Oliver glanced around the Hall of Mirrors. The haunting images of Coda's destruction were still vivid in his mind. The myriad reflections around them shimmered softly, each mirror capturing fragments of the room and faraway places.

After a moment, he relaxed. No one was here with him and Elstina.

She started walking toward the door.

"We need to warn everyone," Oliver said.

Elstina nodded, her silver hair cascading over her shoulders like a waterfall. "My mother, the council, everyone."

A faint rustling interrupted their thoughts. Oliver's gaze snapped toward the sound. "Did you hear that?"

Elstina tensed. "Someone's definitely here."

They crept through the labyrinthine hall, the distorted images making it difficult to discern reality from reflection. A metallic clatter echoed sharply.

A gold goblet rolled across the marble floor. It stopped at Elstina’s foot.

"Over there!" Oliver pointed.

Behind a tall mirror etched with elven runes, a figure scrambled to gather scattered treasures. He stuffed a string of jewels into a bulging satchel. As he stood up, his eyes met Oliver's.

"Hunter?" Oliver's voice was a mix of disbelief and hope.

The man frowned, adjusting his grip on the satchel. "Huh?”

"It's me, Oliver. I've been looking for you."

Hunter took a step back. "Yeah, sure you have." He looked back for an escape route.

"Don’t run," Oliver said, reaching into his pouch.

Hunter flinched and pulled a dagger.

Oliver pulled out a glowing Sphere of Memories, its soft light illuminating their faces as it reacted with its owner. "This belongs to you. Take it."

Hunter eyed it skeptically. "Not interested."

“Take it anyway.” Oliver had to find a way to at least get it into the man’s hands. “It’s valuable.”

“Really?” He snatched it from Oliver's hand and slipped it into his satchel.

Elstina pulled back her hood. "Who is Hunter?"

“Never met him," Hunter said, adjusting the satchel over his shoulder, ready to bolt.

Before anyone could react, a commanding voice resonated through the hall. "I was expecting you two? Yet there’s three." The Malarite Crown, Elstina's mother, strode toward them. Her emerald robes flowed, and her piercing gaze froze them in place. Golden elf guards flanked her, their armor like the mirrors around them.

"Mother," Elstina began, her voice steady but tinged with apprehension. "I need to talk with you."

The Malarite Crown raised a hand to silence her. "Tezkaldrich came to Tuile in her sleep. She scraped her own eyes out with her fingernails after a vision He gave her. While my healers stitched her eyelids closed, she told me the young man with my daughter was the only one to fight the man who would kill us all.” Her eyes never left Oliver. "You are a weapon."

Oliver backed away. "We saw him. I’m no match."

She shook her head. "You will defeat him."

He knew what it would take to win if it were even possible. If this were all a game, he’d have to grind easy enemies and gain levels, but Coda was way ahead. "I don’t know how."

Her expression hardened. "Tezkaldrich has named you a weapon, and I mean to use it." She gestured, and the golden guards moved forward, encircling them.

Hunter glanced around and dropped his dagger. He turned to flee, but a guard blocked his path, spear leveled. "No one leaves," the guard stated.

Elstina stepped toward her mother. "This isn't necessary. Oliver will do what he can, but we saw Coda. He’s unstoppable."

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The Malarite Crown's eyes flashed with impatience. "Enough, Elstina. You've meddled enough already." She signaled to the guards. "Take him.”

Two guards seized Oliver by the arms. He struggled briefly. "Elstina, talk to her."

A guard prodded Hunter. “What about him?”

Elstina’s mother waved her hand. “Throw him out. Let him keep the trinkets he’s stolen. But if he’s spotted in the city again, he’ll be killed.”

Elstina's face reddened in anger like a teapot ready to blow, but she spoke in a level tone. “I think this is a mistake.”

The guards took the swordstaff and led Oliver down to the first floor.

Hours later, he sat in a large chamber with high ceilings with intricate patterns. A single window above allowed a sliver of moonlight, casting pale shadows across the stone floor. Oliver couldn’t believe the display gave him so much information now that he couldn’t make use of it.

Mission: retrieve Time Crystal

The mission made zero sense save for an arrow facing north. Well, that wasn’t useful because he wasn’t going anywhere. Also, a new page showed a list of names. He found himself at three hundred and determined it was rankings. Coda reined at the top, number one.

The heavy door creaked open, and the Malarite Crown entered, her demeanor composed but firm. Two guards stood at attention outside, the door closing behind her.

"Have you reconsidered your position?" she asked, her voice echoing in the chamber.

Oliver stood to face her. "I understand your desire to protect your people, but imprisoning me won't stop Coda. I need to be out there, preparing, if it’s even possible to stop him."

She arched an eyebrow. "Are you a military strategist?”

“No.”

“Should a sword pick the battles it should fight? I don’t need a weapon that thinks. I need one that works. I need one that does what I want it to."

"This isn’t how this works," he replied. "If you kept me here and tried to unleash me when the time comes, what would I do? I have some power, but he’s on another level."

Her gaze sharpened. "Your insolence is tiresome. You speak to me like a petty king who thinks I care to listen to him squawk. I think you need an education."

The guards burst in and advanced. One struck him across the face, the force staggering him backward. The other delivered a blow to his midsection, knocking the wind out of his lungs.

He gasped, struggling to stay upright. "This won't change anything," he managed to say.

She watched impassively. "We shall see." She turned to leave. "Continue."

The guards proceeded to kick the shit out of him. He was a weapon’s master, and found his bare hands deadly, but the guards were elite warriors and outnumbered him. Oliver gritted his teeth, refusing to cry out.

In the morning, she returned. "Are you ready to cooperate?"

He met her gaze, defiance burning in his eyes. The only thing keeping him from disintegrating her here and now was Elstina, Hunter, and Zaisy. He likely would never see them again in any other world. These were his only friends, which meant more to him than anything else. "This will only lead to ruin."

She sighed. "There are people up north who are so stubborn they won’t stay in the grave. Perhaps you’re one of them. But why suffer pain and isolation when it’s so easy to have respect for those above your station." She gestured to the guards.

She paced slowly. "Perhaps I was given the prophecy because you’re not a weapon. You’re raw iron that needs to be forged. Today, I give you a way out of a beating."

His stomach sank at the threat. He hurt all over. "I’d rather not be beaten."

She seemed tall when she approached. "Kneel and kiss the toe of my boot. Show me respect."

Oliver decided she was insane. "No."

Her lips pressed into a thin line. "You’re probably smart enough to know I won’t kill you, but nothing else is off the table."

He could make it better for himself if he did what she said, but he couldn’t. There was a bitter streak that ran through him he now recognized. It shocked and surprised him. I was so beaten down I didn’t even know myself. “Good for you.”

Her eyes flashed with anger. "Enough!" She turned sharply and exited the chamber, the door slammed, and the beatings continued.

Days passed in a blur. Silent attendants brought meals. Occasionally, she would return, repeating her demands. Each time, he refused, and the punishments continued. Part of him hoped Elstina would return, but she never did.

On the seventh night, weakened but unbroken, Oliver sat beneath the high window, the faint glow of the moon casting a halo around him. He closed his eyes, seeking solace in memories of better times.

A chill filled the air, and a familiar presence, the white reaper, materialized from the shadows.

"Am I dead again?" Oliver asked wryly, a hint of a smile tugging at his bruised lips.

"No," the reaper said.

"It’s good to see a familiar face."

The reaper regarded him with hollow eyes. "What are you doing?"

Oliver glared at the door. "I won't submit to her."

"Your resolve is commendable, but your current path leads to stagnation," the reaper observed.

Oliver sighed. "What would you have me do? I can't force her to listen."

The reaper extended a bony finger, pointing to the far side of the chamber. "These are mighty walls, but you’ve destroyed rock before."

The stones in the wall must have weighed thousands of pounds each. Oliver had thought about what he could do. He broke through a wall that encircled the tower quickly, but in these confined spaces, shrapnel would turn him into hamburger. “Besides myself, how many would I kill?”

“If you use your shield, you won’t be among the dead.”

Would the shield let energy out? It must be true if the reaper said so. The angel of death had never lied to him.