Chapter 19: Trapped

The deeper they moved into the dungeon, the colder it became. The walls hummed with faint magic, like old power buried under centuries of dust. Elara stuck close to Kalaen, her steps slow, careful. The air felt tight, like something was watching them.

Emily walked ahead, her hand raised, a faint glow guiding their way. Her expression stayed sharp and unreadable, only her clenched jaw giving away her irritation.

“Emily,” Elara whispered, “are you sure this is safe?”

“No,” Emily answered flatly. “But it’s the only way forward.”

Kalaen shot Elara a small look, as if reassuring her silently. That helped… a little.

They reached a fork—two narrow hallways branching into darkness.

Emily stopped. “Kalaen.”

He stepped forward and crouched, brushing his fingers over the floor. A faint, charred symbol ran across the stone, like a burned circle.

Kalaen’s brows lifted slightly. “This trap is old. But not dead.”

Elara felt her stomach drop. “Trap?”

Emily nodded. “This dungeon wasn’t built to hold people. It was built to test them.”

Kalaen stood. “Or punish them.”

Elara rubbed her arms, trying to shake the chill. “Azael made this place?”

“Most likely,” Kalaen said. “Or someone from his line.”

She didn’t know what was worse.

Emily pointed down the right hallway. “This way. The left one will collapse if we enter it. I can sense the magic.”

Kalaen moved first, motioning for Elara to follow. The hallway stretched on, the ground sloping downward until they reached a heavy iron gate. Runes covered every inch of it.

Kalaen stepped closer, frowning. “This is… strange.”

“What?” Elara asked.

He leaned in, reading the old writing carefully. “This gate only opens for someone with infernal blood.”

Emily made a slow, annoyed sigh. “Azael.”

Elara felt panic rise in her throat. “But he’s in Belmond. How do we open it now?”

“We don’t,” Kalaen said, straightening. His eyes drifted to the wall beside the gate. “There’s another path.”

Emily touched the stone, and it shifted slightly under her palm. “Hidden.”

Kalaen stepped back as the wall cracked open, revealing a narrow passage lit by dim red light.

“After you,” Emily said, not looking at Elara this time.

Elara stepped inside, her heart racing. The tunnel was tight, almost claustrophobic, but after a few steps it opened into a large chamber.

And there—on the far wall—hung a massive stone relief.

Elara froze.

It showed a woman. Her face was hers. Her hair, her eyes… everything.

Except the woman in the carving was burning.

Emily stared at it silently. Kalaen’s jaw tightened.

“What… is this?” Elara whispered.

Kalaen stepped closer, brushing dust from the carving. “This is a past version of you.”

Elara’s pulse hammered in her ears. “But why is she—?”

Before Kalaen could answer, the air shifted. A gust of cold wind swept through the chamber, and the torches flickered.

Emily’s head snapped up. “It’s here.”

The spirit.

It poured in from the ceiling like black smoke, taking shape behind Elara. She gasped and stumbled back as a massive shadowy hand reached toward her.

Kalaen grabbed her, pulling her behind him, his blade out in an instant.

Emily raised her hand, shouting a command that made the air crack.

The spirit recoiled, screeching, its form shaking—but then something worse happened. The chamber floor lit up, symbols glowing under their feet.

A teleportation sigil.

Emily’s eyes widened. “No—!”

Light exploded.

And in the next second, they were somewhere else entirely.

They crashed onto cold stone. Elara’s ears rang, her vision blurry. Kalaen groaned beside her. Emily pulled herself up, brushing dust from her clothes, clearly furious.

Elara blinked, trying to make out their surroundings.

The walls… the floor… the metal door…

Kalaen went still.

“I know this place,” he said.

Emily looked up. “Where are we now?”

Kalaen swallowed. “Azael’s personal cell block. Nobody is brought here unless he wants them here.”

Elara felt her stomach twist into knots. “You mean… he planned this?”

Emily didn’t answer.

Kalaen didn’t either.

But the silence told her enough.

Before Elara could even process what Kalaen said, the walls around them groaned. The stone floor shook, cracks running across it like something underneath was waking up.

Emily stiffened. “Stand back.”

But the dungeon didn’t give them time. The cells shifted—stretching, widening—stone grinding loudly until a long hallway formed in front of them. Torches lit themselves one by one.

Elara swallowed. “This wasn’t here before…”

Kalaen stepped forward slowly, hand hovering near his sword. “Azael’s blocks can change shape. Depends on what they want from you.”

“Well, I don’t like what they want,” Emily muttered.

They walked deeper into the newly formed hallway. The air grew heavier with each step, thicker, almost pressing against them. Elara felt her heart beating too fast, but Kalaen was beside her, steady and calm, and that helped her breathe.

They reached a wide stone wall with fresh glowing words carved across it:

DEFEAT THE OPPONENT IN THE NEXT ROOM.

OR STAY HERE FOREVER.

Elara’s stomach dropped. “Forever?”

Emily read the words again, jaw tight. “This is a test. Azael built these for… punishment. Or training. Or both.”

Kalaen placed a hand on the large metal door beside the writing. “We don’t get to choose. We open it.”

He pushed the door. It swung open with a loud rumble.

The room inside was huge, empty, lit only by the torches lining the walls. Elara stepped in behind them… and froze.

A figure floated above the ground in the center of the room.

A woman.

No—Emily.

Or an exact copy of her.

Same face. Same hair. Same cold eyes. But this one didn’t look alive. Her body glowed faintly, and her feet didn’t touch the floor.

Kalaen stared at it for a long second, then let out a humorless laugh.

“Oh great,” he muttered, shaking his head. “How do we beat that?”

Emily’s face drained of color. She didn’t move. Didn’t speak.

The copy tilted its head slowly, eyes locking onto Elara.

Then it smiled.

A small, dark smile that did not belong to any human version of Emily.

Elara stepped back. “What… what is that?”

Kalaen pulled his sword free, the blade lighting faintly with fire. “A mirror guardian.”

Emily swallowed hard. “It’s more than that. It’s made from my power. My magic.”

“And that means,” Kalaen added quietly, “it’s almost as strong as you.”

The duplicate Emily lifted her hand.

Black fire gathered in her palm.

Kalaen moved in front of Elara instantly.

“Get ready,” he said. “We’re fighting her.”

The copy’s eyes blazed.

And the door behind them slammed shut.