The understanding put Cyril in a complicated mood. Margaret really did as she wished with no holding back. No student dared complain about a mage so powerful as her. Power was everything in this world.
He continued sitting in an enclosed room and, to pass the time, began practicing illusion magic. As he, or Rhamn, was casting the spell, aiming to grow more familiar with it, they discovered something.
This is obviously illusion magic, but I don't think it's Margaret's jealousy.
"I think it's made with lust."
…That would be fitting.
"That must be why it's so easy to see through."
As he focused on the magic present in the room, more and more imperfections began showing up. The fake Rhamn's behavior was somewhat stiff, like he was not interacting with a human but with an unfeeling construct.
To any regular student the imperfections wouldn't matter, as they would be affected by the lust seeped in the illusion and willingly ignore anything abnormal.
This must be Margaret's earlier, less polished work. Maybe from back when she experimented with different emotions?
...This is useful.
Filled with inspiration, Cyril began focusing more, trying to feel the spell's inner workings. It was a perfect opportunity to learn.
As more time passed, fake Rhamn began approaching closer, acting more and more bold. Perhaps the spell's effect intensified with time, or maybe the illusion was frustrated over his lack of reaction.
Though he wasn't tempted still, it did interfere with his self-study.
"What the hell does this fake think she's doing?!"
Though Rhamn cared very much that someone with her form was doing the things they were witnessing.
With a furious face, Rhamn swung her hand at the fake. Her attacks might be intangible, but it would blow off some steam by pretending they landed.
That's what he thought, but a loud slap suddenly echoed in the room as the real Rhamn slapped the fake one on the cheek.
"...!"
Rhamn stood frozen. She looked at her own palm, then at the illusion that was recoiling from pain, then slowly turned to Cyril.
He also stared with shock but quickly recovered.
This illusion must be entirely in my head. So, since you are here too, you can interact.
The corners of Rhamn's mouth twitched, then, ever so slowly, her lips widened into an absolutely ominous smirk. An aura of mischief and maliciousness hung over her.
At this moment, the real one looked more evil than the fake one.
The copy was currently reeling from pain, tears welling up in her eyes.
She stood up and stared accusingly at Cyril. "You really want to hit me?"
"What a cheap, pathetic copy. I need to hit her."
"Copy? What is going on with you?"
The fake from the mirror talked while looking at Cyril, completely ignoring Rhamn approaching with a glint in her red eyes.
It seems the illusion can't differentiate between you and me...
"Then, you are about to show this shameless pretender a world of hurt!"
The fake Rhamn's face paled.
...
Outside of the room of reflection, the situation has changed as well.
As time approached for his 'release,' a few people returned here, creating a small crowd of spectators. They peered at the ominous doors covered in chains, waiting with bated breath.
Rose calmly sat in her little corner, reading with the help of a magic lamp. She would occasionally glance at Myra, who sat in the chair nearby, and sigh.
Myra never noticed it, staring unflinchingly at the door. Her elbows on her knees, she rested her head on her interlocked hands.
Her black eyes nervously stared at the door but also seemingly somewhere in the distance.
Finally, Rose couldn't handle it anymore and closed her book, letting it rest on her knees.
"Myra, why are you so nervous about this?"
The auburn-haired girl snapped out of it, looking at her with a sheepish smile.
"Sorry. I know it's nonsensical, but I just can't help it... Isn't it very scary when a person you know suddenly becomes someone you don't?"
"I guess?" Rose shrugged, somewhat confused.
"Myra, these upperclassmen really only wanted to scare the freshmen. Look, the one who told us that story is even standing right there." She pointed towards a particular spot among the crowd.
There was a collection of students there with ominous faces, observing the door with eerie calmness. Something about their stances appeared almost ritualistic.
"...Is that supposed to make me feel better? They are taking this seriously, too." Myra cautiously mumbled as she stared at them.
Rose sighed in frustration and pointed again, this time to a person standing to the side of the student.
"The guy he was talking about is right there too! He fits the description. See? They are still friends."
Myra focused on the interaction of the two students, on their relaxed stance when near each other. Bizarrely, she did begin feeling better. Her black eyes regained a bit of their energy.
"Finally." Rose nodded with satisfaction.
"Let's be ready when the door opens."
She sent a suspicious glance to the side. "I have a feeling someone will try to meet Cyril ahead of everyone else... You should-"
However, her eyes didn't find that brown-haired girl. She wasn't in her previous spot, nor was she anywhere else around.
Myra tilted her head with confusion, followed her line of sight, then tilted her head a bit more.
"What are you talking about?"
"...Never mind. Forget I said anything."
As Rose muttered to her in confusion, a change finally happened near the door.
An academy staff member walked up towards the door with a straight back. His face was serious as he internally felt nervous. Why were there so many people here? It's as if he was performing some public rite instead of just opening a door...
As the chains rattled, the door slowly opened, revealing the darkness within.
People held their breath, peering inside in silence.
"Let's go." Rose said, putting her book on the windowsill.
She quickly turned around to go with her friend, but found no trace of Myra nearby. She disappeared like a ghost.
"...?"
Rose looked towards the door, and sure enough, she was almost there already.
Myra passed through the small crowd with an impressive display of agility. She was like a master, effortlessly avoiding every other person with minimal distance to spare. In no time at all she stood right in front of the door.
...
Cyril's surroundings went completely dark. The lights were gone, and the sobbing fake Rhamn vanished with them.
The illusion turned off, which meant the allotted four hours had passed.
During this time, they learned plenty more about illusion magic. Filled with inspiration, they also practiced casting it again and again, giving him some of the much-needed experience.
Although these four hours were fruitful, Cyril still took a long sigh of relief when the lights turned off.
The things he'd witnessed here... He really wished he hadn't.
Rhamn's actions really refreshed his understanding of the word 'cruelty.' The discovery that the objects they conjured up as illusions could also interact with the fake made it so much worse.
"Hehehe. Let this be a lesson to all! No one can take my spot!"
At least the real Rhamn looked refreshed.
Ignoring her, Cyril walked towards the slowly opening door, eager to finally get out of here.
As the path outside was revealed, he took a single step, bypassing a certain barrier. Suddenly, he was in the castle's hallway, in front of a small crowd of people, all staring at him like he was the main attraction of a zoo.
"…"