The path toward the Eternal Mirror stretched endlessly before Riven. Glass structures towered around him, their frozen beauty hiding the eerie truth of the trapped souls within. Their reflections—wild, restless, and full of anguish—seemed to watch him with every step he took.

Despite the silence, Riven felt the heavy presence of the Void pressing closer. It wasn’t just in the air or the ground beneath him—it was in his chest, clawing at the edges of his thoughts. He tightened his grip on his sword, his knuckles white.

“You can do this,” he muttered to himself. His voice sounded small against the weight of the kingdom’s desolation.

But could he? The reflection’s words lingered, cutting deeper than any blade. You’re broken. You don’t even know what you’re fighting for.

The next stretch of the path led him into a narrow street, where the walls of the buildings seemed to close in around him. The glass here was cracked, and faint whispers filled the air, tugging at his ears like ghostly fingers.

At first, Riven thought the voices were random, incoherent. But as he walked further, the whispers began to take shape.

“Why didn’t you save us?” a woman’s voice asked, sharp and accusatory.

“You promised you’d protect me,” a child’s voice followed, trembling with betrayal.

Riven froze, his heart hammering in his chest. The voices felt familiar, as if they’d come from the fractured memories that had surfaced during his fight with the reflection.

“No,” he whispered, shaking his head. “This isn’t real.”

But the whispers grew louder, the words cutting through his defenses.

“You let us die!”

“You abandoned us!”

Riven fell to his knees, his breath coming in short, panicked gasps. The sword trembled in his hand, its glow flickering as if reflecting his inner turmoil.

“Stand up.”

A calm, steady voice cut through the noise like a lifeline. Riven looked up to see a figure stepping out from the shadows of the alley.

It was a woman, her form faintly translucent like the boy’s but more solid, more grounded. She was tall and carried herself with a quiet strength, her piercing green eyes locking onto his.

“You’re letting the Void get into your head,” she said, her tone firm but not unkind. “That’s exactly what it wants.”

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Riven struggled to his feet, his legs shaky. “Who are you?”

The woman crossed her arms, studying him for a moment before speaking. “My name’s Lyra. I used to be part of this kingdom, back before the curse. And you must be the Custodian everyone’s whispering about.”

“You’ve been watching me?”

“Not watching,” Lyra corrected, stepping closer. “I’ve been waiting. I wanted to see if you were strong enough to make it this far. Most people... they don’t.”

Riven glanced at the cracked glass around him, where faint, shadowy forms moved in the reflections. He realized with a shudder that they weren’t just prisoners—they were people who had tried to fight the curse and failed.

“What do you mean, they don’t make it?”

Lyra’s expression hardened. “The Void feeds on fear, guilt, and doubt. It twists them, makes you believe things that aren’t true. Most who try to reach the mirror end up becoming part of it. Like them.” She gestured to the reflections, who writhed and clawed at the glass.

Riven swallowed hard. “Then why haven’t you been taken?”

Lyra smirked, a touch of bitterness in her eyes. “Let’s just say I’m not fully alive anymore. The Void doesn’t care about people like me—it’s too busy hunting down the living.”

Lyra turned away and began walking toward the spire. “Come on. If you’re serious about breaking the curse, I’ll help you get there. But you’ll have to hold your ground when things get worse.”

Riven hesitated. He wasn’t sure if he could trust her—after all, she was part of this cursed world. But he didn’t have many options, and the thought of facing the Void alone was enough to push him into following her.

“Why are you helping me?” he asked as they walked.

Lyra glanced over her shoulder. “Because I want out of this nightmare as much as you do. If you can break the mirror, maybe it’ll free me too.”

Riven nodded, though her answer left him with more questions than before.

As they continued, Lyra explained more about the Void’s nature. “The mirror doesn’t just trap people—it reflects their worst fears, their greatest regrets. If you’re not careful, it’ll use those against you until you lose yourself completely.”

Riven clenched his jaw. “I’ve already seen that. My reflection... it knew things about me I didn’t even remember.”

Lyra stopped abruptly, turning to face him. “Your reflection is more dangerous than anything else you’ll face. It’s not just a trick of the mirror—it’s a part of you. The parts you’ve buried, the parts you don’t want to admit exist. If you don’t confront it, it’ll destroy you.”

Riven looked away, the weight of her words settling heavily on his shoulders.

They emerged into a courtyard, where crystalline flowers bloomed under a fractured sky. The beauty of the scene was almost enough to distract Riven from the unease crawling under his skin.

“This is the Glass Garden,” Lyra said, her voice quieter now. “It’s the last place people see before they reach the Eternal Mirror. The Void uses it to lure you in, make you let your guard down.”

As they walked through the garden, Riven noticed shapes moving in the corner of his vision. He turned, only to find himself face-to-face with a memory—his own reflection as a child, sitting in a field of flowers and laughing without a care in the world.

“What is this?” Riven asked, his voice trembling.

“The garden’s tricks,” Lyra replied, her tone grim. “It shows you what you’ve lost. Or what you’ll never have again.”

Riven reached out toward the reflection, but it dissolved into mist before he could touch it.

“Don’t let it distract you,” Lyra warned. “We’re almost there.”

As the spire of the Eternal Mirror loomed closer, Riven felt the weight of the Void pressing heavier on his heart. Lyra walked beside him, her presence a fragile comfort in a world that wanted to consume him.

But even with her guidance, the whispers of the Void grew louder, and Riven couldn’t shake the feeling that the hardest battles were still to come—within the mirror, and within himself.