Rise Of The Mirror King

Chapter 4: Under Attack

The High Archmage had granted me a final grace—placing me under curfew, forbidden to leave the castle until vacation arrived. It was met with disapproval from the council and students alike. Whoever Symon was, one thing was crystal clear: he was trouble.

I returned to my chambers, promising myself I'd find out why. Once inside, I shut the door and called out to Grey.

"How may I help you?"

"What do I need to know about this Symon?"

There was a long pause, long enough that I started to wonder what exactly Grey was.

"Symon is a prodigy at everything he attempts. Born a noble, blessed with rich mana."

"So he's arrogant?"

"Almost."

"Who are his friends?"

He had to have someone he wasn't a jerk to.

"None."

I looked at the screen.

"None? Then who's Amelia?"

"Sir, you specifically instructed me never to speak of her again."

"When did I—" I started to yell, then stopped myself.

I sighed.

A soft knock sounded at the door.

"Come in."

Amelia stepped inside. She'd changed out of her dirtied robe into a cream-colored velvet dress.

"How's your head feeling?" she asked, almost immediately.

I shrugged.

"Nothing I can't handle."

[Tell her to leave.]

That voice was back.

"Do you need anything?" she asked.

"No... I—"

She paused.

"Sorry I dragged you into another mess."

"It's okay."

[You idiot. It's not okay.]

I sighed.

She turned to go.

"Amelia," I said before I could stop myself.

"Goodnight."

I'd meant to ask about my memories, but decided against it.

She nodded and left the room.

"Grey."

"Lord Symon."

"How do we undo this sync? I don't think I can live like this."

I said it without much conviction. Truthfully, I'd liked how my body moved earlier—no collapsing, no reaching for an inhaler. I liked the way my chest cut into defined muscle.

"There's never been a case of someone reversing their Twin-Souled state. It's permanent."

"How long before anyone else finds out?"

"Given how you acted at tonight's council meeting, I'd say very soon. But it won't hurt you—your kind is rare here, and commands a great deal of respect."

"If that was meant to comfort me, it didn't work."

"I'm sorry you feel that way."

I waved Grey away and moved toward the fireplace. The wood crackled softly, warmth spreading through the room.

This wasn't happening. I was in another world, in a body that looked like mine on the outside but carried memories I had both lived and never lived at once.

If I really had died on that hospital bed, and this place was neither heaven nor hell, then maybe my soul had reincarnated. But that didn't add up either—every isekai novel I'd ever read had the protagonist starting fresh, not waking up halfway into someone else's life.

I moved to the window. All I could see was vast green land stretching toward two moons on the horizon.

"Grey."

"Yes, Lord Symon."

"How long until vacation?"

"A fortnight from now."

"Do you know of any other Twin-Souled like me?"

"Yes. One."

"Who?"

Another hesitation.

"Lucifero."

The name struck something in me, and my fingers curled tight.

That reaction hadn't been mine.

It was Symon's.

"Who is he?"

"First son of King Elmond and Queen Khalifa."

"Do you know why Symon resents him?"

"I can't provide that information. I'm only embedded in your core."

I paused, staring back out at the two moons.

"What is this world called?"

"Odbeara. An Earth parallel to your own."

So I wasn't dead.

That, at least, was some relief.

[I need my body back. Undo whatever spell you used on me.]

The voice returned, sharper this time.

"Symon? Is that you?" I asked, gathering the nerve.

[Yes. Undo whatever spell trapped me in here.]

"I'm sorry—what? I didn't do anything."

[Don't play games with me.]

"Look, friend, I don't know what's happening any more than you do. Maybe try helping instead of just being background noise."

Silence. I was relieved he had finally shut up, but he whispered in my head again.

[There's a book on the table. It should tell you why this is happening.]

I crossed the room fast, practically lightning, and grabbed the book. The pages smelled of old ink, brittle and threatening to crumble at the edges.

I read the first line aloud.

"Twin-Souled: A Gift or a Curse?"

The author's name had faded too badly to make out—I couldn't even tell if it started with a G or C.

I flipped through the first and second pages. But nothing answered the question—it only raised more.

I dropped the book in frustration.

Another knock came at the door.

"Come in."

Astrid entered this time, a small bottle in hand.

"I made you another elixir. You should keep this one on you."

She set it on the table, then crossed to me. Her hand, cool and smooth, pressed against my forehead.

"Good—your fever broke," she said, sinking onto the edge of the bed.

"What do you know about Twin-Souled?" I blurted out.

[Great.]

She looked at me with those wide eyes, as if she hadn't quite caught the question.

"Only what everyone else knows." She leaned forward. "Same person, different soul."

Then she stopped, studying me.

"Why do you ask?"

"No reason," I said.

She stood and stepped closer—I didn't see it coming—and her lips brushed mine before I jerked back.

"What—"

"We shouldn't do that," I said.

She nodded. Her cheeks flared red. She turned and left without another word.

The silence afterward was deafening. Maybe sleeping was the practical thing to do.

I'd barely reached the bed when thunder cracked outside, hard enough to rattle the windows in their frames.

Grey flickered into view.

"Lord Symon, it appears the academy is under attack."

"Under attack? By who?"

"Judging by the sheer volume of mana, it's the demon princess and prince."

My body moved before I told it to. My hand grabbed the sword on the table and the black robe in one motion.

In the hallway, students were rushing toward their dorms.

I reached the main hall. Lucifero was there, talking in a hushed voice to twelve other students. I could recognize them from Symon's memories; they called themselves the twelve commandments.

"You're supposed to be under curfew," Lucifero said as I passed him.

"Try and stop me," I growled.

I went for the window instead and launched myself over. I descended a height of four stories and landed with a heavy thud in the courtyard.

"Grey. Still there?"

"Still here, Lord Symon. What do you need?"

"How do I let Symon take control?"

I wasn't panicking, exactly, but the two figures ahead of me dredged up memories that weren't mine—the girl with twin horns and a forked, snake-like tongue was Mazikeen, the demon princess, and beside her stood her brother, Zeldryl, the demon prince.

This wasn't something I could bluff through on instinct alone.

"Symon is bound within your soul. There's no way to hand over control—the two of you are already synced."

Zeldryl attacked without warning.

There was no time to block.

His sword drove clean through my chest and out my back, the force hurling me into the brick wall behind me.