Sustaining The King's Life 120 The Mirror Of Lies

That word rung into Faustina's ears as the cyclops unleashed a howl, similar to that of a beast being slaughtered. Its voice had a cacophonous tone, blaring into their ears that had reverberated into the vast corners of the upside-down chamber. Faustina was unable to move at that moment, let alone breathe. All of them were frozen in the spot, but Faustina was able to recover much quicker. She had seen real horrors. This cyclops was nothing compared to those!

"Run!"

The mages ran in panic upon seeing the cyclops' morning star slowly being lifted once more. The monster had just picked his weapon to the ground and begun hurling it down to the students. It movements were slow, yet the weapon he held was deadly enough. One second they were much slower, and one wrong move, it would have been game over.

"Move, move!" Exclaimed Anakin, pushing whoever comes his way. He ran as fast as he could, eyes only pinned ahead; never looking back to the monster trailing behind. He had his body feeling the cold fear, and he couldn't even stop running even if he wanted to. It wasn't his fault that he was THIS scared. The monster was simply terrifying. And he did not sign up for this, anyway! He was supposed to be doing some head on a desk kind of exam, but here he was. Running in a G.o.d-forsaken chamber!

The pointed metal ends of the morning star grazed upon the concrete, letting out an ear-splitting noise. The morning star was an old club-like weapon that had a shaft with an attached ball adorned with one or more spikes. It clearly intimidated everyone else, considering they were all sheltered n.o.bles that didn't have any battle experience. And like any other sane person, Anakin wanted to run more - somewhere further away from the monster.

Anakin's thoughts were set into something: He had to escape the cyclops.

And yet he was stopped short by . . . himself?

Anakin sees himself running towards him, like that of running to a twin—and with a thud, Anakin Disfiegro had b.u.mped into a cold surface.

Gla.s.s.

Anakin slowly turned back. It was a while before he had looked ahead. And then, like that of a child meeting his fears, Anakin Disfiegro sees that he had led himself to a mirrored chamber. There was no one else behind him but himself—in different angles, different parts of his body, all broken down into pictures.

Anakin tasted the bitter pang of copper inside his mouth. He had bit his lips too hard that it bled. Terror washed over him; emotions that were regarded as unpleasant began flooding the entirety of his system. Anakin slowly took several steps backward, his sweaty palm reaching to touch the mirror behind him. But then—as strange as it may have been—the mirror disappeared—no, not just the mirror. The entire chamber he had entered vanished entirely, and then as the s.p.a.ce disappeared into obscurity, Anakin began to fall.

When Anakin reopened his eyes he was running again. The cacophony of the morning star had taken him back to reality. Was he hallucinating? Anakin continued to run despite the calls of the people around him. To Anakin, they were white noise. Why should he look back? He was too scared to even look back! He had seen a chamber filled with mirrors, he was certain of it. Yet he was running now, trying to make his escape. He couldn't look back. He was too afraid to have the scenery change again.

THUD.

". . . Heh. So this is what you call examinees?" Says a familiar voice, which then followed another sonorous thump into the concrete. Before Anakin, was a dead cyclops lying unto the floor, its face roasted into a spit. Ashes fell into the sides as its burnt face smeared a dark mark over the floors.

Anakin glances to the woman with a fiery red hair, c.o.c.king a brow as she steps into the cyclops' head, and then blows the nonexistent steam off her staff. She smirked at Anakin, looking down at him with shrill ridicule.

"This is just the first level," she mockingly exclaimed. "But you're all freaking out like babies."

**

Faustina panted as her eyes fell into the fallen cyclops. A girl's heel was now on its burnt head, her arms crossed as she held her chin eye. Her emerald-green eyes looked down on them as her fiery, wavy hair swayed along with the breeze. Soon she left the cyclops and then headed to Anakin. She pa.s.sed by Faustina and gave her a look, but then after that, she completely ignored her existence.

The girl propelled an arm forward, extending her hand towards the fallen Anakin. He reluctantly accepts, but both of them returned each other with a smile afterward. It wasn't any kind of smile that had marked veracity or genuineness. It was the rehea.r.s.ed smile of a n.o.ble.

"Thank you for your help, Ms. Fortu—"

"Hold it right there," says the woman. "Just call me Claire. I hate being called by my last name."

"ah, yes, Claire," says Anakin. "Looks like you're going to be in the first Ianua!"

Although Anakin praised her, his face looked strained.

He was forcing himself.

"anyway. Looks like the monster's been defeated. Maybe we're going to move forward to the second level now?"

"Isn't that a bit too far-fetched? I mean, a single spell took it down. I don't think they'll let us off as easy as that."

"Yeah, I think so too. Considering this is called 'The Mirror of Truth,' maybe we have to solve some kind of riddle or something that connects to that t.i.tle."

"Right. I think it may be also a reflection about something. Could be some illusory monsters of some sort."

"Right. So maybe it would be safe to not stall and just move forward?"

Anakin wasn't able to keep up. They were now being intelligible in every pa.s.sage. Just how could this be, considering that they were just silent before? Anakin felt left out. The same feeling he had when he was on the Disfiegro Household. The sense of not belonging. He felt like he ought to speak up and join their theories. But he wasn't having any idea of his own. 'The Mirror of Truth'? To h.e.l.l with that.

**

Faustina watched Anakin being—as peculiarly bizarre as it may seem—silent. He had sealed his mouth shut after the n.o.bles decided to explore more of the chambers, focusing on where mirrors could be found. The chambers were dark, yet the floating mirrors reflected what seemed like light to the surface.

The place was still upside-down, and the more they get deeper into it, the more they see how the whole enchilada seemed to be warped. The entire vicinity was void of anything threatening, other than the disturbing aura it emanated.

Soon they had reached a certain door, similar to that of the entrance.

"The Mirror of Lies." One of the students read, "well . . . what now?"

"It was completely out of the theory spectrum,"—a pause—"but we'll be venturing nonetheless."

The doors opened into a room chockfull of mirrors. Each corner was covered with irregular-shaped mirrors that displayed each and every face of the students. Faustina felt apprehensive as they all entered the room. It was strangely familiar, and it held a foreboding atmosphere Faustina couldn't quite explain.

"Who is it that came to know the lies?"

"D-did you guys hear that?"

"Y-yeah,"

"Who's that?"

Faustina and the students heard the same voice. A voice belonging to an elderly woman, with the accent of a gypsy. It was ringing in every side of the chambers, making it hard to find the source once and for all.

"You? You? Or you? Or . . . you?"

Faustina stopped by one mirror holding her reflection.

Her eyes widened as she sees her face—no, her whole appearance.

Her black hair, and her same tattered clothes the night her master died.

Faustina began to back away from her image, but it started to walk closer towards her. Faustina knew this should be some kind of trick. Something that would make her believe an event that isn't really occurring. Faustina knew to herself that the chambers were named like that for a reason. It was named 'The Mirror of Lies.' And they were within 'The Mirror of Truth' for another purpose as well. Faustina wasn't an idiot. She knows.

Right?

But why? Why can't she take her eyes off the mirror? Why can't she take her eyes off the artifice being created by the dungeon? She should do it now. It wouldn't help her to stall right now! But when Faustina tried to avert her gaze from the mirror, she found something that had horrified her more.

Faustina notices her grey hair and appearance gradually changing, slowly resembling that of the one in the mirror. Her grey hair now began to turn black as night, as her uniform slowly vanished and transpose into her usual clothes back when she was at the cabin.

Faustina's lips trembled. This must be a trick. An illusion.

Faustina kept on convincing herself that this wasn't real—that she wasn't found out. That the magic Sheila had cast upon her did not vanish. Faustina kept to her mind that it was a clairvoyant who had her ident.i.ty concealed. She shouldn't be found out easily, right?

"Ah yes, you." Says the gypsy, stopping Faustina to her tracks as she met her chocolate-colored eyes in the mirror.

"You are the liar amongst the pure."