The House Of Mirrors

Chapter 12: The House Of Mirrors

The House of Mirrors loomed ahead, its tall stone walls covered in ivy, windows like dark eyes staring down at the city. It was one of the oldest structures in Black Hollow, long abandoned by nobles and now claimed by those who lived in the shadows. Riven's heart beat steadily in his chest, but there was something unnerving about the house—the air around it seemed to hum with ancient energy, as if the walls themselves held secrets.

Riven glanced over his shoulder. The streets were quiet, and the city's pulse seemed to fade as he moved through the narrow alleyways toward the mansion's front gates. He'd been here before, in his search for answers, but now he had a mission—retrieve the documents the Veil Syndicate wanted and get out.

The Crimson Veil had been clear: complete the task, and you'll gain access to what you need. Failure was no longer an option.

The gates creaked open with a slight push. The courtyard was shrouded in mist, the moonlight barely filtering through the dense fog. As he stepped forward, Riven could feel the weight of the place pressing in on him, the very stone beneath his boots thick with history.

He moved toward the mansion's entrance, where two stone lions flanked the doorway, their eyes like empty sockets. A warning, perhaps. The House of Mirrors was known for its traps, its deadly mechanisms meant to guard its secrets from the outside world.

Riven's breath was steady, and his movements were calculated. This wasn't his first infiltration. His skills had only grown stronger since his rise in the Syndicate, but the mansion felt different. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up. He wasn't just being watched by guards—something else was here.

The doors of the House of Mirrors swung open with an eerie groan, revealing a wide foyer lit by flickering torches. The air inside was thick, like dust had settled over everything—a forgotten place, preserved in time.

Riven's eyes scanned the room. It was far too quiet. No sound but the soft crackling of fire in the hearth. There were no guards in sight.

He approached the first doorway—a long hall, lined with mirrors. As his hand brushed the surface, a sudden click echoed through the air.

Trap.

Before Riven could react, spikes shot up from the floor in a flurry of steel. He ducked just in time, his body moving like water, slipping between the shifting walls. The mirrors around him seemed to twist, the reflections playing tricks on his mind.

Too many traps. Too many illusions. This was a house designed to break anyone who dared step inside.

His senses sharpened. His mind was already calculating the next step, the next move. He had no choice but to continue. His goal was clear: find the vault, get the documents, and get out.

It wasn't long before Riven realized he wasn't alone.

In the mirror, he caught a flicker of movement—a shadow slipping between the reflections.

His pulse quickened.

The rival assassin was here.

Riven's fingers curled around his blade, his eyes narrowing as he looked at his reflection in the mirror. She had been following him—this whole time, she had known he would come here. But why?

He heard a soft footstep behind him, followed by a chill running down his spine. Riven spun around just as she stepped into view, her golden eyes glinting with the same cold amusement.

"You didn't think you were the only one hunting secrets, did you?" she asked, her voice smooth, like velvet over a blade.

Riven's grip tightened on his dagger. "You're after the same thing I am."

She tilted her head. "Not quite." She moved closer, circling him like a predator, but never quite close enough for him to strike.

"You don't understand what's at play here, Shadowborn," she said. "The documents aren't just important—they're a key to something much bigger. Much darker."

Riven's eyes narrowed. He wasn't interested in her riddles. The only thing that mattered now was getting the documents and making sure she didn't walk away with them.

She stepped back, raising her hand, and Riven knew what was coming next. Her daggers flashed in the dim light, the steel gleaming with deadly intent. She wasn't playing anymore.

Riven moved first—Shadow Strike, his blade blurring toward her. But she was ready. She dodged, sliding beneath his strike, and came up with a flurry of quick strikes aimed for his ribs.

Riven twisted away, his mind racing. She was fast. Too fast.

They danced through the mirrors, each movement like a carefully choreographed fight, their blades meeting in mid-air with each attack, each deflection.

But Riven was beginning to see it.

Her rhythm was predictable. Her movements, though swift, followed a pattern. She was testing him—pushing him to his limit.

He had to end it now.

Riven feigned a misstep, allowing her to think she had an opening. When she lunged, he dropped low, her dagger slicing the air above him.

In that split second, his Shadow Chains lashed out, wrapping around her wrist with a sickening crack. The chain tightened, pulling her closer. Before she could react, Riven slashed with his blade, carving through her defenses in one swift motion.

The rival assassin gasped as the blood from her wound splashed across the mirror behind her. She staggered, her golden eyes wide with surprise—a rare sight for someone who was always in control.

Riven stepped forward, his blade poised. He could end it here—but something in his chest clenched. She had been his rival, a mirror of his own skills, but now, he realized just how dangerous she had been.

"I should have killed you the first time," he said, his voice low, almost regretful. "But you were too useful alive."

She smiled weakly, her breath shallow. "Then it seems… we're both… failures…"

Her eyes dulled as she fell to the floor, the life leaving her.

Riven stood over her, the weight of the action settling in. He had killed his rival—the one who had stalked him, tested him, and nearly killed him before. But now, there was a strange emptiness.

He looked down at her body, feeling nothing.

The mission had been a success, but the question remained—what had she been after? What was so important about those documents?

Riven knelt down, retrieving the sealed parchments from her bag, then glanced toward the vault door in the next room. He had to finish what he came for.

END OF CHAPTER 12