School of monsters

CHAPTER 9: THE TRIAL OF THE MIRROR

The atmosphere in the Great Hall turned ice-cold. Heavy iron chains rattled as four massive stone gargoyles dragged the Mirror of Truth onto the center of the wooden stage. The mirror stood ten feet tall, its frame crafted from twisted obsidian and serpent bone. The glass itself wasn't reflective; it looked like a pool of ink, swirling with pale violet smoke.

"The Trial of the Mirror is ancient," Drake whispered in my ear, his voice barely audible over the uneasy murmurs of the crowd. "It reads your soul's origin. If a creature of darkness touches the glass, the smoke turns dark blue. If a normal human touches it..."

"What happens?" I asked quietly, keeping my chin up.

"The glass shatters," Isabella said, appearing silently on my left side. "And the magical feedback vaporizes the person standing before it."

I swallowed hard, feeling the ember-sap potion burning hot in my stomach. "So if I touch it, I explode."

"Not necessarily," Isabella murmured, her violet eyes fixed on the stage. "The First Warden built that mirror. It doesn't test for species, Lisa. It tests for authority."

Before I could ask what she meant by authority, Headmaster Williams struck his wooden staff against the floor. A sharp c***k echoed through the cavernous room.

"When your name is called," Headmaster Williams announced, his deep voice carrying an immense weight that made the floorboards vibrate, "you will step forward and place your right hand against the glass. Those who pass will join the inner courtyard. Those who fail... will be dealt with."

A line began to form at the side of the stage. Princess was the first to step forward, her chin thrust out proudly, her silk boots clicking against the steps. She marched up to the mirror, sneered at the crowd, and pressed her palm against the dark glass.

The swirling smoke inside the mirror reacted instantly, violently churning into a rich, deep royal blue. A low hum vibrated from the iron frame.

"Princess Victoria," the Headmaster declared. "Pure Vampire Bloodline. Passed."

Princess smirked, stepping off the stage and casting a nasty look back at me. "Your turn soon, fake," she mouthed.

One by one, students stepped up to the glass. Werewolves made the smoke flare a bright golden-amber; demon-kin turned the mist crimson; spirits caused the glass to glow a soft, ghostly silver. Each time, the glass remained intact, confirming their dark origins.

"Lisa Perry."

The Headmaster's voice echoed through the hall like a thunderclap.

The entire crowd fell dead silent. Hundreds of glowing eyes—red, yellow, purple, and pale blue—turned to stare at me. Whispers rippled through the rows like wind through dry leaves.

"Is that the girl Princess was talking about?"

"She looks weak."

"She doesn't even have a dark aura."

"Go," Drake murmured softly, touching the middle of my back. "Remember who you are."

I stepped out of the crowd. My boots sounded unnaturally loud against the stone floor, but I didn't rush, and I didn't look down. I held my head high, walking up the wooden steps of the stage with deliberate, measured steps.

Headmaster Williams stood near the mirror, his tall frame looming over me like a crow. His pale, sunken eyes narrowed as I approached. Up close, I could feel the suffocating pressure of his magic—it felt like stepping into deep, heavy water.

"Lisa Perry," Headmaster Williams said, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "There are rumors that a creature of flesh and ordinary blood has crossed our threshold. What say you?"

"I say you shouldn't listen to gossip, Headmaster," I replied smoothly, staring directly into his sunken eyes.

A few murmurs of shock rose from the audience. No one spoke to the Headmaster like that.

Williams’ lip twitched upward in a cold, humorless smile. "Bold. Let us see if your blood matches your mouth. Touch the glass."

I turned to the Mirror of Truth. Up close, the black frame smelled like ozone and dried blood. The dark, ink-like smoke inside swirled faster, almost as if it recognized me coming closer.

My heart was hammering against my ribs, but my hand was steady. I raised my right palm, hovering an inch away from the surface.

If I die, I thought, at least I didn't die bowing to them.

I pressed my palm flat against the cold glass.

For a second, nothing happened. The entire hall held its breath.

Then, a high-pitched, deafening screech rang out from the frame. The swirling smoke inside the glass turned stark, blinding white. The black iron frame began to shake violently, dust raining down from the ceiling as a surge of raw, golden light burst from my palm.

The glass didn't shatter. Instead, ancient runes—the exact same symbols from the book of bloodlines—ignited across the surface of the mirror, glowing with the heat of a mini star.

Headmaster Williams gasped, taking a sharp step back, his wooden staff slipping slightly in his grip.

The dark smoke inside the mirror bowed away from my hand, opening up a clear, perfectly reflective path. In the glass, my reflection appeared—not as a weak human girl in a oversized coat, but draped in heavy, silver-embroidered armor, with a brilliant golden crown of light resting above my head.

The mirror hummed a deep, resonant tone that sounded like a war horn.

Then, the light faded back into dark blue mist.

I pulled my hand back, my palm tingling with warmth. I turned around to face the hall.

The entire student body was dead silent. Every single monster was staring at me with wide, terrified eyes. Even Princess looked pale, her jaw hanging open in utter disbelief.

"Lisa Perry," Headmaster Williams stammered, his usual icy composure completely shattered. He cleared his throat, trying to regain his dominant posture, but his hands were trembling. "The... the Mirror accepts you. Pure High-Tier Magic. Passed."

I gave the Headmaster a tight, cold nod, stepped off the stage, and walked straight toward Drake, who was watching me with an expression of pure, unadulterated awe.