The yard had fallen into silence.
Jyang stood among the others, facing the corridor that had appeared from nowhere—an arch of pale stone leading into a hallway lined with tall, silver mirrors. Some cracked. Some fogged. All humming softly, like they were breathing.
A monk raised his hand.
"The first trial," he announced, voice echoing through the monastery's still air, "is the Walk of Mirrors. You will face no enemy here but yourself. Do not run. Do not scream. Do not strike the glass. The mirror always watches."
The arch shimmered. The candidates entered, one by one.
When it was Jyang's turn, Ursu jumped from his shoulder. "I wait out here."
"What? Why?"
"Because," Ursu said, quietly, "this is your walk."
Jyang swallowed and stepped in.
The moment he passed under the arch, the air thickened. Cold. Too quiet.
His footsteps echoed as he moved through the corridor. At first, the mirrors showed nothing. Then—images.
His sister, frozen in stone. The night the ru came.
He tried to look away. The image followed.
Another step. Another mirror. He saw himself, younger, crying in the rain, holding a burnt-out scroll in one hand and a broken wand in the other.
A soft whisper filled the air. It sounded like his mother's voice.
"You're not enough, Jyang."
He flinched.
"No affinity. No strength."
He walked faster.
More mirrors. His village. Laughing kids. Then their faces twisted. Mocking.
A warped version of Ursu appeared in the glass. "You think you're special? You couldn't even light a rock on fire."
He clenched his fists. "Shut up."
The mirrors laughed. Over and over.
"Shut up!"
A crack formed in the glass beside him—but he didn't hit it. He just stood, breathing hard.
Suddenly, the laughter faded.
Ahead, one last mirror glowed.
It was different. Smaller. Clear.
He stepped toward it, expecting more pain.
Instead, it showed him—not broken, not crying—but standing tall. Holding a blade of light. Robes billowing in a storm. Ursu beside him, older, stronger. Behind him, a whole village alive.
He touched the mirror. It warmed beneath his fingers.
And then, it vanished.
He stepped out into sunlight.
The monk at the gate gave him a quiet nod.
Ursu hopped up. "You okay?"
Jyang didn't answer right away.
Then he whispered, "Yeah. I saw something… strange."
"What?"
"Myself."