Dave put his helmet back on, pushing Matt aside.
"Dave?" Matt asked, eyebrows raised.
Without saying a word, Dave stepped forward and drove his fist into Matt's stomach.
Matt gasped and fell to his knees, coughing and clutching his gut. "What the hell was that for?!"
"Shut it, scum!" Dave barked, putting on his best tough-guy act. "You think we'd let someone like you get away with trying to murder the Lady of the Mansion?"
Matt stared up at him in disbelief, eyes watering. Then he noticed the wink Dave tried—and failed—to hide, and he understood.
"I'm sorry," Dave whispered quickly as he grabbed Matt's arm and forced him back to his feet.
Matt groaned and leaned into the role. "Please," he cried out, loud enough for the nearby guard to hear, "don't take me, I'll tell you everything—just no torture! I'm weak! I break easily!"
The old captain stepped in with a scoff. "Save your breath. We're done being gentle."
Another guard nearby chuckled darkly. "You think this is bad? Wait until the old captain gets to work on you."
They led Matt out in chains, through the dim corridors and up into the courtyard, where torches lit the stone walls. Just as they neared the gate, Lady Elira appeared at the top of the steps.
She eyed them curiously, then narrowed her crimson gaze at Matt. "What's going on here?"
The captain stepped forward. "My lady. I could not allow this coward to die quietly in a cell. I'm taking him somewhere more… suitable. He'll tell us everything. I will find Halric for you."
Elira smiled faintly, seeming pleased. "Then do it. Bring me his head when you're done."
She turned and vanished into the manor, leaving the three of them alone.
Dave let out a long breath. "Okay," he muttered. "Part one's done."
Matt groaned. "Next time, let me punch you."
Back at the old captain's house, the mood shifted the moment the door creaked open and Dave stepped inside with Matt at his side.
Halric and Nia stood up fast, expressions caught between relief and concern. Nia reached Matt first. "You're not hurt?"
Matt gave a tired shake of his head. "Bruised. Mostly my pride."
Halric leaned on his cane. "What happened in there?"
Matt sat down heavily. "The mirror… I tried to use it on her. For a second, I thought it worked—she changed. It was like her spirit was being pulled out. But she tricked me, fought back. Like the witch warned."
Nia's face tightened. "She's that powerful?"
Matt nodded. "She's strong and cunning. We need to be careful around her."
Dave leaned on the wall, arms crossed. "Then how do we get the mirror back? We're not walking in and asking nicely, are we?"
The old captain, silent until now, stepped into the room. His voice was steady. "We won't ask. We'll give her what she asked for instead."
Everyone turned toward him.
"She wanted a head in a sack," the captain continued. "Proof that I found one of the culprits. So… we'll give her one."
"You want to kill someone?" Matt asked.
"No," the captain said. "We fake it. You two"—he looked at Dave and Matt—"will be disguised as guards. Nia goes inside the sack. She can shield herself from detection, right?"
Nia hesitated, then gave a slow nod. "If I stay still and keep my aura masked, she won't sense me."
"We bring her to Elira," the captain said. "Close enough to the mirror. Then we act. Quick and clean. We get the mirror, and try again."
Dave exhaled through his nose. "Sounds like the kind of plan that only works once."
The captain gave a grim smile. "Then we'd better make it count."
Night had settled over the mansion, quiet and thick. The old captain walked steadily through the front doors, a blood-soaked sack slung over his shoulder. Behind him, Dave and Matt followed closely, dressed in guard uniforms, their helmets obscuring their faces.
The dripping sack left a trail behind them as they made their way through the hall. When they reached Elira's chamber, the captain stopped and gave the door a firm knock.
A few seconds passed, then laughter erupted from inside—sharp, shrill, and unhinged. It echoed through the corridor like broken glass.
Dave flinched.
Matt muttered under his breath, "She's absolutely insane."
The laughter died off, and her voice followed, smooth and pleased. "Enter."
The captain pushed the door open and stepped inside, moving with the ease of someone who had done this before. He knelt, placing the sack at her feet.
"The head, as you demanded," he said calmly.
Elira turned from her mirror, eyes gleaming. She crossed the room slowly, savoring the moment. Her gown whispered across the cold floor. Dave and Matt stayed by the door, standing stiff as trained guards.
She reached for the sack, a twisted grin forming.
"Now!" Matt shouted.
The sack bulged, then burst open. Nia shot upward from within, her small form drenched in blood. Her hands moved fast, words spilling from her lips like a chant.
A sharp ring cracked through the room. Ice raced outward from her fingers in thin, fast lines. Elira's legs froze mid-step, her arm stuck just inches from the sack. Frost bloomed up her body in a matter of seconds, locking her in place like a statue.
Nia wiped her face and turned. "She won't stay like this for long."
"Then let's not waste time," Matt said, already moving toward the mirror.
Elira's crimson eyes flared as realization struck. Her grin twisted into a snarl, and the frost encasing her body cracked with a sharp, splintering sound.
"She's breaking through!" Nia shouted, arms shaking as she struggled to maintain the spell. Her hands trembled with the force of Elira's resistance.
With no time to waste, Matt darted forward and grabbed the mirror from its stand. He turned in one swift motion and pointed it directly at Elira's face.
A burst of white light erupted from the mirror, striking Elira between the eyes. For a second, her expression froze. Another beam shot from her back into the mirror, the two streams locked in a standoff of pulsing energy.
But then Elira began to laugh—louder than before, the sound ragged and wild.
Her eyes burned brighter, red seeping into the air around them. "I told you earlier, didin't i? I will never go back inside that mirror!" she hissed, voice layered, like more than one person was speaking.
"She's fighting it," Nia said, sweat running down her face. "I—I can't hold her!"
Dave had had enough.
He stepped in, reeled back, and slammed his fist straight into Elira's jaw.
"Shut up with that creepy laughter!"
The impact knocked her head sideways. Her body jolted. For a heartbeat, the laughter stopped—and the twin beams of light shifted. The beam from Elira's face sank into the mirror, while the one from the mirror pierced through her forehead.
Elira stumbled, her eyes turning pale blue and confused.
She blinked. "Matt… turn it away. I'm back… I'm finally back in my body."
Matt hesitated, then checked the mirror. Inside, swirling like smoke in a jar, was a dark mist—churning, restless—and at its center, two glowing crimson eyes locked onto him.
He quickly wrapped the mirror in a thick cloth, muffling the faint hum it emitted.
No one spoke for a moment.
Then Nia collapsed to her knees. "It's done. She's inside the mirror now."
Dave looked down at Elira, who sat slumped and dazed on the floor. "Sorry about that..."
Outside the mansion, the cool night air smelled faintly of ash and damp soil. The stars were out now, scattered across the sky like tiny lanterns. Halric stood in the courtyard, pacing anxiously. When the doors creaked open and Elira stepped out—her steps unsteady, but her eyes her own—he froze.
"Elira?" he said, barely above a whisper.
She rushed to him.
Halric caught her in his arms just as she broke down. She buried her face in his chest and sobbed, her body trembling. "It was a nightmare, Father. Every day. I could see everything, hear everything, but I couldn't do anything. She was using me like a puppet."
Harlic held her tighter, his own eyes damp. "You're safe now. It's over. You're home."
Matt, Dave, and Nia lingered near the edge of the courtyard, giving them space. The weight of everything they'd just gone through was beginning to settle in their bones.
Halric turned to them, still holding Elira by the shoulders. "You saved her. I owe you more than I could ever repay."
Dave tried to wave it off. "We just happened to be in the right place. That's all."
"Don't be modest," Matt added, nudging him.
Elira wiped her eyes and walked over to them. Her steps were slow, but she stood tall again. "No," she said softly. "You risked everything for me. For someone you didn't even know."
She leaned in and gently kissed Dave on the cheek. Then she turned and did the same to Matt.
Matt's eyes widened. His mouth opened, but no words came out. It was the first time any girl had looked at him like that since they'd arrived in this strange world—let alone touched him.
Nia suddenly leapt onto his shoulder. She clung to his collar and gave Elira a narrowed look, her tiny lips pressed into a pout.
Matt blinked. "Uh… you okay up there?"
Nia didn't answer. She simply crossed her arms and stared off into the distance, clearly not in the mood for sharing.
Dave smirked. "Looks like someone's jealous."
Matt looked between the two girls and gave a nervous laugh. "This is… getting complicated."
Elira smiled faintly, the warmth returning to her eyes.
Suddenly, a sharp scream cut through the quiet.
Dave clutched his head and yelled, "Nooo!"
Everyone turned to him in alarm.
Matt rushed over. "What? What is it?"
Dave looked up at the sky in despair. "I… I left the cart on the middle of the road, it's probably been stolen!"
There was a pause. "What cart?" Matt asked.
"Our cart! The one I pulled through those corrupted lands,cursed woods, the bog, up that stupid hill! I left it forgotten out there!"
He dropped to his knees and let out a long, exaggerated sigh. "All that effort… all those near-death experiences… the emotional trauma. And I just left it."
Matt raised an eyebrow. "Didn't you complain about pulling that thing every single day?"
Dave stood up suddenly, eyes gleaming with a kind of wounded pride. He began flexing his arms dramatically, striking ridiculous strongman poses one after another. "You wouldn't understand. That cart was part of me. We had a bond. Wheel to soul."
Nia, still perched on Matt's shoulder, started clapping with genuine enthusiasm. "That was amazing! You're so strong, Dave!"
Dave gave her a solemn nod. "Thank you, Nia. Finally, someone gets it."
Matt snorted. "Alright, Hercules. We'll carve a statue in its honor later. For now, how about we focus on getting back to town in one piece?"
Dave wiped away a theatrical tear. "Fine. But I swear, if I see another cart like that again, I'm naming it Cartimus."
Matt groaned, and Nia giggled. Elira looked at them with a mix of confusion and amusement.
Halric shook his head with a smile. "You three are something else."
And for the first time in a while, things felt just a little lighter.
The next morning, warm sunlight filtered in through tall windows, casting soft golden light across the room. Dave, Matt, and Nia stirred awake in the guest quarters of the mansion—each lying in a bed so soft it felt like sleeping on clouds.
Dave was the first to break the silence. A quiet giggle slipped out of him.
Then another.
"Are you… giggling?" Matt asked from the bed next to his, groggy and confused.
Dave sat up, grinning ear to ear. "Dude, I forgot what comfort even felt like! This bed—this blessed miracle of a bed—is proof that the gods have not abandoned us. I never want to move again. Traveling? Over. I'm retiring right here."
Nia stretched from the cushion she had curled into and looked over. "You sound like a little girl, Dave."
"Let me have this," Dave said, falling backward into the bed with a sigh of pure bliss. "We've been sleeping on dirt, rocks, monster nests… I think I kissed a root in my sleep once."
Matt rubbed his eyes and sat up. "Glad you're enjoying yourself, but you do remember we're not staying here forever, right? We still need to reach Elandor. The kingdom has real mages—real ones. An archmage could have the knowledge we need to find a way home."
Dave groaned. "Elandor? That's like, what, hundreds of miles? On foot? Through cursed forests and bandit-infested roads?"
Matt shrugged. "Probably."
Dave rolled over and buried his face in the pillow. "I hate you."
"You said the same thing last time I made you climb that ravine," Matt said, unfazed. "Besides, what happened to the portal clue? Didn't you find something in that dusty book in the library?"
Matt looked over at him. "Yeah, and like I said—a clue. It was vague at best. The archmage is our best shot. He might actually understand the magic behind it. Maybe even how to replicate it."
Dave sat up slowly, his hair a mess. "I don't suppose the archmage lives right across the street?"
Matt gave him a flat look.
Dave flopped back onto the bed again. "I miss the cart…"
Nia chuckled and jumped gently on Dave's chest. "Come on, lazy. Big adventure still ahead."
Dave pointed at her. "You're too cheerful for someone who was hiding in a blood-soaked sack just yesterday."
She just smiled sweetly. "And yet I saved the day."
Matt stood and stretched. "Get ready. We leave at noon. Elira's preparing a guide to take us as far as the border."
Dave sighed again, dramatically. "Goodbye, sweet bed. We had so little time together."
Elira stepped into their room just as Dave was dramatically trying to wrap himself in the blankets again.
"I hope you're all awake," she said with a warm smile. "I have something for you. A small gift—after everything you've done."
Dave blinked. "Gift?"
Elira tilted her head toward the window. "Come outside."
They followed her through the grand hall and out onto the front courtyard, where the morning sun lit the cobblestones and the trimmed hedges swayed gently in the breeze.
Then Dave saw it.
His jaw dropped.
Parked just beyond the stairs was a sturdy, dark-wood wagon with reinforced wheels and a padded bench. It gleamed like it had just been polished. But it wasn't the wagon alone that stunned him—it was the massive six-legged creature hitched to it. About the size of a horse, its sleek body looked part-lizard, part-stag, with ridged muscles and calm, intelligent eyes.
Halriic and the old captain proudly presenting the wagon, smiling like they'd just pulled the greatest prank of the century.
Elira gestured proudly. "It's yours. I had it prepared this morning. I thought your journey east might be a little more bearable now."
Dave didn't speak. He sprinted down the steps, past everyone, and threw himself into a hug around the wagon's wheel.
"His name is Cartimus," he whispered, eyes gleaming with emotion. "And I love him."
Matt walked over and shook Elira's hand. "Thank you, really. For the wagon, the beds, the food—everything. Just... try not to get possessed by another mirror anytime soon, yeah?"
Elira laughed softly. "I'll do my best."
Just then, a familiar voice drifted from behind the wagon. "Hope I'm not late."
The witch from the woods stepped into view, as enchanting as ever—glowing eyes, wind-kissed hair, and a mischievous smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. She wore a travel cloak now, dusted lightly from the walk, and held a still-warm pie in her hands.
"I believe I promised someone pie," she said, scratching her cheek. "Also, I'm your guide to the border."
Dave gasped. "Pie? For me?"
She handed it to him with a wink. "Don't eat it all in one sitting. Might put you to sleep for a week."
Matt just stared between the two of them. "This trip's about to get very weird."