Chapter 4 · free to read
Beneath the Hall of Ten Thousand Mirrors lay a hall no one polished. I followed the whisper down into the dark the sect had forgotten.
There it was — the first mirror. The vessel before the vessel. The glass they poured her dying reflection into.
At last she spoke — gentle, ancient, and heavy with a sorrow a hundred years deep.
Not slain by an enemy. Betrayed at her own welcome-feast, by the sect that smiled and called her honored guest.
Artwork and narration generated with AI.