Page 47 of A Touch of Madness

Viago smirks, a sharp, humorless expression. “Overconfidence. They thought their dark magic was impenetrable. A fatal mistake.”

“It’s not overconfidence,” Ravenna counters, her eyes narrowing. “It’s arrogance tied to something more sinister. There’s a chance this isn’t their strongest bastion. Perhaps they didn’t think we’d come for the Mirror—or perhaps they wanted us to.”

Her words send a chill down my spine as I stare at the relic glowing faintly on the pedestal. Even with the beasts and the figure guarding it, there’s a hollowness to their defense, a sense of something waiting just beyond this moment. The power thrumming through the air is undeniable, but Ravenna’s suspicions cling to me like shadows.

Before we can approach, a new figure steps from the shadows. They’re taller than the others, their robes more elaborate and their presence suffused with a dark, commanding energy. The air grows colder as they lift a hand, and the torches dim.

“You fools. You shouldn’t have come here,” the figure says, their voice echoing unnaturally. “The Mirror does not belong to you.”

Lucian steps forward, his blade at the ready. “It doesn’t belong to you either. It belongs to the witches, and they’re here to get it back.”

The figure laughs, a cold, hollow sound. “Beasts. You think you can simply take it? Prove yourselves, then.”

The chamber erupts into anarchy as the figure summons dark constructs—hulking, shadowy beasts that lunge toward us with inhuman speed. The beasts are massive, their forms shifting and writhing like living shadows, their glowing red eyes fixed on us with predatory intent. Each step they take shakes the ground, and their guttural snarls echo through the chamber.

The first beast charges at Dorian, its claws raking the air with a sound like tearing metal. He ducks and rolls, slashing upward with his blade. The creature howls as the steel bites into its form, but instead of dissipating, it lunges again, faster and angrier. Vada joins him, her dagger flashing as she plunges it into the beast’s side, the enchanted blade burning its shadowy flesh.

To my left, Ravenna and the elders unleash a barrage of magic, their combined spells weaving through the air like threads of light. One of the constructs staggers as a bolt of energy strikes its chest, but it quickly recovers, retaliating with a swipe of its massive claw. Rebecca deflects the attack with a shimmering barrier, but the force of the blow sends her stumbling backward.

Nicole screams as another beast leaps toward her, its jaws snapping. Lucian intercepts it mid-air, driving his blade into its neck. The creature roars, its body twisting unnaturally as it tries to shake him off, but he holds firm, wrenching the blade free in a spray of inky darkness that splatters the ground.

“They’re drawing power from the figure!” Ravenna shouts, her voice strained as she fends off another beast. “We need to cut off their connection!”

Another construct charges at me, its glowing eyes locking onto mine. My heart pounds as I summon a burst of magic, hurling it forward. The beast stumbles, its form flickering, but it doesn’t stop. It swipes at me with a massive claw, and I barely dodge in time, the force of the blow sending me sprawling to the ground. Before it can strike again, Kristoff appears, his blade flashing as he drives it into the creature’s back. The beast howls, collapsing into a puddle of shadowy discharge.

“Sylvie!” Ravenna calls, her voice cutting through the chaos. “We need you to disrupt their connection to the Mirror!”

I nod, forcing myself to focus. My hands tremble as I channel my energy, reaching toward the Mirror. The figure notices and turns their attention to me, their magic striking toward my chest. I barely dodge in time, the force of the attack sending me sprawling.

“Stay on her! Protect her!” Lucian shouts, blocking another creature as it lunges for me.

I gather my strength, my heart pounding as I reach for the Mirror again. This time, I feel it—a connection, faint but growing. The relic hums in response, its surface flaring with light as I pour my magic into it. The moment my fingers brush the Mirror, a surge of raw energy shoots through me, powerful and unrelenting. My knees buckle, and I collapse to the ground, clutching the relic tightly in my hands as the world spins around me.

The figure screams, their control over the creatures faltering, and I push harder, the strain nearly unbearable. My limbs feel heavy, like I’m being pulled under water, but I refuse to let go. The Mirror’s power pulses through me, wild and chaotic, filling every corner of my being. My vision blurs, and a sharp pain pierces through my chest, but still I hold on.

“Sylvie!” Ravenna’s voice is distant, muffled, like she’s calling to me from the end of a long tunnel.

The connection shatters with a deafening burst of light. The constructs dissolve into nothingness, their forms unraveling like smoke in the wind. The figure staggers, their strength drained, and collapses to their knees, defeated. My body goes limp, and the only thing anchoring me to reality is the cold surface of the Mirror pressed against my palms.

Hands grip my shoulders, steadying me. Lucian’s voice cuts through the haze, soft but urgent. “Sylvie, are you all right?”

I nod weakly, unable to speak. My breath comes in shallow gasps, and every muscle in my body feels like it’s been stretched too far. The Mirror’s power still hums faintly in my hands, subdued but potent, like a storm waiting to be unleashed.

“We have it,” Ravenna says, her voice tinged with relief as she steps closer. She looks at the Mirror, her expression unreadable. “But the cost...”

Lucian’s hand lingers on my arm as he helps me to my feet. “You did it, love,” he says softly, his eyes searching mine for some sign of reassurance.

I manage a small nod, my fingers tightening around the Mirror. The chamber falls silent, save for the crackling of the torches and the sound of our labored breathing. And as I look down at the relic in my hands, its surface swirling with shadows and light, I can’t help but wonder if we’ve won… or if this is only the beginning.

The weight of the Mirror of Thorns feels as though it’s shifted the air itself. Sylvie stands unsteadily, the relic clutched in her trembling hands, her chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. The wild hum of magic surrounding her has settled, but its presence still lingers, a storm subdued but not dispelled.

“We need to leave,” Ravenna says sharply, her gaze darting toward the corridor we came through. “The stronghold’s defenses might be faltering, but Solstice reinforcements won’t be far behind.”

She’s right. The remnants of the battle linger around us—blood, scorched stone, and the faint stench of magic burned raw. Yet the fight is far from over. I step closer to Sylvie, my hand brushing her arm.

“We’re moving out,” I tell her. “Stay close to me.”

I glance at Ravenna and the elders, their faces lined with fatigue but focused. "She won’t make it back through the woods in this condition," I say, nodding toward Sylvie, who sways slightly on her feet. "She needs strength, and none of us can carry her without jeopardizing our defenses. Can you do something? A spell? Anything to keep her moving."

---