Morning light spilled through the tall stained-glass windows of the Resonance Hall, scattering shards of color across the floor. The tremors from the night before had left everyone restless, but the teachers acted as though nothing had happened.
"Today," Professor Sereaph announced, her mask gleaming faintly,
"you will face yourselves."
The room darkened.
Mirrors unfolded from the walls — tall, ancient, their frames made of a dark crystal that seemed almost alive. The students exchanged wary looks. Even Lumi, perched on Vale's shoulder, gave a low uncertain chirp.
The Trial Begins
One by one, the mirrors awakened. Their glass rippled like water.
Lyra stepped forward first — brave as always.
She saw herself — but not quite.
Her reflection stood in a burning forest of colors, holding a cracked prism in her hands.
The reflection whispered:
"You try to bring light… but does it ever burn what you hold dear?"
Lyra gasped, stepping back — her heartbeat loud in the silence.
Draven watched her, fists tight at his sides.
When his turn came, the hall dimmed further. His mirror showed him kneeling in a ruin of black flames, his hands covered in ash. A whisper coiled from within:
"Power without control destroys… will you let it burn again?"
He tore his gaze away, jaw clenched.
The mirror pulsed once — then went still.
Eira's mirror shimmered next, revealing a frozen meadow. She saw herself trapped beneath ice, reaching toward unseen voices.
"You heal others but forget to breathe yourself,"
the voice said softly.
Her eyes glistened — but she didn't look away.
The Meaning
Professor Seraph's tone softened, almost kind.
"These are not punishments. The mirror shows fragments of your inner color. What you fear, you must learn to trust."
The lights brightened slowly.
Lyra turned toward the others — trembling, but steadier now. "It felt real," she whispered.
Draven nodded. "Maybe it was."
Lumi hopped down, curling its tail around Lyra's wrist.
A faint, soothing glow rippled from it — the violet twinkling again — as if reminding them that not all reflections are meant to break them.
From the balcony above, Headmistress Lys and Professor Seraph Venn watched silently.
Seraph murmured, "They're syncing faster than expected."
Lys's eyes stayed on Draven. "Yes. And the ground beneath is already stirring again."
Night — The Hidden Corridor
Later that night, in the same corridor where the shadow had spoken before, the air trembled again.
The same violet veins along the stone pulsed brighter.
And a whisper - not from one, but whispers of two ancient echoes :
"The keys are waking… six lights… one shadow."
A candle flickered out, and darkness swallowed the corridor whole.