Scene 1 – Entering the Chamber
The transition was like stepping through liquid glass. The walls around Jemil and his wives rippled, their reflections caught and multiplied until it seemed like a hundred versions of themselves marched beside them. The chamber was vast, circular, every surface polished like obsidian mirrors.
A faint silver mist curled along the floor, carrying with it whispers that seemed to come from nowhere—and everywhere.
"Why do you follow him?" one whisper hissed from a reflection of Nyra, her eyes colder, sharper.
"Why do you still fight?" another sneered, coming from a mirror of the swordmaster herself.
Jemil's pulse quickened. He could feel the curse burning against his skin, the mark flaring faintly with golden heat as though reacting to the illusions. His wives shifted closer, each of them tensed, each reflection showing something slightly wrong—a crueler smile, a darker shadow in the eyes, a twisted posture.
