Chapter 20: The Three in the Mirror
Perspective: Unknown
The realm was quiet.
Not silent.
Not still.
Just... quiet, like the hush before a story begins.
And there, upon a floor made of shattered memories reassembled as glass, three chairs faced a single, towering mirror.
They did not speak.
They did not raise weapons.
They sat.
On the left: Lyra.
Golden threads shimmered in her robes, woven from remembered sorrow and forgotten oaths. Her eyes were soft, but her spine was straight. She did not weep. Not anymore.
On the right: Velkaris.
His face was blank — not expressionless, but absent. As if he were the echo of someone who once was, or perhaps who was never supposed to be. He was regal in posture, a ghost with too many memories stitched into his coat.
In the center: Eiren.
Still human. Still uncertain. But seated like one who suspects the ending has already been written. He held nothing — no weapon, no truth, no mask.
Only tension.
Only possibility.
They faced the Mirror of the Sefirah.
But the mirror did not show them as they were.
It played.
As if someone had pressed "Start" on a reel of fate.
A scene flickered into view.
A child named Eiren, whispering a lie to protect his mother, even as he watched truth crumble like stale bread in his hands.
Cut.
A young angel, later to be named Lyra, once named something holier — standing defiant before a pantheon that chose to forget her rather than accept her love for a mortal.
Her name was stripped.
Her Sequence broken.
But her memory… remained.
Cut.
A nameless soul, kneeling in a dark, collapsed reality — nothing above him, nothing below — and whispering:
"Make me real. Please. I'll wear any mask."
That was Velkaris.
That was no one.
That was the seed.
The mirror kept playing.
Scenes distorted.
Some were lies that had become truth.
Others were truths that had rotted into myth.
And some were just… almost.
Eiren leaned forward.
"I don't understand," he said quietly.
Lyra reached out.
Her hand hovered over his — but did not touch.
"We all wanted to exist," she said. "For different reasons."
Velkaris tilted his head.
Not in confusion.
But as if remembering a joke he once told himself.
The mirror flickered again.
This time, it showed all three of them — wearing each other's faces.
Then it shattered.
They did not react.
They simply rose.
At the same time.
Three pieces of the same note.
Then the mirror reformed, piece by piece.
But now it no longer showed reflections.
It showed only light.
And that light was beginning to twist into a new shape.
A face.
A throne.
A mask.
A name.
The room trembled, not from violence, but from inevitability.
The three stood not as rivals, but as echoes returning to the same song.
One stepped forward.
It does not matter who.
Not anymore.
The mirror opened.
And everything… began again .
This time mirror shows the truth of there origin there past and all
How it all started Because of wish in his dream
End of Volume 1: Dream and Becoming
(also known as Glimpse)