The door opened slowly this time. No blast of rage, no trembling hinges. Instead, a hush spread across the hall, the lanterns dimming to a cautious glow.
Lyra's breath caught. After the storm of the last soul, the silence felt heavier, like a trap waiting to be sprung.
A woman stepped through. She was slender, graceful, her long hair flowing around her shoulders. Her gown shimmered with a beauty that seemed out of place in the shadowed hall. Her lips curled into a soft smile, and her eyes—dark, glimmering, alive with calculation—swept across the chamber.
"Well," she said smoothly, her voice like silk. "What an enchanting place. So full of secrets."
Lyra shivered. This woman carried no weapon, no scars, no blood. Yet something about her felt more dangerous than the killer before.
Kaelen spoke, his tone as even as ever. "You stand in the Hall of Judgment. Here, the truth of your life will be revealed."
The woman tilted her head, smiling wider. "Truth? My dear, the truth is whatever people believe. And I was very good at making them believe."
Her words sank into Lyra like poison. She tightened her grip on the counter, watching warily.
The silver mirror formed beside Kaelen, glowing faintly. Its surface quivered, as though even it hesitated to reflect her.
The woman's smile deepened. "Ah, a mirror. How fitting. I have always loved mirrors. They tell you what others wish to see."
Kaelen's expression did not change. "This one does not bend. It shows what was."
"Then let it show," she said softly. "Perhaps I will enjoy the memories."
The mirror stirred.
A little girl appeared. Her face was angelic, framed with dark curls. She clutched a doll close to her chest, her eyes wide with innocence. But even then, her lips carried the faintest curve of a smile too practised, too knowing.
Lyra leaned forward. "She looks so sweet."
The woman chuckled. "I was. Sweet enough to fool anyone."
The image shifted. The girl, now older, hid behind a doorway as two servants whispered. She slipped forward quietly, repeating their secrets to her mother, weaving words to turn suspicion upon one another. By the week's end, one servant was dismissed in disgrace.
Lyra gasped. "She lied. She lied just to…"
The woman finished her thought. "…just to see if I could. And I could. It was delicious."
Kaelen's eyes darkened. "You tasted power and wanted more."
"Of course I did." She spread her hands gracefully. "What is life without power? Without control?"
The mirror shifted again.
The woman stood at a lavish table now, surrounded by family. Her words dripped with sweetness, yet beneath them lay barbs. She praised one sibling while cutting down another. She sowed jealousy, whispered rumours, and smiled as the family fractured.
Lyra pressed a hand to her chest. "Why? They were your family."
The woman's smile widened, almost gleaming. "Because it was so easy. Because watching them turn against each other made me feel alive. I did not need a blade when my words did the work for me."
The mirror did not stop.
The woman grew into adulthood, more beautiful, more polished. Suitors came to her, enchanted by her charm. She played them against one another, making them jealous, desperate, and willing to give anything for her favour. One fought another in the streets and died. She laughed behind her hand, calling it romance.
Lyra whispered, her voice breaking. "You killed without touching them."
The woman's gaze snapped to her, sharp as glass. "I never killed anyone. They chose. They were weak. I gave them the spark. They set themselves on fire."
Kaelen's voice was low, controlled. "You knew what your words could do. And you chose to wield them like a blade."
The woman leaned closer, her smile soft as silk. "And what of it, Judge? Did I not live as others live? Do kings not command men to kill for them? Do priests not sway crowds with sermons? Words are the sharpest weapon in the world. I only mastered them."
The mirror pulsed again.
She sat in a grand chamber, whispering into the ear of a lord. He nodded, then signed a decree that sent soldiers into a village. The screams that followed were not hers, but they belonged to her whispers. Fields burned. Families starved. And she sat by the fire, sipping wine.
Lyra's tears flowed freely now. "You ruined lives. Entire villages, for what?"
The woman shrugged delicately. "For position. For comfort. For pleasure. Why should I not? Others would have done the same, had they my beauty, my wit."
Kaelen's voice cut through her words. "You clothed cruelty in elegance. You turned lies into chains. You destroyed not with rage, but with cold delight."
The mirror shifted again, showing her final years. The woman was older, her beauty still striking, though lined with age. She sat alone in a jewelled chair, jewels on her fingers, silk on her body. Around her stretched silence. The suitors were gone. The family she had broken had vanished or turned against her. Servants feared her, obeyed her only because of the coin.
She reached for a hand, but none came. She whispered for company, but no voice answered. Her last breath left her lips with only a smile, as if even death itself was another game to be played.
The mirror dimmed.
Silence filled the hall.
Lyra trembled, her voice small but fierce. "You never loved anyone. You never cared. You only used them."
The woman turned to her, eyes glittering with cruel amusement. "Love is just another trick, my dear. A lie people tell to keep from being alone. I preferred honesty in my lies."
Lyra's voice broke. "You left the world emptier than you found it. That is worse than killing."
The woman's smile softened. "Perhaps. Or perhaps I simply understood the truth before anyone else did. The world is a stage, and those who act best win."
Kaelen raised his hand, shadows stirring. "Your time is done."
The woman tilted her head, her smile never faltering. "Then judge me, if you can. But know this—my words will echo long after I fade."
The shadows surged, wrapping around her slender form. She did not fight. She did not scream. She only smiled, even as the darkness consumed her, her voice trailing into silence like the hiss of a serpent.
The hall grew still again.
Lyra leaned against the counter, trembling. "Kaelen… she chilled me more than the killer did. He had fire, but she… she was ice. And I could feel it. She would have twisted me, too, if she had the chance."
Kaelen's gaze lingered on her, steady and watchful. "The flames of rage burn fast, but the venom of deceit spreads deeper. Both destroy. Both stain the world. And both find their way here."
Lyra shuddered, wiping her tears. "I hate her words. They sounded so sweet, but they cut like knives."
Kaelen nodded. "That is why you must listen, but not believe. Some souls speak only to wound, even when they smile."
The far door pulsed again, waiting.
Lyra straightened, her hands still trembling but her voice firmer. "Then let the next one come. I will not let her poison linger."
Kaelen's eyes glimmered, almost approving. "Then you are learning."
The hall grew silent once more.