mom and Dad¡ªthe Morgans¡ªback home. Were they safe? Had those Shades gone back? He imagined Mom finding his room empty, Dad scratching his head, and his stomach twisted. He also needed to know what this ¡°awakening¡± was that Lysara kept mentioning, the thing that had turned his eyes silver and his hair black. Lysara stopped at a tall archway lined with glowing crystals. She pressed a rune, and the air buzzed. The crystals flashed, opening the arch to a large hall. ¡°Inside,¡± she said, stepping through. Rikk glanced at Kael, then followed. The air was cooler, tinged with cinnamon and iron. The hall was wide, mirrors of all sizes on the walls reflecting bits of the sky. His silver-eyed reflection stared back from every angle. He gripped the mirror tighter. ¡°What is this place?¡± he asked, voice rough. ¡°The Spire of Reflections,¡± Lysara said, moving deeper. ¡°The heart of Aetherian power. Your ancestors built it to harness mirror magic¡ªgateways, visions, truths. It¡¯s where your bloodline¡¯s strength lives.¡± ¡°Mine?¡± Rikk stopped, sneakers squeaking. ¡°I¡¯m not a prince with magic. I don¡¯t get what¡¯s happening. You said I¡¯m awakening¡ªwhat does that mean? Does everyone change like this? And what¡¯s my real name?¡± Lysara turned, her silver eyes steady. ¡°Awakening is when your magic kicks in, between fifteen and nineteen. It¡¯s different for everyone¡ªsome get sparks, others physical shifts like your eyes and hair. Yours is tied to reflections, rare and strong.¡± Kael grunted, staff tapping the floor. ¡°Most don¡¯t change like that. Your Aetherian blood woke through the mirror. Means you¡¯ve got power.¡± Rikk nodded. So it wasn¡¯t always this obvious. ¡°Why me, though? And my name¡ªwhat is it?¡± ¡°It¡¯s Raethar¡ªRaethar Aetheris,¡± Lysara said. ¡°But you¡¯ve been Rikk for sixteen years. We¡¯ll call you what you want.¡± Raethar. It felt heavy, not his yet. ¡°I¡¯ll stick with Rikk,¡± he said. ¡°It¡¯s who I am now. Maybe I¡¯ll change it later.¡± Rikk¡¯s from Mom and Dad, he thought. Lysara nodded. ¡°Rikk it is.¡± She led them to a round chamber with a mirrored ceiling. A pedestal stood in the center, a groove matching his mirror. ¡°Place it there,¡± she said. ¡°Why?¡± Rikk asked, clutching it. ¡°It¡¯s the key to the Spire¡¯s defenses,¡± Lysara said. ¡°It¡¯ll shield you from the Duskveil Line. Their Shades will lose your trail¡ªfor now.¡± Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings. Rikk frowned. ¡°Who are the Duskveils?¡± Lysara¡¯s jaw tightened. ¡°A side branch of your Aetherian family. They broke off generations ago, chasing power.¡± Rikk blinked. ¡°Wait¡ªthey¡¯re my family? Then why don¡¯t they have mirror magic too?¡± ¡°Mirror magic only passes to the firstborn heir of the main line¡ªyou,¡± Lysara said. ¡°It¡¯s tied to the Spire, your birthright. Others in the family might awaken different powers¡ªshadows, fire, whatever their mana shapes. When they do, they often take new names to mark it, start a new branch. The Duskveils chose their name because of their power over shadows.¡± Kael added, ¡°Only the firstborn gets the full Aetherian gift. The rest forge their own path¡ªor turn on us.¡± Rikk took that in. Duskveils were relatives who¡¯d gone rogue. ¡°What about the Morgans? The people who raised me? If these Shades are after me, will they go after them?¡± ¡°The sigils that hid you cloaked them while you were there,¡± Lysara said. ¡°Now you¡¯re here, the trail¡¯s cut. The Duskveils won¡¯t find them¡ªnot yet.¡± ¡°Not yet?¡± Rikk¡¯s voice rose. ¡°What if they figure out where I was?¡± ¡°They¡¯re safe for now,¡± Kael said. ¡°Shades track your blood, not theirs. Place the mirror¡ªit¡¯ll keep it that way.¡± Rikk stepped forward, still uneasy, and set the mirror in the groove. It clicked, and a hum filled the room. The wall mirrors flared, showing scenes¡ªa burning palace, a woman with silver eyes screaming, a baby carried through a glowing tear. ¡°What¡¯s that?¡± Rikk asked, stepping back, heart racing. ¡°Your past,¡± Kael said. ¡°The Spire remembers. That¡¯s the night we hid you.¡± Rikk watched, throat tight. The woman¡ªhis mother?¡ªfought as flames swallowed everything. The baby¡ªhim¡ªvanished into the portal. ¡°And the Duskveils did this?¡± ¡°Yes,¡± Lysara said. ¡°They wield shadow magic and wanted the throne. Sixteen years ago, they wiped out the last of the Aetherians¡ªyour parents¡ªto take it. You were the last threat, so we hid you.¡± Rikk¡¯s fists clenched. ¡°They¡¯re my family and they killed my parents?¡± The thought of them targeting the Morgans next burned in his chest. ¡°Yes,¡± Kael said, moving to a window slit. ¡°They rule now, but you¡¯re back. Your gifts could take it all back.¡± ¡°Gifts I don¡¯t have yet,¡± Rikk muttered, brushing his hair back. ¡°You will,¡± Lysara said. ¡°But we¡¯ve got to be careful. The mirror¡¯s cloaked you¡ªthe Shades can¡¯t track you now¡ªbut your enemies won¡¯t stop hunting. You need to train, keep your power secret.¡± ¡°Train how?¡± Rikk asked. ¡°At the Academy of Veils,¡± Kael said. ¡°A school in this realm for young mages. You¡¯ll blend in, learn magic, but keep your reflection gifts hidden. The Duskveils can¡¯t know you¡¯re alive¡ªnot till you¡¯re ready to face them.¡± ¡°A school?¡± Rikk said, caught off guard. ¡°With other kids?¡± ¡°Students,¡± Lysara corrected. ¡°Some your age, some older. They¡¯ll think you¡¯re a novice. Only a few we trust will know who you are. Your mirror magic¡¯s Aetherian¡ªrare. If the Duskveils suspect it, they¡¯ll come fast.¡± Rikk glanced at the mirror in the pedestal, his silver eyes staring back. ¡°So I pretend?¡± ¡°For now,¡± Lysara said. ¡°The Spire¡¯s wards hold tonight. Tomorrow, you go to the Academy. You¡¯ll train, and when the time¡¯s right, you¡¯ll claim what your parents died for.¡± Kael tapped his staff. ¡°Shades may be off you now, but they¡¯ll scour this realm. They will send their people looking for you. Be ready.¡± Rikk nodded, the weight settling in. A school, magic, a throne¡ªall while hiding from relatives who¡¯d kill him and maybe the Morgans too. He¡¯d keep them safe somehow. ¡°Okay,¡± he said, voice steady. ¡°I¡¯ll train. I¡¯ll keep it secret.¡± Lysara¡¯s lips twitched, a hint of approval. ¡°Good. Rest tonight. Tomorrow, your lessons start.¡± The chamber quieted, mirrors dimming. Rikk¡¯s reflection watched¡ªa prince named Raethar Aetherian stepping into a future he¡¯d face one reflection at a time. Chapter Six: The Academy of Veils The violet-gold sky glowed softly through the Spire¡¯s mirrored ceiling as morning light nudged Rikk awake. He shifted on the woven pallet, stiffness nagging his back from the stone floor. His silver eyes squinted against the brightness, and he brushed his black hair aside¡ªstill strange after his awakening. The mirror on the pedestal hummed faintly, anchoring him to last night¡¯s truths: the Duskveils, his parents¡¯ murderers; Raethar Aetheris, a name he wasn¡¯t ready to claim; the Morgans, left behind. For now, he was still Rikk. Lysara walked in with a tray¡ªfresh bread, a purple fruit, a steaming mug¡ªand set it beside him, settling cross-legged on the floor. Her dark blue tunic contrasted her silver eyes. ¡°Good morning,¡± she said with a small nod. ¡°Go ahead and eat.¡± Rikk grabbed the bread, tearing off a chunk. ¡°What¡¯s this about?¡± ¡°Just breakfast and a quick talk,¡± Lysara said, a faint smile tugging her lips. ¡°You¡¯re off to the Academy of Veils today, and I want you to know what¡¯s ahead.¡± Rikk bit into the fruit¡ªsweet with a sharp tang. ¡°Training and staying out of the Duskveils¡¯ sights, yeah?¡± ¡°That¡¯s the idea,¡± Lysara said, leaning forward a little. ¡°The Spire¡¯s safe enough, but it¡¯s not where you¡¯ll build your skills. The Academy¡¯s tucked away, covered in wards. You¡¯ll blend in, pick up the basics of magic, and keep those reflection gifts of yours quiet. It¡¯s the best way to get stronger without the Duskveils sniffing you out.¡± Rikk sipped the mug¡ªwarm, spiced¡ªand nodded. ¡°So I¡¯m just supposed to play the part of some random student?¡± ¡°You¡¯ll go as Rikk Veyn, a transfer from the outer provinces,¡± Lysara said. ¡°Your mirror magic stays under wraps. I¡¯ll train you on it privately once you¡¯re settled in.¡± He chewed slowly, letting it sink in. ¡°And after that, I deal with the Duskveils?¡± ¡°When you¡¯re ready,¡± Lysara said, her tone softening. ¡°Your parents gave everything to protect you, Rikk. This is your shot to make that mean something¡ªand take back what¡¯s yours.¡± She handed him a bundle of gray clothes. ¡°Here¡¯s your uniform. Take a minute to get ready and meet us outside. You¡¯ll be heading through a portal to the Academy.¡± Rikk took the bundle, the fabric coarse against his fingers. ¡°Got it,¡± he said, standing as she left the room. _________________________________________ Kael¡¯s staff sparked violet light, ripping open a portal to reveal rolling hills and a sprawling stone building¡ªthe Academy of Veils. Rikk stepped through, the gray tunic and trousers stiff against his skin, a flimsy mask for his silver eyes and black hair. Students moved across the grounds¡ªsome tapping scry-pads that glowed with runes, others sipping drinks that shimmered faintly in the sunlight. Lysara led him to a heavy oak door and knocked. A woman with steel-gray hair and piercing amber eyes answered. ¡°Lysara, Kael,¡± she said, her gaze shifting to Rikk. ¡°This him?¡± ¡°Headmistress Veyra,¡± Lysara said with a nod. ¡°This is Rikk Veyn. He¡¯s yours to look after now.¡± Veyra¡¯s eyes lingered on him, assessing. ¡°Welcome, Rikk. Magic awakens between fifteen and nineteen, so we see new faces year-round. You¡¯re not the only one starting mid-term. Put in the work, and you¡¯ll find your place.¡± She handed him a leather satchel. ¡°Your books, extra uniforms, and essentials are waiting in your room. You¡¯ll be sharing with Calden¡ªCal¡ªa sixteen-year-old who¡¯s been here a month. Follow me, I¡¯ll get you oriented.¡± Lysara gave his shoulder a quick squeeze. ¡°Stay alert, alright? We¡¯ll swing by to check on you.¡± She and Kael stepped back through the portal, leaving him with Veyra. She guided him down a corridor lined with softly glowing runic tapestries. ¡°Classes are just ahead,¡± she said, pointing. ¡°Dining hall¡¯s off to your left, dorms to your right. Your first lesson¡¯s coming up¡ªProfessor Taryn will be expecting you.¡± They reached a narrow building with ivy creeping up the walls. She pushed open a door to a small room¡ªtwo beds, a desk, a wardrobe. A stack of uniforms and a pile of books sat on one bed. ¡°This one¡¯s yours,¡± Veyra said, gesturing. ¡°Cal¡¯s bunk is across the hall. Settle in after your classes.¡± A lanky boy with freckles and red hair poked his head in, a wide grin spreading across his face. ¡°Hey, you the new guy? I¡¯m Cal¡ªyour roommate, I guess?¡± ¡°Yeah,¡± Rikk said, managing a small nod. ¡°Rikk Veyn.¡± ¡°Nice! First class is starting soon¡ªwant me to show you the way?¡± Cal¡¯s energy was hard to resist, and Rikk felt a bit of his unease slip away. ¡°Sure,¡± he said. ¡°Thanks, Headmistress.¡± Veyra waved a hand. ¡°Off you go.¡± The classroom had tiered benches facing a wide window, students settling in with scry-pads and books. Cal snagged seats near the back, sliding in beside Rikk. Professor Taryn walked in¡ªtall, dark hair streaked with silver, her hands glowing faintly. ¡°Good morning, everyone,¡± she said with a warm smile. ¡°Welcome to Introduction to Awakening and Simple Magic. Pull up Mana¡¯s First Steps on your scry-pads or grab a hardcopy¡ªtoday¡¯s topic is ¡®Light Manifestation,¡¯ about halfway through the text.¡± She tapped her scry-pad, projecting a diagram of a figure with shifting eye and hair colors. ¡°Awakening happens between fifteen and nineteen, when your body taps into mana to improve itself¡ªyour eyes might change color, your hair could shift, you might grow taller or gain strength. It¡¯s a physical sign you¡¯re becoming a healthier version of yourself. Today, though, we¡¯re working on a basic mana skill: channeling it into a light orb above your palm. It¡¯s not part of awakening¡ªjust a starting point. Think of your mana like a breath¡ªdraw it up from your core, that warm spot inside you. Picture a small, steady light, then use your will to make it happen. The steps are in your text¡ªfeel your mana first, then shape it. Take it slow.¡± Taryn raised her hand, a steady blue orb forming above her palm. ¡°See how it stays solid? Give it a try when you¡¯re ready.¡± Cal scrolled through his scry-pad, skimming the page. ¡°Okay, let¡¯s see what I¡¯ve got,¡± he said, closing his eyes. A faint green orb flickered above his hand, holding for a moment before fading. ¡°So close,¡± he said with a grin. ¡°Your turn, Rikk.¡± Rikk felt his mana hum¡ªtoo strong, too easy¡ªbut he couldn¡¯t let it show. He glanced at the text¡ªFeel the warmth, see the light¡ªand faked a struggle, letting a dim, shaky orb flicker to life before snuffing it out. ¡°Yeah, it¡¯s harder than it looks,¡± he said, keeping his tone light. A wiry girl with short black hair sat nearby, her scry-pad open. A faint orange orb glowed above her hand, wavering slightly. Across the room, a tall boy with sharp cheekbones formed a crisp red orb without even glancing at his pad, a smirk playing on his lips. A few students managed wobbly glows; others stared at their hands, frowning. You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story. Taryn walked between the benches, adjusting a student¡¯s posture here and there. ¡°Breathe into it¡ªintent first, then will,¡± she said, stopping by Rikk. ¡°Good effort, Veyn. Keep at it.¡± The bell hummed¡ªa soft rune chime¡ªand she nodded. ¡°Read ¡®Mana Flow¡¯ for tomorrow.¡± Cal stretched as they headed out. ¡°History¡¯s next. Want to grab something to drink first?¡± Rikk nodded, trailing him to a hall vending rune. Cal tapped it, and two cups of shimmering juice slid out. ¡°Better than it looks,¡± he said, handing one over. Rikk took a sip¡ªtangy, warm. ¡°Weird setup,¡± he said. ¡°You¡¯ll get the hang of it,¡± Cal said, leading the way. _______________________________ Professor Halden¡¯s room smelled of old paper, maps and books lining the walls. He stood at a podium, wiry and nasal-voiced. ¡°Alright, everyone, open Realm and Rule,¡± he said, tapping his scry-pad to project a timeline. ¡°Today¡¯s lesson is ¡®The Duskveil Ascension,¡¯ sixteen years ago. The Aetherian line collapsed. Most of you are aware of the illness that struck the capital around 16 years ago. The plague decimated many families and leaders in the kingdom. The Duskveils, a noble house, stepped in with their shadow magic to bring order. They¡¯ve ruled since, strengthening trade and borders.¡± Rikk¡¯s jaw tightened as he pulled up the text. Illness? They were murdered. He glanced at Cal, keeping his voice low. ¡°That¡¯s not right.¡± Cal shrugged, scrolling his pad. ¡°It¡¯s the official story. Doesn¡¯t add up, though.¡± A girl with braids leaned over from the next bench, her text marked with notes. ¡°My gran says the Duskveils betrayed the Aetherians sixteen years ago,¡± she whispered. ¡°This ¡®collapse¡¯ stuff is nonsense.¡± A broad-shouldered boy sat ahead, doodling on his scry-pad. ¡°Who gives a crap about this?¡± he muttered, flicking a tiny breeze at the girl¡¯s braids. She swatted it away, shooting him a glare, but he just grinned. ¡°Focus, please,¡± Halden snapped, missing the breeze. ¡°The Duskveils¡¯ rule brought stability¡ªwrite that down.¡± Rikk scribbled, the lie clawing at him. Sixteen years¡ªhis parents¡¯ death, not some collapse. The Duskveils rewrote it. The chime rang, and students shuffled out. The broad-shouldered boy stretched. ¡°Lunchtime¡ªstew¡¯s decent today.¡± ¡°Let¡¯s grab some,¡± the girl with braids said, tucking her scry-pad away. Rikk followed Cal, stomach growling but mind stuck on the Duskveils¡¯ deception. _________________________________ The dining hall buzzed¡ªstudents grabbing trays, tapping scry-pads. Rikk sat with Cal, spooning lukewarm stew. The girl with braids slid in beside them, offering a small smile. ¡°I¡¯m Lina,¡± she said. ¡°You¡¯re the new guy, right?¡± ¡°Yeah, Rikk Veyn,¡± he said, nodding. The broad-shouldered boy joined, tray in hand. ¡°Jor,¡± he said, digging into his stew. ¡°Welcome to the madness.¡± A wiry girl with short black hair sat across, her orange-tinted drink steaming. ¡°Kess,¡± she said, nodding at Rikk. ¡°First days are rough.¡± A blonde girl with a quiet air settled nearby, her scry-pad glowing faintly. ¡°Vara,¡± she said softly. ¡°Nice to meet you.¡± Another blonde, with short hair, plopped down next to Lina. ¡°Erilyn,¡± she said, grinning. ¡°You holding up alright, Rikk?¡± ¡°Barely,¡± he said with a half-smile. ¡°It¡¯s a lot to take in.¡± ¡°No kidding,¡± Erilyn said, sipping a shimmering drink. ¡°First month¡¯s always a slog.¡± Rikk took a bite, then glanced around the table. ¡°So, are you all the only ones awakened in your families?¡± Cal shrugged. ¡°Pretty much. My sister¡¯s too young¡ªmight happen later.¡± ¡°Same here,¡± Lina said. ¡°My gran¡¯s got stories, but no one else in my line¡¯s shown it.¡± ¡°My brother shot up a few inches,¡± Jor said with a smirk. ¡°That count?¡± Erilyn laughed. ¡°Maybe? I wouldn¡¯t know about my real family¡ªI was adopted. I do know that if there is bloodline magic, the firstborn will inherit it.¡± ¡°Guess it takes time to figure out for most of us,¡± Lina said. Cal chuckled. ¡°We¡¯re all just muddling through. Next up¡¯s runes¡ªyou ready, Rikk?¡± Rikk nodded, finishing his stew as the group chattered¡ªJor griping about Halden, Lina debating history with Kess. Names settled in his head, but Erilyn¡¯s words lingered like a shadow. _____________________________________________ The charcoal-scented room had tables covered with stones and chisels. Professor Mirene stood ready, her stout frame steady, hands stained with ink. ¡°Good afternoon,¡± she said. ¡°This is Permanent and Rune Magic. Open Runes of Binding on your pads¡ªtoday¡¯s topic is ¡®Basic Light Runes.¡¯ Runes lock mana into objects for lasting effects.¡± She carved a rune into a pebble, and it glowed blue, radiating warmth. ¡°This holds heat for hours. You¡¯ll etch a light rune today¡ªthe pattern¡¯s on page twelve: three lines, crossed at the top. Pair up, grab a stone, and carve it carefully. Channel your mana as you work¡ªtoo much, and it¡¯ll burn out; too little, it won¡¯t glow. Precision¡¯s everything.¡± Rikk teamed with Cal, who picked up a chisel and stone. ¡°Alright, let¡¯s give it a shot,¡± Cal said, tracing the text¡¯s pattern. His rune flared green for a moment, then faded. ¡°Too fast,¡± he muttered, passing it to Rikk. Rikk took the chisel, copying the lines. His mana flowed too easily¡ªhe dulled it, letting the stone glow a faint silver before graying it out. ¡°Think I got it,¡± he said. Mirene paused by their table. ¡°Nice glow, Veyn¡ªtry sharper lines next time,¡± she said, moving on. Kess swore as her rune fizzled. ¡°Too much mana,¡± she said. Jor¡¯s stone pulsed orange, holding steady. ¡°Nailed it,¡± he grinned. Vara¡¯s rune glowed a soft yellow. ¡°First try,¡± she said quietly, catching Rikk¡¯s eye. Mirene went on about rune duration¡ªhours for beginners, years with mastery. Rikk wondered if mirrors could hold runes, filing the thought away. The chime rang, and Cal yawned. ¡°Meditation¡¯s up next¡ªlet¡¯s go.¡± ¡°Yeah,¡± Rikk said, grabbing his satchel. _____________________________________ Professor Soren¡¯s room was dim, cushions scattered on the floor. He stood in loose robes, voice calm and even. ¡°Welcome to Meditation,¡± he said. ¡°Your handouts¡ªStillness and Mana¡ªare on your pads, under ¡®Inner Focus.¡¯ This sharpens your will and focus, useful for every mage. For bloodline magic, it can reveal or control it. Sit down, close your eyes, breathe deep¡ªfollow the pattern in the text. Feel your mana, let it settle.¡± Rikk sat beside Cal, skimming the handout¡ªslow breaths, calm mind. His mana surged¡ªmirrors flickering in his head¡ªbut he locked it down, breathing evenly. ¡°Does this actually help?¡± he whispered to Cal. ¡°Yeah,¡± Cal murmured. ¡°Makes my mana come to me smoother.¡± Erilyn sat nearby, breathing steadily. Purple sparks danced on her hands, bright, before she blinked them away. ¡°Still no clue if I¡¯ve got bloodline magic,¡± she said to Kess, who¡¯d glanced her way. ¡°Haven¡¯t noticed anything yet.¡± Vara¡¯s hands flickered with yellow light, then faded. Jor and Lina focused silently, no glows showing. Soren paced quietly. ¡°Don¡¯t force it¡ªjust let it flow,¡± he said. Rikk felt his mana tug¡ªreflections calling¡ªbut kept it buried. Could this wake it more? Too dangerous here. The chime rang, ending the day¡¯s classes. Cal stood up. ¡°Lounge time¡ªready to unwind?¡± ¡°Sure,¡± Rikk said, following him out. ______________________________________ The student lounge glowed with rune-lit tables, a wall panel humming enchanted tunes. Cal flopped onto a cushioned bench, tapping his scry-pad to tweak the melody¡ªsharp and lively. ¡°Mana makes it pop,¡± he said with a grin. Lina grabbed a glowing drink from a rune dispenser. ¡°Light-infused¡ªcrisp,¡± she said, taking a sip. She flicked a breeze, spinning a coaster lazily. ¡°Keeps me chill.¡± Jor leaned back, scry-pad open to a game¡ªmana bolts zapping targets. ¡°Give it a try, Rikk,¡± he said, tossing it over. Rikk faked clumsy shots, hitting a few. ¡°Not bad,¡± Jor laughed. Kess joined, her drink steaming orange. ¡°Newbies stick together,¡± she said, nodding at Rikk and Vara. ¡°First month¡¯s a grind.¡± Vara sat sketching runes on her pad, a faint yellow glow tracing her lines. ¡°Light¡¯s my family¡¯s thing¡ªnot bloodline, just a knack,¡± she said, glancing at Rikk. Erilyn dropped beside Lina. ¡°Hey, Rikk, your family big on magic?¡± she asked, sipping her drink. Rikk shrugged, keeping it vague. ¡°Not really. You?¡± ¡°My adopted family is,¡± Erilyn said with a small laugh. ¡°The Duskveils raised me. My cousin Torin¡¯s here too¡ªhe¡¯s awakened, always rubbing in his shadow bloodline magic and how powerful he is.¡± Rikk¡¯s stomach lurched. Duskveils? They adopted her. Does she know what they did? Wiping out his parents and all those people. Is Torin the heir? His grip tightened on his drink, the tang turning bitter. Did she know what they¡¯d done, what their shadow magic stood for? His own mirror magic twitched, a secret he couldn¡¯t let slip¡ªnot with her so close, not with another Duskveil roaming these halls. He forced a casual nod, swallowing hard. She doesn¡¯t know. She can¡¯t. ¡°Guess it takes time to figure out,¡± Lina said, oblivious. Rikk sipped, listening as the others chatted¡ªCal about runes, Jor about combat. Erilyn¡¯s words stuck, the Duskveils¡¯ shadow creeping closer. For now, he was Rikk Veyn, blending in. Cal stretched. ¡°Academy¡¯s one to two years, depends how fast you pick it up. After that, you can apprentice with wizards¡ªadvanced stuff. I¡¯m leaning toward runes.¡± ¡°Wind for me,¡± Lina said. Jor grinned. ¡°Combat vibes.¡± Rikk nodded, half-present. Four classes¡ªlight orbs, Duskveil lies, rune tricks, meditation¡¯s pull. His mirror magic simmered, locked tight. The Morgans¡¯ safety, his parents¡¯ deaths, the Duskveils¡¯ rule¡ªit weighed heavier now, with Erilyn and Torin in the mix. Chapter Seven: The King’s Gambit
Chapter Eight: Reflections of Trust Rikk stirred awake to the gentle chime of runes rippling through the Academy of Veils¡¯ dorms, a soft signal that morning had crept over the violet-gold horizon. Light poured through the narrow window, bathing the stone walls in a warm, otherworldly glow. He stretched, his gray tunic shifting against his skin, and brushed a hand through his midnight-black hair¡ªa sight that still caught him off guard in the small, plain mirror above the desk. His silver eyes glinted faintly, a quiet mark of the magic locked within him, tethered to the Spire of Reflections where he¡¯d left the hand mirror under Lysara¡¯s wards. Here, he was Rikk Veyn, a novice mage stepping into a new life¡ªand today, that felt electric. This world pulsed with wonder¡ªmana threading the air, runes humming with intent, a sky streaked with colors no rainy town could rival. The Duskveils lurked out there, a shadow over his past, but the Academy offered a chance to learn, to shape himself into something more. He rolled off the woven pallet, shaking off the stiffness, and glanced at Cal¡¯s empty bed¡ªhis roommate was already up, likely in the dining hall. Rikk grabbed his leather satchel from the desk, the familiar heft of books and scry-pad grounding him, then tugged on his boots. The coarse uniform settled into place as he headed out, a spark of anticipation in his step. The dining hall buzzed with morning life¡ªstudents tapped rune dispensers, their voices weaving a lively hum as trays clinked with food and drink. The air carried the scent of fresh bread and a sweet, spiced edge, familiar enough from the Morgans¡¯ breakfasts but with a twist that marked this realm apart. Rikk spotted Cal waving from their usual table near the back, joined by the group he¡¯d started to know. Lina¡¯s braids swayed as she flicked a playful jab at Jor, who grinned over a plate of flatcakes drizzled with golden syrup. Kess cradled a steaming cup of amber liquid, her short black hair catching the light, while Vara picked at a bowl of vibrant purple fruit, her scry-pad glowing faintly beside her. Erilyn sat next to Lina, her blonde hair tucked behind her ears, laughing at something Cal said¡ªher ease a bright note, untainted by the Duskveil shadow Rikk kept buried. ¡°Morning, Rikk!¡± Cal called, sliding a cup of shimmering juice his way as Rikk approached. ¡°Grab some flatcakes¡ªthey¡¯re spiced today, worth the early wake-up.¡± Rikk dropped into a seat, snagging a flatcake. He bit in¡ªwarm, with a kick of cinnamon and a nutty sweetness. ¡°Not bad,¡± he said, grinning. ¡°Mom used to make stuff like this¡ªwell, minus the glowy juice.¡± Jor laughed, syrup on his fingers. ¡°No magic back there, huh? What kept you busy?¡± ¡°Woods mostly,¡± Rikk said, keeping it light. ¡°Hiking, dodging chores. This place is a whole new level¡ªstill figuring it out.¡± Lina leaned in, her dark eyes keen. ¡°Woods? Where¡¯d you say you¡¯re from?¡± ¡°Outer provinces,¡± Rikk replied, sticking to Lysara¡¯s cover. ¡°Quiet spot, all fields and not much else. Woke up with these eyes and thought I¡¯d better learn what¡¯s up.¡± He tapped near his silver gaze, casual as he could. ¡°Those stand out,¡± Kess said, glancing over her cup. ¡°Bet they turned heads back home.¡± ¡°Got some stares,¡± Rikk said, chuckling. ¡°You get anything weird when you woke up?¡± Kess shrugged. ¡°Just twitchy mana¡ªkeeps jumping out when I¡¯m not ready.¡± ¡°My hair darkened,¡± Vara offered softly, poking her fruit. ¡°Family trait, nothing fancy.¡± ¡°I¡¯ve got purple sparks,¡± Erilyn said, raising a hand where faint flickers danced before fading. ¡°Still guessing what they do.¡± Rikk nodded, keeping his reaction easy. Purple sparks¡ªher own magic, not the Duskveils¡¯ bloodline shadow tricks. It didn¡¯t tie her to their crimes, just their name, and that was a thread he¡¯d untangle later. ¡°Sparks sound cool,¡± he said. ¡°Beats my wobbly light attempts.¡± Cal smirked, tossing a flatcake onto Rikk¡¯s plate. ¡°You¡¯ll get there. Took me days to stop tripping over it.¡± The chime rang, and they grabbed their satchels, heading for Professor Taryn¡¯s class. The room felt familiar¡ªtiered benches, wide windows framing the violet-gold sky¡ªbut today, Rikk settled in with a quiet thrill. Taryn stepped to the front, her hands glowing faintly as she tapped her scry-pad, projecting a simple light orb diagram. ¡°Good morning,¡± she said, her warm smile quieting the room. ¡°Let¡¯s review yesterday¡¯s light manifestation¡ªopen Mana¡¯s First Steps to that section. You¡¯ve practiced in class and, I assume, on your own. Pair up, show me a steady orb, and we¡¯ll move forward.¡± Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere. Rikk slid in beside Cal, pulling up the text. ¡°Ready to dazzle?¡± he teased, grinning. ¡°Watch and learn,¡± Cal shot back, raising a hand. A solid green orb flared above his palm, bright and unwavering, holding steady before he let it fade. ¡°Nailed it¡ªhours of messing around paid off.¡± Rikk focused, letting his mana hum just enough to blend in. A silver orb bloomed above his hand, smooth and firm, brighter than yesterday but still dialed back. ¡°Not too shabby, huh?¡± he said, keeping it light. Taryn paused by their bench, nodding. ¡°Strong work, both of you¡ªVeyn, that¡¯s leaps from yesterday. You¡¯ve got it down.¡± She moved on, and Rikk glanced around. Kess¡¯s orange orb glowed steady, no flicker, and she flashed him a quick grin. Jor¡¯s red orb shone crisp, while Lina¡¯s breeze shifted into a firm blue light. Vara¡¯s yellow orb held soft and sure, and Erilyn¡¯s purple glow settled into a tight sphere, her smile bright. ¡°Finally,¡± Kess called to Rikk, laughing. ¡°No sparks this time.¡± ¡°Looking good,¡± he replied, matching her grin. Taryn clapped her hands. ¡°Perfect¡ªeveryone¡¯s solid on this. Let¡¯s push ahead. Open Mana Flow¡ªtoday¡¯s topic is channeling mana into motion. Start with your orb, then nudge it upward, like a current. Intent first, then will. Give it a go.¡± She raised her hand, a blue orb forming, then drifting up a foot before winking out. ¡°Keep it simple¡ªa few inches is fine for now.¡± Cal¡¯s green orb rose shakily, dropping after a moment. ¡°Tougher than it seems,¡± he muttered, trying again. Rikk shaped his silver orb, nudging it upward¡ªit floated too easily, so he let it wobble a bit before snuffing it. ¡°Yeah, takes some work,¡± he said, masking the ease. Jor¡¯s red orb shot up fast, nearly brushing the ceiling before he reeled it back, smirking. ¡°Close one.¡± Lina¡¯s blue light lifted a steady inch, and Vara¡¯s yellow orb rose smooth and slow, like a breath. Taryn nodded as the chime rang. ¡°Good first tries¡ªpractice tonight. Tomorrow, we¡¯ll tweak it.¡± Next was Professor Halden¡¯s history class, and Rikk settled beside Cal, his scry-pad open to Realm and Rule. Halden tapped his pad, projecting a timeline marked with the Duskveil Ascension. ¡°Let¡¯s revisit sixteen years ago,¡± Halden said, his nasal voice cutting through. ¡°The Aetherian line fell to illness, and the Duskveils claimed the throne. Today, we¡¯ll cover their new order¡ªlaws, governance changes. Who can start?¡± Lina raised a hand. ¡°They tightened trade¡ªhigher taxes on provinces, stronger borders. Pulled power to the capital, cut local councils down.¡± ¡°Spot on,¡± Halden said, tapping the timeline. ¡°The Duskveils centralized rule¡ªshadow magic enforced it, and they reassigned noble titles to their allies. Stability came, but people lost voice. Notes, everyone.¡± Rikk scribbled, the illness lie biting at him, but he kept his expression blank. The Duskveils hadn¡¯t just stepped in¡ªthey¡¯d carved their rule with blood, his parents¡¯ included. Lina¡¯s quiet doubt from yesterday lingered, though¡ªher gran¡¯s stories might lean toward truth. One day, she might hear his. Cal leaned over, whispering, ¡°All about keeping a grip, huh?¡± ¡°Looks that way,¡± Rikk murmured, glancing at Erilyn. She jotted notes, unfazed¡ªtied to the Duskveils by adoption, not blood, and blind to their real story, he hoped. The day flowed on¡ªrunes with Mirene, where Rikk carved a light rune that glowed a muted silver, crisper than before, and meditation with Soren, where he tamped down his mirror magic under steady breaths, its pull faint without the Spire¡¯s mirror nearby. By evening, the group sprawled in the lounge, scry-pads and books scattered across rune-lit tables, the air rich with ink and warm drinks. ¡°Study night,¡± Cal groaned, slumping onto a bench with Runes of Binding. ¡°Mirene¡¯s runes are brutal.¡± ¡°Same with Taryn,¡± Kess said, flipping through Mana Flow. ¡°This drifting thing¡¯s a pain.¡± Rikk sat between them, his pad open to the same chapter. ¡°What¡¯s up for the weekend?¡± he asked, tossing it out easy. Jor perked up, leaning back. ¡°Everhollow¡ªvillage past the hills. We¡¯re going tomorrow. Market¡¯s buzzing, good eats, maybe some tunes if the traders feel like it.¡± ¡°Nice,¡± Rikk said, flipping a page. A trip beyond the Academy¡ªlively, real, a window into this world. ¡°What¡¯s it like there?¡± ¡°Noisy,¡± Lina said, twisting a braid. ¡°Vendors hawking stuff, mages showing off. Gran says it¡¯s where the realm¡¯s heartbeat is.¡± ¡°Beats slogging through this,¡± Rikk replied, grinning. He liked them¡ªCal¡¯s solid warmth, Lina¡¯s quick mind, Jor¡¯s bold spark, Kess¡¯s dry edge, Vara¡¯s steady calm. Erilyn, too, fit in, her Duskveil name a shadow he¡¯d face later. He couldn¡¯t share his truth yet, but these were threads he could weave, allies for when it mattered. Vara glanced up from her sketches. ¡°It¡¯s full of life¡ªcolors, voices. You¡¯ll get it.¡± ¡°Can¡¯t wait,¡± Rikk said, tracing a line in Mana Flow. His mind flicked to Everhollow¡ªa step out, a break from the grind. For now, he studied, the group¡¯s chatter a soft hum¡ªCal grumbling about rune curves, Lina picking apart trade laws with Kess, Jor lobbing a mana bolt at a game on his pad. ¡°Give it a shot,¡± Jor said, sliding the pad to Rikk. ¡°Hit the marks.¡± Rikk missed a few, then tagged one, laughing. ¡°Getting the hang of it.¡± Kess smirked. ¡°Better than my rune today¡ªalmost torched my notes.¡± ¡°Stay close,¡± Cal said, clapping Rikk¡¯s shoulder. ¡°You¡¯ll fit right in.¡± They worked late, the lounge¡¯s rune-lights softening as night deepened. Rikk leaned back, Everhollow glowing in his thoughts. Tomorrow, they¡¯d go¡ªhim, Cal, Lina, Jor, Kess, Vara, Erilyn¡ªa taste of the realm, a root to ground him here. The mirror stayed at the Spire, unneeded for now. He was building something¡ªtrust, a base¡ªfor when the reflections called again. Chapter Nine: Everhollow The violet-gold sky shimmered above Everhollow as Rikk and his group stepped through the Academy¡¯s portal, the soft hum of it fading into the chaotic buzz of the village market. Hover-carts zipped through the crowd, their rune-engines casting a faint glow, dodging stalls overflowing with stuff¡ªglow-fruits that pulsed like tiny lanterns, rune-stones giving off a low hum, fabrics that shimmered with mana-threaded colors. Vendors hollered through enchanted speakers pinned to their tunics¡ª¡°Glow-fruit, three coppers!¡±¡ªwhile others waved people over, ready to name a price if you asked. Mana-bikes rumbled down the cobblestone streets, riders balancing crates, and scry-pads flickered in folks¡¯ hands, throwing up maps or little games. Rikk¡¯s silver eyes took it all in, his black hair ruffling in the breeze¡ªthis place was alive, a wild mix of magic and tech that made his old sleepy town feel like a distant memory. Cal grinned, elbowing him lightly. ¡°Pretty loud, right? Stick with us or you¡¯ll get swallowed up.¡± Lina laughed, tugging her braids tighter as a hover-lamp buzzed overhead. ¡°Gran always says this is where the realm¡¯s heart beats¡ªtrade, tech, the whole mess.¡± Jor stretched his arms wide, sniffing the air like a dog on a hunt. ¡°I¡¯m smelling flatcakes. Let¡¯s eat.¡± Kess smirked, her short hair catching the glow from a stall¡¯s mana-light. ¡°Good luck keeping him out of trouble, Rikk.¡± Vara¡¯s quiet eyes followed a holo-ad for books drifting by, a small smile tugging at her lips. ¡°It¡¯s¡­ so full of life.¡± Erilyn chuckled, sidestepping a vendor waving a scarf that shifted colors like a chameleon. ¡°Full¡¯s an understatement. Come on, Rikk¡ªdive in with us!¡± They pushed into the crowd¡ªstudents in gray tunics like theirs blending with townsfolk in patched cloaks, mages flicking sparks from scry-pad demos to grab attention. Rikk¡¯s sneakers scuffed the uneven stones, a sharp contrast to the faint hum of lev-boots all around. He was Rikk Veyn here, just a novice mage, but the cover felt flimsy in this whirlwind. The Spire¡¯s mirror was safe back there, but he could still feel its pull, a quiet thrum in his blood. They hit a flatcake stall where the vendor barked, ¡°Two coppers a pop!¡± Jor fished some coins from his pouch, clinking them into the guy¡¯s hand, and started passing out the syrupy cakes. ¡°New kid perk,¡± he said, tossing one to Rikk with a grin. ¡°We all take turns covering till you¡¯re on your feet. Next newbie¡¯s your turn.¡± Rikk snagged it mid-air, the warm spice hitting his tongue as he bit in. ¡°Man, thanks¡ªI¡¯d be totally screwed otherwise.¡± Cal laughed, wiping sticky fingers on his tunic. ¡°No worries, man. It¡¯s how we roll¡ªkeeps the crew tight.¡± A loud, grating voice sliced through the chatter from a stall nearby, piled high with rune-stones. Torin Duskveil stood there, all broad shoulders and dark gray tunic, his amber eyes glinting as he snatched a stone from a scrawny vendor. Shadows swirled lazily around his fingers, like he was showing off without even trying. ¡°What¡¯s this junk cost?¡± he snapped. ¡°Four coppers, m¡¯lord,¡± the vendor said, his voice shaky as he gripped his crate. ¡°Four?¡± Torin¡¯s lip curled, and he smashed the stone against the stall¡¯s edge. It splintered, bits scattering across the dirt. ¡°Worthless. Either make something decent or crawl back to whatever dump you came from¡ªI¡¯m not wasting my coin on this crap.¡± He shoved past the guy, a cold smirk on his face as he disappeared into the crowd. Rikk¡¯s group went still, watching from a bench lit by a soft rune-glow. Erilyn¡¯s voice came out low, almost tired. ¡°That¡¯s Torin. My cousin. He¡¯s¡­ a lot.¡± Lina snorted, crossing her arms. ¡°A lot? Guy¡¯s a total jackass.¡± Jor grinned, but it didn¡¯t reach his eyes. ¡°Shadow magic and a swelled head¡ªthinks he¡¯s king of the dirt.¡± Kess shrugged, her tone flat. ¡°He kinda is, though. Duskveil name carries weight around here.¡± Rikk¡¯s jaw clenched, his silver eyes narrowing as Torin¡¯s figure faded. Torin¡ªViken¡¯s son, the heir to the shadow that torched his real family. He had no clue Rikk was alive, no hint of the mirror magic coiled inside him, but that sharp-edged cruelty? It was a piece of the Duskveil mess he¡¯d have to deal with someday. Erilyn let out a little sigh, stepping toward the vendor as the dust settled. ¡°Hang on a sec, guys.¡± She crouched down next to the man, who was brushing up the broken bits with trembling hands. ¡°Hey, don¡¯t let him get under your skin. How much for one of these?¡± ¡°Four coppers,¡± the vendor muttered, eyeing her warily. She picked up a stone, letting a flicker of purple mana dance across it¡ªit lit up, steady and warm. ¡°See? It¡¯s good stuff. He¡¯s just got a big mouth.¡± She reached into her pouch, pulling out four coppers and a silver crescent, and pressed them into his hand. ¡°Keep the crescent¡ªsorry he¡¯s such a jerk.¡± The vendor blinked, a small smile breaking through as he tucked the coins away. ¡°That¡¯s kind of you, miss. Thank you.¡± Erilyn walked back, shrugging like it was nothing. ¡°He¡¯s not all bad¡ªjust doesn¡¯t think half the time.¡± Cal raised an eyebrow, smirking. ¡°Yeah, or care. Guy¡¯s a walking storm.¡± Rikk didn¡¯t say anything, the flatcake sitting heavy in his stomach. Erilyn¡¯s kindness didn¡¯t match Torin¡¯s venom, but that Duskveil name tied them together¡ªa thread he¡¯d have to untangle later. He forced a grin, keeping it light. ¡°Guess every group¡¯s got a loose cannon, huh?¡± Stolen story; please report. Lina nudged him with a laugh. ¡°Oh, for sure. Let¡¯s ditch the bad vibes¡ªthis market¡¯s too good to waste on him.¡± They wandered over to a rune-dice stall, the vendor hollering, ¡°One copper a roll¡ªwin three!¡± Jor slapped a coin down, rolling the dice¡ªthey flared orange as they hit, and the vendor cheered, ¡°Winner!¡± tossing him three coppers. Jor grinned wide, flipping one to Rikk. ¡°Your turn, newbie¡ªgive it a go.¡± Rikk caught it, feeling the cool metal in his palm, and rolled. His mana slipped out a bit, the dice glowing silver, but they landed off. The vendor chuckled. ¡°Close one¡ªnext time!¡± The group cracked up, Cal slapping his back. ¡°Almost had it,¡± Vara said, her soft voice cutting through the noise. She sketched a quick yellow rune on her scry-pad and beamed it over to a kid watching nearby. The little guy giggled, chasing the glowing mark as it zipped around. Kess leaned toward a drink cart and asked, ¡°How much?¡± The vendor grinned, ¡°Three coppers.¡± She tapped her scry-pad, the payment zipping through, and handed out the steaming brews. ¡°Here¡¯s to dodging Torin,¡± she said, raising hers, and they all clinked, the sharp tang washing away the tension. They kept moving, haggling as they went¡ªLina asked about a pendant (¡°Ten coppers,¡± the vendor said), paying with a quick tap of her pad; Jor checked a dagger¡¯s price (¡°Five crescents¡±), dropping coins from his pouch. Rikk watched it all, caught up in the flow¡ªsome folks used coins, others swiped scry-pads like it was second nature. His own pouch was empty, his scry-pad just a dumb tool in his pocket. He couldn¡¯t jump in, and it gnawed at him. By noon, they flopped down near a fountain, its rune-water rippling with light. Cal stretched out, yawning. ¡°Alright, let¡¯s split up¡ªmeet back here in a couple hours. I¡¯m hunting rune supplies.¡± Jor hauled himself up. ¡°Food run for me.¡± Lina nodded, twisting a braid. ¡°Gonna grab some gossip for Gran.¡± Kess and Vara headed for a book cart, Erilyn trailing after them. ¡°Catch you later, Rikk!¡± she called, tossing him a wave. He waved back, then sat there alone, the fountain¡¯s hum filling the quiet. Split up¡ªnow what? Coins, scry-pads, this whole system¡ªhe didn¡¯t get it, and admitting that stung. He was supposed to be a prince, but here he was, clueless and broke. A shadow slid over him, and he glanced up. Lysara stood there, her silver eyes catching the light, her cloak blending into the crowd like she¡¯d been part of it all along. ¡°Figured I¡¯d find you here,¡± she said, dropping onto the bench beside him with a small smile. ¡°Having fun?¡± Rikk shrugged, brushing his hair back. ¡°Kinda. Torin was a total jerk¡ªErilyn patched things up after, tipped the guy big. I¡¯m just¡­ I don¡¯t know, out of my depth.¡± Lysara¡¯s smile faded a bit, her eyes sharpening. ¡°Yeah, Torin¡¯s their heir¡ªshadow magic and a temper to match. Steer clear of him if you can. Erilyn¡¯s trickier¡ªshe¡¯s adopted, loyal to them, but not blood. She doesn¡¯t know what they¡¯ve done, not yet.¡± ¡°Feels that way,¡± Rikk said, nodding. ¡°She¡¯s nice¡ªdoesn¡¯t seem like she fits with him.¡± ¡°For now, she¡¯s handy to have around,¡± Lysara said, leaning back a little. ¡°Just don¡¯t lean on her too much till we¡¯re sure where she stands.¡± She reached into her cloak and pulled out a small pouch, coins clinking inside, and handed it to him. ¡°You¡¯re floundering out here. Let¡¯s get you sorted¡ªmoney and mirrors. Come with me.¡± Rikk followed her through the market, weaving past hover-carts and stalls until they hit a plain building tucked behind a rune-smith¡¯s shop. She tapped a rune-lock, the door hissing open, and ushered him into a safe house¡ªstone walls, a scry-screen flickering with maps, a sturdy table with a flat mirror on it. ¡°Too exposed out there,¡± she said, locking the door behind them. ¡°This place is ours¡ªsafe.¡± He plopped down, the pouch heavy in his hands. ¡°I don¡¯t even know where to start with the money stuff. Borrowing from the group¡¯s awesome, but I¡¯m lost.¡± Lysara sat across from him, her tone easy now, like they were just chatting. ¡°They¡¯re looking out for you, and that¡¯s a good thing. Here¡¯s how it works: copper serpents¡ªthose are the little coins with the Duskveil stamp¡ªare the basics. Ten of ¡®em make a silver crescent, and ten crescents make a gold crown. You saw it out there¡ªfood¡¯s usually one or two coppers, a dagger¡¯s around five crescents. Prices shift a bit depending where you are in the kingdom, but that¡¯s the gist. This pouch has bunch of coppers, a few crescents, and a couple of crowns¡ªit¡¯s a small part of your inheritance we managed to stash when your parents went down. For now, stick to coins. Your scry-pad¡¯s not hooked up to a bank yet. We¡¯ll set up a fake account under Rikk Veyn, get it linked up. Next time I swing by, I¡¯ll swap your pad for one that¡¯s tied to it.¡± Rikk hefted the pouch, a grin tugging at his mouth. ¡°This is huge¡ªthanks. I can cover the next newbie now.¡± She smiled back, warm but quick. ¡°Good. Now, let¡¯s talk magic.¡± She slid the flat mirror across the table. ¡°I don¡¯t use mirrors myself¡ªI just worked for your family, picked up the know-how. It¡¯s your blood that makes it sing. Mirrors aren¡¯t just for looking¡ªthey¡¯re doors, ways to see things, real power. Give it a shot¡ªtry to see someone.¡± Rikk grabbed the mirror, his silver eyes locking onto his reflection. ¡°Who should I go for?¡± Lysara tilted her head, thinking. ¡°How about Erilyn? Picture her in your head.¡± He took a deep breath, letting his mana bubble up. The glass fogged over for a second, then cleared¡ªErilyn popped into view, laughing with Kess at the book cart, purple sparks flickering on her fingers. ¡°Whoa, there she is,¡± he said, blinking it away with a shake of his head. ¡°That¡¯s scrying,¡± Lysara said, leaning forward a bit. ¡°It¡¯s basic, but it¡¯s all you. Keep at it, and you¡¯ll be opening portals, seeing farther¡ªbig stuff. The Spire¡¯s mirror cranks it up a notch, but this is a solid start. Oh, and one more thing¡ª¡± She tapped the glass with a finger. ¡°You can use this to get ahold of me through the Spire¡¯s mirror. Just focus, say my name, and leave a message¡ªkinda like those video calls from your old world. I¡¯ll catch it on my end.¡± Rikk gave it a whirl. ¡°Lysara,¡± he said, pushing a little mana into it. The mirror pulsed, recording. ¡°Uh, just testing¡ªhit me back when you can?¡± It dimmed, message sent. ¡°Nice job,¡± she said, nodding. ¡°The Duskveils can¡¯t touch this¡ªmirror magic¡¯s yours alone, tied to the firstborn Aetherian. Keep it under wraps, though¡ªTorin¡¯s wandering around out there, and he¡¯d lose it if he knew.¡± He tucked the mirror and pouch into his pocket, feeling steadier. ¡°Thanks¡ªfor the coins and the lesson. This is awesome. I¡¯m starting to get a handle on things now.¡± Lysara stood up, brushing off her hands. ¡°You¡¯re not as lost as you think. Stick with me¡ªwe¡¯ll keep working on the mirrors, whatever else you need. You¡¯re Raethar Aetheris, even if you¡¯re still Rikk Veyn out here. You¡¯ll grow into it.¡± She headed out, leaving him in the safe house with the scry-screen humming softly. Rikk sat back, rolling a copper serpent between his fingers, its faint gleam catching the light. Torin¡¯s venom, Erilyn¡¯s crescent, the group¡¯s easy warmth¡ªit all spun in his head, but Lysara¡¯s lessons were like an anchor. He¡¯d meet up with the others soon, maybe spend a coin or two, mess with the mirror again. The market thrummed outside, and for the first time, he felt a spark of control¡ªa prince with a pouch and a reflection, starting to find his footing. Chapter Ten: Cracks in the Glass Great, more proof the Duskveils are dicks. Don¡¯t care about their throne, but starving villages? That¡¯s messed up. Mana Flow Piece of cake. Gotta keep it sloppy, though¡ªdon¡¯t need Taryn asking questions. Finally, a spot to breathe. No one¡¯s finding me down here. Like a spy cam, but cooler. What else can this thing do? This is my hideout now. Mirror magic¡¯s my thing¡ªdon¡¯t need a crown to play with it. Relax, probably just some nerd hunting books.
More cracks. Duskveils don¡¯t care who¡¯s hurting¡ªjust keep the coins flowing. Not my circus, not my monkeys. But if it¡¯s screwing people over, maybe I¡¯d care enough to poke at it.