6: The Room With No Reflection
The corridors of Valdris Citadel twisted like a labyrinth shaped by memory and shadows. No path was ever the same twice. Some halls spiraled upward like the trunks of ancient trees, their walls covered in runes that glowed faintly beneath the surface. Others stretched endlessly, lined with tall obsidian mirrors that held no reflections.
Lili walked carefully, her fingertips grazing the cool stone walls. Her legs ached, and the weight of unanswered questions pressed against her chest. Every corner of the Citadel hummed with strange energy. Nothing here felt familiar—not even herself.
Beside her, Elira walked in silence. She moved like someone who had done this before, someone who belonged. Her boots made almost no sound against the stone floor.
Lili glanced at her. “You’ve been here longer, haven’t you?”
Elira nodded. “A while.”
Lili hesitated. “Do you… remember how you got here?”
A pause. Then Elira answered, “Bits and pieces. The truth doesn’t come all at once here. It has to be earned.”
They turned down a narrow corridor. The air grew heavier, thick with the scent of old parchment and something metallic. Faint purple veins glowed overhead. The walls seemed to vibrate softly, like the echo of a heartbeat.
Elira finally spoke again. “How much do you remember? From before.”
“I’m not sure,” Lili admitted. “Sometimes I think I remember my parents, a house… a life. But then it fades. Like it wasn’t real.”
Elira stopped walking. She looked at Lili, not with suspicion, but with something gentler—understanding.
“I felt the same way once.”
Lili let out a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding. “Do you think we ever really had lives before this?”
“I think… we had something. But this world changes you. It rearranges your memories, pulls them apart and puts them back differently.”
They walked a little farther in silence.
“Ezra said I wasn’t real,” Lili said quietly.
Elira raised an eyebrow. “You’ve met her?”
“Only once. She brought me here.”
Elira didn’t respond right away. Her steps slowed. “Be careful with Ezra. She doesn’t lie, but she doesn’t always tell the whole truth either.”
“She didn’t seem… cruel.”
“She isn’t,” Elira said. “But she’s not your friend either.”
They stopped at the mouth of a round chamber. The room had no light source, yet everything was dimly lit. The walls were lined with mirrors, tall and black like still water. Lili approached one, but her reflection was missing.
“They don’t reflect us,” Elira explained. “They reflect what we tried to forget.”
Lili felt a chill. “So we’re supposed to remember something?”
“We’re supposed to face it.”
One of the mirrors shuddered.
Lili took a step back. A shape began to form in the glass—a figure, hooded and still. At first glance, it looked like Ezra.
“Ezra?” Lili whispered.
But the figure changed. The veil peeled away to reveal too many eyes and lips stitched closed. The face contorted into something not quite human.
Elira’s breath caught. “That’s not her. That’s a Lurker.”
The figure pressed a hand against the mirror. The glass rippled like water.
Lili’s chest tightened. Something inside her responded, something deep and frightened.
The Lurker began to whisper.
“Dream-born girl, what did you lose? What did you forget? Let us help you remember.”
Another mirror shattered with a sharp crack. Black tendrils spilled out, twisting toward Lili’s legs.
Elira reacted quickly. She threw a vial from her coat; it burst in golden light, and the tendrils recoiled, dissolving into smoke.
“Come on!” she shouted, grabbing Lili’s hand.
They fled the room. The hallway outside was narrower now, different than before. The Citadel had shifted again.
They didn’t speak for a long time, only walked. Lili tried to steady her breathing.
“I didn’t think it would be like this,” she said eventually. “I thought… I don’t know what I thought.”
“Neither did I, at first,” Elira replied. “The Obscura doesn’t care what you expect.”
Lili glanced over. “Why are you helping me?”
Elira shrugged. “You looked like you needed it.”
Lili smiled faintly. “Thanks.”
That simple exchange made something between them ease—just a little.
“I don’t even know who I am anymore,” Lili confessed, her voice trembling. “I thought I had a life, memories. But now I’m not sure any of it was real. And the way this place feels… like it’s alive and watching—”
“It is watching,” Elira said quietly. “Always. But you’re not alone. Not completely.”
Lili gave a dry laugh. “Somehow, that’s not comforting.”
They turned into another corridor, one lined with ancient tapestries. Each one showed scenes of battles, symbols, and beings with glowing eyes. Lili slowed as she studied them.
“These… are these stories?”
“Histories,” Elira said. “Of others who came before. Some made it. Some didn’t.”
Lili’s gaze lingered on one tapestry that showed a girl standing alone while shadows circled her, claws reaching.
“I don’t want to be like her,” she whispered.
“You won’t be,” Elira said. “You’re already asking questions. That’s the first step.”
Finally, they reached a sealed stone door with strange markings. Elira placed her hand on it. It opened with a low groan, revealing a small, quiet room filled with books and a single chair in the center.
“This is the threshold of the Archive,” Elira said.
Lili stepped inside. She felt like the room was watching her. A low hum filled the air.
“Elira…” she said, her voice soft, “what if I don’t want to remember?”
Elira looked at her carefully. “Then you’ll stay stuck. And this place… it feeds on the stuck.”
Lili walked to the chair and touched its back. A memory flickered—a melody, a field, someone calling her name. It vanished before she could catch it.
She turned to Elira. “Were we… friends? Before?”
Elira gave her a sad smile. “Maybe. Or maybe we’re just starting now.”
The room seemed to breathe around them, whispering fragments of lost thoughts.
“I’m scared,” Lili admitted.
“Good,” Elira replied. “That means you’re still you.”
And as the door shut behind them, the silence wrapped around them like a promise—fragile, uncertain,
but not entirely alone.
Outside, the Citadel whispered their names through its winding halls, waiting to see who they would become.