The passage beyond the sculpture led them into a vast, circular chamber. Aarya stepped cautiously, the air thick with an unfamiliar weight—like the breath of something unseen pressing against her skin. The space was dimly lit, golden sconces casting fractured light across the marble floors. Veer and Rhea followed in silence, watching, waiting.
At the center of the room stood an obsidian mirror, its surface rippling like liquid midnight.
“The third trial,” Rhea announced, her voice softer this time, reverent. “To move forward, you must face your truth. The mirror does not reflect appearances—it reflects what lies beneath.”
Aarya hesitated. She had come this far, carved pieces of herself into the trials before her, but this—this was different. Facing her past was one thing. Facing herself? That was something else entirely.
Veer spoke, voice gentle. “Whatever it shows you, don’t fight it. Accept it.”
Aarya swallowed and stepped forward. The mirror pulsed, the air shifting around her. And then, it revealed her.
Not as she was now, but as a child—small, wide-eyed, standing in the doorway of her mother’s studio, staring at unfinished paintings that never got signed. The little girl in the reflection turned, searching, but her mother was not there. She had never been there when Aarya needed her most.
Pain flickered in her chest.
The image blurred, shifting. Now she saw herself older—wandering the city alone, clutching a notebook filled with sketches she could never show anyone. She had spent so much of her life chasing shadows, longing for a connection that had always been just out of reach.
Her fingers curled into fists.
Then, the mirror shifted again.
Her mother appeared.
Not the memory of her, but something different—eyes solemn, expression unreadable. Aarya gasped, stepping back, but the image remained. The mirror whispered with echoes of a voice she had long tried to remember.
“You were never lost, Aarya.”
The words struck her like lightning.
Then, the mirror shattered.
Glass fragments evaporated before they could hit the ground, and before her stood another doorway, veiled in golden light. Aarya turned to Veer, breathless, uncertain.
He reached for her hand, squeezing lightly. “You found your truth. Now, keep going.”
Aarya nodded, the weight of her past settling—but not suffocating. She had faced it. She had accepted it.
And now, she was ready for whatever came next.
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