Scene 1 – Aftershocks of the Mirrors
The chamber of fractured reflections sealed itself behind Jemil and his wives, the mirrored shards dissolving into black mist. Their footsteps echoed down a silent stone corridor, but the weight of what they'd just endured clung to them. Each wife carried the memory of her reflection—the twisted doubts, the unspoken fears—but none more heavily than the swordmaster.
Her grip was white-knuckled around her blade. Not from readiness, but from restraint. Her reflection's accusations still rang in her mind: You will always betray… you cannot hold both the sword and a heart.
Jemil slowed his pace to walk beside her. His presence was steady, almost irritatingly calm. "You fought well," he said softly.
The swordmaster gave no reply, only tightened her grip until her knuckles strained pale. She wanted to dismiss his words, but something inside her wavered.
