"Fantastic," I muttered sarcastically, collapsing wearily onto the mirrored surface, pulse still pounding fiercely, body aching from exertion. But despite my exhaustion, pride flickered quietly within my chest, hope kindling alongside it.
I'd done it. I'd beaten my own twisted reflection at least for now. My breathing gradually steadied, the wild fluttering of my heart slowing to a gentle rhythm. The endless silvery expanse around seed less oppressive, the mist cooler, softer, brushing against my overheated skin in soothing whispers.
[Training Progress Updated.][Magic Control: Increased from 20% → 35%.]
I stared at the notification, relief washing through alongside a thin trickle of apprehension. Thirty-five percent was better, certainly—but it was still barely more than a third of the terrifying power that lurked inside . At least I was slightly less likely to accidentally implode the school, or worse, one of my siblings.
"Any chance we could stop here?" I asked aloud, voice hopeful but already knowing the answer.
[Don't be ridiculous. This is a marathon, not a sprint. You still have a long way to go before you stop being a danger to yourself and the entire world.]
"Encouraging as always."
[You love it.]
I sighed deeply, running a tired hand over my face. My limbs still burned with residual exhaustion, the ache settling bone-deep. "Alright, fine. What's next? More mirrors? An evil twin?"
[Better.] I could practically hear the wicked glee in its tone. [Now, you face your greatest obstacle yet.]
"Let guess—another vague taphor about overcoming myself?"
[Oh no, sothing far more entertaining: your parents.]
My heart lurched. I sat bolt upright, adrenaline jolting through my veins anew. "My parents?"
[Relax, they're not actually here. I'm creating a simulation based on your mories and my observations.]
"Wonderful," I said flatly. "So now you're conjuring nightmares."
[You have strange standards for nightmares. Most children fear monsters under their beds not their own family.]
"My family is worse than monsters," I mumbled.
[That's the spirit! Now, pick one: Verania or Sylvithra?]
I paused, throat suddenly dry. Fighting myself had been difficult enough, but my mothers? Even simulated, even a pale imitation it would be terrifying. Yet deep down, curiosity tugged at . Facing either of them directly was a chance to learn more than just power; it was an opportunity to asure myself against the figures I'd admired, feared, and loved in equal asure.
"Give …Sylvithra," I finally whispered.
[Interesting choice.]
The mist thickened suddenly, swirling furiously, shapes twisting and dancing within it. The silver mirror beneath rippled violently, creating waves of shimring liquid that coalesced into a form achingly familiar. Monts later, Sylvithra stood before radiant, regal, her eyes sharp as polished athyst.
She was perfect. From her elegantly styled silver hair, woven into intricate braids laced with tiny gems, to the fierce intensity of her gaze that could cut through steel, she appeared exactly as I'd always known her beautiful, intimidating, terrifyingly powerful.
My pulse quickened, heart thudding anxiously against my ribcage. It didn't matter if this was rely a projection everything about her felt painfully real.
She raised one eyebrow gracefully, a faint, amused smile curving her lips. "Well, Elyzara, shall we begin?"
I hesitated, fingers twitching uncertainly toward my sword. "This isn't real," I murmured, trying to convince myself more than anything.
Sylvithra's laugh rippled lodically, echoing off unseen walls. "Reality is whatever you perceive it to be. Now, draw your weapon."
My hand closed around the sword's hilt, comforting in its familiarity, the smooth leather cool beneath my fingers. "You're not holding back, are you?"
"Have I ever?" she replied smoothly, amusent clear in her voice. "Now, defend yourself!"
She struck with terrifying speed, her figure blurring as she surged forward, the razor-sharp edge of her blade slicing through the air with effortless precision. I barely parried in ti, tal clashing fiercely, ringing loudly in the empty dinsion.
My muscles scread in protest, still weakened from my earlier battle. Yet, a fierce determination flared to life within . This was my chance not just to survive, but to prove myself worthy.
Our blades danced swiftly, strikes and parries flowing seamlessly into one another, a choreography of lethal precision. Each move she made felt perfectly calculated, every feint and thrust executed flawlessly.
[You're holding back. Stop hesitating!]
I gritted my teeth, frustration mounting. "It's not easy when she looks like my mother!"
[Think of it as a therapy session just more violent.]
I groaned. "Your humor sucks."
Sylvithra moved suddenly, gracefully sidestepping and pivoting smoothly behind . Before I could react, her blade rested gently against the nape of my neck. My breath caught sharply.
"Focus, Elyzara," she said quietly, dangerously. "Emotions can either sharpen your blade or blunt it entirely. Choose wisely."
She released , stepping back, waiting patiently. Embarrassnt flared, but I pushed it aside firmly, channeling my frustration into controlled determination. My magic humd softly beneath my skin, ready and eager.
"Alright," I breathed, raising my sword. "Again."
She smiled approvingly. "Better."
We resud, and this ti I didn't hold back. My blade flashed, bolstered by precise bursts of power lightning arcing dangerously close but carefully controlled, wind swirling protectively around . Each strike felt stronger, surer, my confidence growing alongside my power.
Yet Sylvithra remained unruffled, dodging each attack with casual grace, as if dancing rather than fighting. Every successful parry from was countered effortlessly, each strike perfectly anticipated.
"Your magic is impressive," she remarked coolly, deflecting a bolt of fla with casual ease. "But without conviction, it's rely flashy theatrics."
I felt a surge of annoyance. "I'm trying."
"Then try harder," she retorted sharply. Her magic flared suddenly sharp, precise, brutally efficient as she twisted gravity itself, pinning forcefully to the mirrored surface.
I gasped, lungs compressed painfully beneath the invisible pressure. Panic flared briefly before determination burned hotter. My Abyssal Requiem surged defiantly, rewriting the rules around , nullifying her gravitational hold with sheer will.
I rose shakily, breathing ragged, but my gaze locked firmly with hers, stubbornly defiant. "Satisfied?"
"Almost," she conceded softly, admiration flickering briefly in her eyes. "Now, impress ."
I attacked again, relentlessly this ti, power and precision blending seamlessly, elents twisting obediently under my will. Fire and ice danced harmoniously, shadows and light weaving elegantly together, reality bending and reshaping fluidly at my fingertips. Sylvithra finally appeared genuinely challenged, her movents shifting from effortless grace to focused intensity.
We fought fiercely, tirelessly, our battle raging like a storm, an intense dance of power and strategy. Sweat trickled steadily down my skin, muscles burning fiercely, breaths heaving desperately. But exhilaration surged through , fierce pride swelling alongside my magic.
Eventually, we both stepped back, chests rising and falling heavily, exhaustion mirrored clearly on both our faces.
Sylvithra lowered her blade slowly, approval clear in her gaze. "Better. Much better."
A tired smile curled my lips. "Did I pass?"
She chuckled softly. "Barely. But passing nonetheless."
[Training Progress Updated.][Magic Control: Increased from 35% → 45%.]
My heart swelled with quiet satisfaction. The simulated Sylvithra slowly faded back into shimring mist, leaving alone once more.
[Not bad for soone who nearly destroyed their school earlier.]
I snorted softly, sheathing my sword carefully. "Thanks for the reminder."
[Anyti.]
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