Villainous Instructor at the Academy
Chapter 193: Mirrors debt

Chapter 193: Mirrors debt

I didn’t sleep that night.

Not really.

Every time I closed my eyes, I saw his face—Lucian Drelmont’s original reflection, flickering in the shard like a memory I wasn’t supposed to carry. Not angry. Not hateful. Just... tired. As if disappointed I’d woken up at all.

By morning, I had a headache, a dozen failed rune sketches, and a strong suspicion that something was leaking through the mirrors across campus.

I wasn’t wrong.

When I entered the classroom, the air was off.

It wasn’t the students. They straightened, smirking or sighing in their usual half-cocked rhythms. Mira raised an eyebrow. Julien offered a lazy salute. Felix looked like he’d slept in a ditch. Cassandra, as always, sat poised with that eerie silence that was becoming less of a quirk and more of a warning.

No, the room felt wrong.

Specifically—the mirrors.

We had two in the back wall, mostly used for practical rune demonstrations. Today, their surfaces were still. Too still. Like water that refused to ripple. Like eyes that refused to blink.

I walked over, slowly.

"Professor?" Wallace asked behind me.

I raised a finger. "No talking."

I took a piece of chalk, carved the Stability rune into the base frame of one mirror. It should have hummed, realigned the mana field and synchronized the surface.

Instead, it recoiled.

The rune cracked.

The mirror vibrated.

And from the corner of my eye—I saw a hand press against the inside.

Thin. Pale. With long, black nails.

I snapped my fingers. "Everyone out."

"But—" Felix started.

"Out. Now."

To their credit, no one argued. Even Julien looked unsettled.

Once they were gone, I summoned the Grimoire.

It opened before I could will it to.

[RESONANCE POINT DETECTED]

[THRESHOLD: SHADED CLASSROOM / ARCANE GLASS]

[DO YOU WISH TO RECORD THIS PATTERN?]

I hesitated.

Then wrote: Yes.

A pulse echoed through the room. The mirror stopped shaking. But the hand... didn’t vanish.

Instead, it waved.

And then I heard a voice.

Not aloud. Inside.

"You owe me."

Elsewhere – Cassandra

She didn’t speak as the class huddled in the hall. She watched the classroom door. Watched the flickers of shadow moving underneath it.

Julien muttered, "Is it just me, or is Professor getting weirder?"

Mira replied, "He’s always been weird. Now he’s... haunted."

Cassandra said nothing. But inside her sleeve, she gripped the bone pendant tighter. The one she hadn’t shown the others. The one that vibrated when the mirrors acted up.

She whispered, "He’s not the only one who woke something up."

Back with Lucian

I stared at the handprint on the glass. It was fading now. Dissolving like mist.

I had written countless runes.

But this one was different.

It wasn’t just a pattern.

It was a promise.

Something had seen me. Had recognized the magic in the tomb. And now... it wanted something in return.

The Grimoire closed itself.

And on its cover, etched in silver fire, were new words:

"A Mirror Once Opened Demands Its Due."

I didn’t open the classroom for the rest of the day.

Instead, I went underground.

Not figuratively. Literally. Noctis Ardentis Academy had layers—old ones. Catacombs beneath catacombs, halls from ages before the current building, when runes were carved into walls instead of bound to paper. Some instructors knew. Most pretended not to. I wasn’t sure which I preferred.

But now that something was reaching through the mirrors, I couldn’t afford to pretend anymore.

So I descended.

The stairwell behind the West Wing archives was narrow, nearly vertical. Dust clung to the air like old breath. My footsteps echoed with each step down, louder than they had any right to be.

Clack. Clack. Clack.

The Grimoire buzzed against my coat.

"Relax," I muttered. "You’re not the one being watched."

Except it was.

We both were.

The first sign was a rune etched into the stone—a dead language, older than the standard script, looping and spiraling like it wanted to confuse you.

I knelt beside it.

"Binding pattern," I whispered, tracing it with gloved fingers. "But broken."

Cracked at the edges. Intentionally sabotaged.

Whatever it was holding down... wasn’t anymore.

I pressed on.

Deeper.

Through tunnels that pulsed faintly with residual magic. Through old doors with rusted hinges and bones in the corners. Human bones.

Until I reached the Mirror Chamber.

That’s what the old texts had called it.

A dome-shaped room lined entirely with blackened glass. Cracked. Warped. But still intact.

And in the center, an altar.

No, not an altar. A frame.

Empty.

As if the mirror it once held had been stolen—or never meant to be filled.

I stepped closer.

And the whispers began.

"Drelmont."

"Impostor."

"Thief of echoes."

My pulse spiked.

"You’re not real," I hissed.

But the Grimoire opened on its own again.

This time it didn’t ask permission.

[Pattern Integration Complete]

[New Sigil Acquired: ECHOCHAIN]

Effect: Links reflective surfaces within a domain. Echoes may pass freely. Resonance increases per usage. Side effects unknown.]

I stared at the page.

"You’re giving me mirror magic?"

The Grimoire pulsed.

And from behind me—I heard a tap.

Just a soft tap-tap-tap against one of the mirrored walls.

I turned.

And saw myself.

But not me.

The reflection was... older. Bruised. Hair longer. Eyes darker.

And it whispered, "Don’t go deeper."

Meanwhile – Cassandra

Cassandra felt the pull again.

Like a string tugging at the back of her mind.

She was walking the library halls when it struck—sharp and cold, like being doused in lake water. Her fingers went numb. The bone pendant flared white-hot under her collar.

She fell to one knee, gasping.

Across the aisle, an old librarian looked up.

"You alright, child?"

Cassandra forced a smile. "Just... mana shock. I’ll be fine."

But inside, the truth twisted:

Lucian had touched something old.

Something buried.

And if he kept going, she wasn’t sure either of them would come back the same.

Back with Lucian

I backed away from the false reflection.

And it matched me step for step—smirking.

Then it said, "There’s more to the Drelmont name than blood and shame."

I froze.

"...What did you say?"

But the reflection was already fading, rippling out like water disturbed by stone.

And for the first time in weeks, I felt it—not just the fear of dying, or being discovered.

But the creeping certainty that this world had rules even Sword of Radiance never told me about.

And I was breaking every one of them.

I didn’t sleep that night.

Not because I couldn’t.

Because I shouldn’t.

There’s a difference.

The moment I left the Mirror Chamber, I felt it. A second set of footsteps that stopped when I stopped. The weight of eyes on my back, even in complete darkness. The Grimoire pulsed with a quiet thrum against my chest—like a heart not quite beating right.

Echochain.

The name sat wrong on my tongue, like biting into a word with teeth.

Back in my quarters, I sealed every surface. Tapestries over the mirrors. A dark cloth over the glass desk. Even the window got shut tight, just in case the moon got ideas.

I sat with the Grimoire open and tried to make sense of the new sigil.

It wasn’t like the others.

It wasn’t a tool.

It was a door.

[Echochain]

Sigil Class: Forbidden

Function: Establishes a tether between two reflective surfaces within a domain. Visual and auditory echoes may be transmitted. Tether strengthens with use. Risk of inversion increases with each linked node.

Inversion.

It didn’t define the term.

Because of course it didn’t.

Because this cursed book only tells you what it wants you to know.

Still, I wasn’t an amateur anymore. I cross-referenced older patterns. Sketches from the academy vaults. Even that obscure forum post from Sword of Radiance where someone claimed to have unlocked a mirror boss event by watching their reflection for seven hours.

They died five seconds in.

I didn’t plan to die. Not again.

So I tested the sigil.

One shard of mirror. One bowl of water.

Draw the rune. Chant the link.

And—

"Professor?"

I nearly flung the shard across the room.

It was Leo’s voice.

I stared into the mirror shard, and sure enough—

The dormitory bathroom.

Leo brushing his teeth. Shirtless. Grumbling.

"I hate training," he muttered to no one. "I hate this school. I hate that I keep dreaming about rune pop quizzes."

I exhaled slowly.

The spell worked.

Across location, across wards. The mirror and water had linked.

But then—

Leo paused.

His eyes flicked to the mirror.

And for one impossible second, he looked straight at me.

"...Professor?" he said again. "Are you—?"

I slammed the shard face-down.

My heart pounded in my ears.

He shouldn’t have been able to see me.

Not unless the Echochain had reversed.

Or...

Not unless something else had used me as the link.

Elsewhere – Cassandra

Cassandra stood before the sealed well again.

The pendant in her hand was vibrating now.

Not softly. Not passively.

Aggressively.

As if it wanted to be thrown down the well.

She’d brought chalk this time. And blood.

Not hers.

She began to draw—looped, intricate runes that didn’t belong to any current curriculum. The kind that made professors frown and librarians whisper warnings. She’d memorized them from a dream.

No.

Not a dream.

A memory.

Someone else’s memory.

The last line was drawn.

She dropped the pendant into the well.

It screamed.

Not a sound.

But every tree nearby bent in its direction. Every shadow curved inward. Even the air got sharp.

And Cassandra, calm as ever, just said—

"Now show me what’s chained to him."

Back with Lucian

I didn’t sleep.

Couldn’t.

The mirror on my desk was wrapped tight, but it still hummed beneath the cloth.

I reached for the Grimoire one more time.

It opened without me asking.

A new page had formed.

One word written across the top:

[MIRRORMAKER]

Underneath, a note:

"Reflections lie. But sometimes, that’s the only truth worth trusting."

I didn’t understand it.

But I would.

I had to.

Because whatever had followed me out of the Mirror Chamber was still watching.

And the next time I blinked—

I wasn’t sure I’d be the one to open my eyes.

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