I’d Rather Take a Quiz

Cassian shot her a side-eye, clearly debating whether to respond, but before he could, Variel stopped in front of an ornate, towering door. Twisting serpents coiled along its frame, their polished obsidian eyes gleaming with an eerie light.

"This," Variel murmured, lowering her voice as if the walls themselves were listening, "is where your training begins."

With a slow, deliberate push, she swung the door open, revealing a dimly lit chamber. The air inside was thick, heavy. At the far end of the room, an elaborate mirror stood—its surface shifting, rippling like disturbed water.

Arctha squinted. "What's with the creepy mirror?"

Then, half-jokingly, she thought to herself: Mirror, mirror… aren't I the fairest of them all?

She wasn't expecting an answer.

Yet, her gauntlet chimed in her head: "No, not you. But you are as vain as them all."

She blinked, looking around like nothing had happened, though Cassian caught the flicker of confusion and smirked.

"Testing your reflection?" he murmured.

Variel swept into the room, graceful as a predator, her students trailing behind. Their footsteps were muffled by thick, embroidered rugs. She gestured for them to gather around her at the room's center.

"You are here to learn how to wield power," she said, her voice measured, commanding. "Not just magic, but your mind, your influence, your very presence. These are weapons—just as dangerous as any sword or spell."

Arctha barely suppressed an eye roll. "Right. I'll just power up my 'influence' and make my problems disappear."

Variel's gaze flickered toward her. "Precisely." She smiled faintly. "If you can master control over yourself, you will wield true power over others."

That made a few students straighten up. Some nodded, as if finally getting it. Others, hungry for any edge, leaned in.

Arctha's fingers twitched. That strange static charge was back—stronger this time. Calling to something.

Her eyes drifted to the mirror.

Variel's next words sent a chill through the air.

"Those who wish to claim a place in Viperthorn must pass the Trial of Reflection."

Arctha stiffened. Excuse me?

"What does that even mean?" she asked. "And hold on—I was told we had a month before any major tests. W3aver, are you just running out of ideas on how to build suspense?"

"It's simple," Variel replied, ignoring her comment. "Step into the mirror and face the reflection of your true self. You will be tested. Those who fail… may find themselves trapped."

Silence.

Even Cassian, who had been casually leaning against the doorframe, straightened.

Arctha narrowed her eyes at the mirror. What happened to magic safety hazards?

This wasn't The Absurdly Arcane Bus where students got whisked away to weird adventures without parental permission.

The mirror shimmered as if listening, waiting.

The first student—a pale girl with striking green eyes—hesitated before stepping forward. Trembling fingers brushed against the glass. The surface flickered.

Arctha's skin prickled.

For a brief second, the reflection wasn't a reflection at all.

The girl inhaled sharply. She stepped forward… and the mirror pulled.

A gasp escaped her as she stumbled back, but it was too late. The glass wasn't releasing her. It was absorbing her.

"Sylvia!" someone shouted.

Her reflection—no, the thing in the mirror—dragged her in, limbs jerking, an invisible force yanking her through.

Variel watched, unmoved. Cold. Calculating.

Another student lunged forward, but before they could reach her—

Snap.

Sylvia was gone.

Silence swallowed the room.

Arctha swallowed. "Okay. So… not just a regular mirror, then. Not like the one I have at home."

Variel turned, golden eyes gleaming. "Each of you will step forward. One at a time. The mirror reveals who you are… and who you could be. But be warned—it does not show mercy."

A tall, dark-haired boy—confident, almost smug—stepped forward without hesitation.

"This is insane," Arctha muttered.

Cassian glanced at her. "You don't have to do it."

"Right," she said dryly. "I'll just sit back and watch everyone else get trapped in their own reflections. No big deal."

Cassian didn't argue. He just watched as the boy pressed his hand against the mirror.

For a moment, nothing happened. Then—

The reflection twisted.

The boy's cocky smirk warped into something wrong. His features sharpened, darkened—his own shadow grinning back at him.

Then—crack.

The mirror shattered outward.

Glass flew.

The boy screamed.

And then—he was gone.

Arctha's heart slammed against her ribs. "Okay, no. Not today."

She stepped back—right into Cassian.

He had the same idea.

"Not my problem," she muttered, already turning. "I'm just here for the ride."

Cassian exhaled, clearly considering his exit strategy. "You think we can just leave?"

"Watch me," she shot back, striding toward the door.

Her gauntlet shimmered with violet light, and as she brushed past a nearby table, something shifted—one of the magical tools teetered dangerously.

A system alert flashed in her mind: Accidental Magical Enchantment Activated.

A sword slid from its stand, tipping toward the floor.

Cassian caught it midair, gripping the hilt as if it had been made for him. The blade pulsed faintly, an ominous glow rippling through its edge.

His expression stayed neutral. Just another magical tool, no big deal. Totally fine.

Variel's voice cut through the moment like a blade.

"You won't escape that easily, Arctha Vana Quindiesel."

Arctha froze mid-step.

Her full name. Spoken with deadly certainty.

In that moment, her mind didn't race—it sang.

The mirror glows in the training hall tonight,

Not a student dares to try—

A trial's looming, I don't like it,

Think I'd rather say goodbye!

Her gauntlet hummed, buzzing a warning,

Yeah, it's telling me to run,

But Variel's smirking—

Guess my suffering's begun!

Don't step too close, don't make a sound,

Too late—I think it's pulling off the ground!

I need an out, I need a door…

But NOPE—it's locked! I'm done for!

Let me go! Let me go!

I am NOT the chosen one!

This is low! This is low!

Magic school was meant for fun!

I don't care what the teachers say—

I won't get trapped today!

This is dumb, this is wrong,

Who thought this test would make us strong?!

Forget my grade, I'd rather live!

Can't we just take a quiz?!

Her blood ran cold.

Then reality snapped back into focus. She wasn't in a musical. There was no orchestra, no chorus backing her up—just silence.

Variel smiled. "Your reflection awaits."

Arctha's fingers twitched, static humming in her gauntlet. This was getting way more complicated than she had signed up for.

Then, from the back of her mind, the system chimed in:

"Why did the magic mirror break up with the princess?"

Arctha blinked. What?

"Because it couldn't handle the reflection of their relationship!"

A pause. Then—

"I mean, witch."

It corrected itself, repeating: "Because it couldn't handle the reflection of their relationship!"

Arctha let out a slow, exhausted breath.

She was either about to die… or this was going to be the most ridiculous day of her life.

Either way, she wasn't ready