The Mirror of Truth

The sound of teeth grinding echoed from between Mayril’s lips as she listened to the maids. How dare they call the words of her god a sham? Mayril nearly stormed off to confront the Emperor but checked herself.

‘I’ll show that brat exactly what kind of monster his father was.’

Chase seemed to believe the prophecy was an error simply because he was ignorant of his own lineage. Imagining the look of despair that would soon warp Chase’s face, Mayril let out a thin, sharp laugh.

When the gossiping maids had vanished and darkness finally draped the sky in the deepest hours of the night, Mayril’s door creaked open. Stepping out into the hallway, she ghosted through the palace, killing the sound of her footsteps. Though it was well past midnight, sentries patrolled at intervals; she moved through the shadows, avoiding their gaze until she reached the entrance of the dungeon.

Finding the post unguarded, she thought nothing of it and descended.

Carefully navigating the damp, slick stone steps, she reached the level where Chase was held. She moved down the long corridor and came to a halt before a set of iron bars.

Assuming the prisoner inside was Chase, Mayril curled her lips into a cruel sneer and let out a tittering laugh.

“A fitting sight, isn’t it?”

“……”

“A place perfectly suited to your station. Filthy, gloomy… it matches your wretched bloodline to a tee.”

At her mockery, the silhouette inside shifted slightly. The flickering torches on the wall barely reached the interior of the cell, but the figure appeared to be sitting in a chair, facing her directly.

Is he paralyzed with fear? Mayril felt a fleeting sense of unease at how composed he seemed.

‘Impossible. They said he was screaming about his innocence just a few days ago.’

The more she thought of him, the more her resentment boiled. A child who should never have been conceived, let alone born.

The father was a monster, but the mother was just as loathsome. Asana—the girl who couldn’t comprehend the glory of serving a noble dragon. A girl who did nothing but wander and weep with resentful eyes when Mayril told her to leave the Great Forest if she hated her duties so much. To Mayril, any inhabitant of the forest who shirked their duty to the dragons was a parasite.

‘And parasites breed filth.’

Malice flickered in Mayril’s eyes. While dragons were technically neutral, most—aside from the eccentric Black Dragon—leaned toward the side of light. To think such a creature was brought into existence within the Great Forest… if Dalia were alive, Mayril would have torn her apart with her own hands.

Since Dalia was dead, Chase became the vessel for her fury. Gripping the iron bars with eyes burning with murderous intent, Mayril leaned in close, desperate to see the agony on his face. Yet, the figure remained perfectly still, sitting with a posture that was almost… regal.

Annoyed, Mayril clicked her tongue and spoke again.

“I heard you’ve been claiming you’re innocent?”

She saw the figure flinch. The sight of that composure cracking sent a jolt of pleasure straight to her gut. She wanted to crush him under the weight of his own reality.

“Hardly. Your very birth is a sin.”

She whispered it like a shared secret, her face contorted in a mocking grin. Inside the cell, she saw a pair of hands resting on knees tighten into white-knuckled fists.

Encouraged by the reaction, Mayril pressed on.

“Your mother committed an unspeakable act. I knew that wench would cause a disaster eventually. She brought something into the world that should never have seen the light, only to be abandoned by the very monster who sired it.”

There was no verbal response, but Mayril beamed, imagining the face in the shadows twisted in grief. She saved her sharpest venom for the end, letting her tongue flick like a blade.

“You were nothing more than a momentary plaything’s mistake. Yet Asana was foolish enough to cherish you, wasn’t she? And look where that got her. Death. You killed her. If you hadn’t existed, Asana would still be alive. You murderer.”

Having delivered the final blow, Mayril stepped back from the bars with a satisfied expression. She crossed her arms, waiting to hear the sound of him breaking. Instead, a calm, steady voice drifted out from the darkness.

“I think I understand how you feel. Actually, I used to feel the same way.”

“……?”

“I felt like someone else’s incompetence was staining my name. Even though, in reality, it wasn’t.”

“You…?”

The laughter died on Mayril’s face. The voice was familiar. As the person inside the cell stood up and walked toward the bars, the shadows retreated. The face revealed by the dim torchlight was not Chase’s.

“…The Crown Prince.”

“Tsk, tsk. You should call me ‘Your Highness.’”

Ailen, who had been mimicking Chase’s silhouette, gave her a bright, mocking smile. Mayril’s face contorted as she realized she had been lured into a trap and made a fool of.

Ailen used his divine authority to snap the lock on the cell door. He stepped out and stood directly in front of her.

“Didn’t you think it was strange? That there were no guards? Not even a jailer?”

Mayril remained silent, knowing anything she said would be used against her. Ailen began to slowly circle her, his voice low and rhythmic.

“Chase is actually a few levels further down. He doesn’t even know you’re here.”

“……”

“You were so excited to gloat that you didn’t even check if the person behind the bars was actually the boy.”

Ailen let out a short laugh. Mayril cast her gaze downward, forcing her face back into a mask of cold indifference, but Ailen continued his slow, predatory prowl around her.

“Or perhaps you hated Asana so much that you lost your common sense?”

“……”

“Is that why you distorted the prophecy of the very dragon you serve? Out of sheer spite?”

Mayril’s head snapped up. Ailen stopped walking. He leaned forward, tilting his head to meet her eyes with a piercing, accusatory stare.

‘Why am I being blamed?!’

She believed she had done nothing wrong. She had merely interpreted the prophecy to fit the likely outcome. Even the White Dragon had said he didn’t know what change the ‘distortion’ would bring.

‘A mere distortion cannot change fate.’

She believed it. The world would burn, just as the White Dragon saw. And it would be by Chase’s hand! He was the son of that man, after all. She was acting for the sake of the world. Without her, they would have trusted a vague distortion and let a cancer live until the world turned to ash. She deserved praise, not the Crown Prince’s scorn.

“I haven’t the slightest idea what you mean. Prophecy is absolute. How could I, a servant of the White Dragon, fabricate a divine word? Your accusation is preposterous.”

“Strictly speaking, you didn’t lie about the words themselves. But the lies you told here in the palace… let’s see.”

Ailen stood tall and closed his eyes as if thinking, then snapped them open.

“One lie was telling the boy that ‘that being’ abandoned him and Asana.”

“What…?”

“You know the truth, don’t you? He didn’t abandon them; he was forced to leave.”

Mayril’s eyes flickered. How could the Crown Prince know that? Only a handful of people in the Great Forest knew the details. Ailen’s next words struck her like a physical blow.

“And your other lie was hiding your status. Please forgive my past rudeness, Elder Priestess Mayril. Though, it is partly your fault for concealing your identity.”

“How… How do you know that?!”

Mayril was aghast. But then, a name flashed through her mind.

“Ita… That old fool told you!”

It had to be Ita. She must have told him about the prophecy and Chase’s father. As Mayril ground her teeth, already plotting how to purge the traitor, Ailen offered a casual, cool lie.

“No. I didn’t hear it from anyone.”

“Then how could you possibly know?!”

“I simply saw the same thing you did.”

“…What?”

“The very scenes your White Dragon glimpsed.”