Chapter 6 – The Mirror Temple and the Memory That Bled
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The moon was a hollow eye in the sky, watching from behind torn clouds. The cabin was quiet, but sleep wouldn't come to James. His muscles ached. His spirit—no, his aura—still hummed from the earlier battle.
But it wasn't pain that kept him up.
It was the name Kaela hadn't said.
> "Someone you loved."
James stared at the ceiling. Memories crawled up from the dark like whispers under a door. He hadn't thought about them in years. He didn't want to.
Yet now, he would have to face them.
He sat up, swung his legs over the bed, and winced. Even with the healing tea, his ribs felt like cracked glass under skin. But something had shifted in him since the first trial. A fire had settled in—not loud, but patient. Focused.
Kaela stood by the door already, arms folded, her staff slung across her back like a tired bird. Her cloak was damp from the morning mist.
"You're late," she said, voice cool.
"It's 4 AM," James muttered, tying his boots.
"Exactly. The Mirror Temple sleeps during dawn. We have two hours."
James followed her into the jungle trail.
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The forest at night was an orchestra of things that breathed and blinked without eyes. The path wound tighter the deeper they walked, roots crawling like skeletal hands over stone. The torch Kaela carried burned blue—enchanted fire.
James hated how comforting it felt.
"Kaela," he said, finally, as the silence grew thick. "Who... who am I about to see?"
She didn't stop walking. "The temple chooses. But it pulls from you."
James swallowed. "So, if I'm not ready—"
"It will tear you apart," she said bluntly.
Wonderful.
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The Mirror Temple wasn't made of mirrors.
Not in the way James expected.
It was a dome carved into the base of the island's largest root system, a living cave that pulsed slightly with light. The walls were covered in natural crystal—transparent, jagged, reflective. As they walked inside, James saw himself reflected from a thousand angles—tall, small, burning, broken.
Each one showed something slightly off. An expression that didn't match. A version that blinked late. A twin who smiled when he didn't.
"Don't look too long," Kaela warned, handing him a black ribbon. "Tie this around your wrist. It keeps your soul tethered to your real self."
He nodded, hands shaking.
"What happens if I fail?"
Kaela didn't answer.
---
The trial began without warning.
The ground dropped.
James fell, screaming—past roots, light, and a pulsing sound like a heartbeat underwater. And then—
Silence.
He landed not with a crash, but a breath.
And suddenly, he wasn't in the temple anymore.
He was in his old room. His childhood home. The same crack on the windowpane. The same smell of cinnamon and sea air. But it was wrong. Too clean. Too quiet.
And then she appeared.
Standing at the door.
"James," she said, softly. "You're late for the beach."
James froze. "Lia..."
His sister.
Gone since the day of the storm. Gone with his parents.
She walked in, wearing the old ocean-blue dress, her hair tied in the way she always hated. Everything in him screamed this isn't real. But gods, she looked so real.
"I packed your favorite chips," she said. "Salt and pepper ones."
James couldn't move. Couldn't breathe.
"I missed you," she whispered.
"I... you're not her," James said, stepping back. "You can't be."
The aura around the room shifted.
Lia's eyes darkened.
"You left me to die."
"No—"
"You ran. You didn't save me. You saved yourself."
Her voice echoed from every corner of the room now.
James's fire flared in response. The room melted into a battlefield—same size, same walls—but charred, broken. The illusion dropped. The temple revealed its true face: this wasn't just Lia.
This was his guilt about her.
She charged.
James barely raised his arms in time—his own sister, now glowing with a blue aura, water lashing from her fingers like whips of memory.
The second trial had begun.
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Water sliced across the space between them with terrifying precision.
James ducked, the stream of pressure-thick liquid tearing through the air where his neck had been a heartbeat earlier. The impact shattered one of the nearby crystal mirrors, spraying glinting shards across the ground like glass confetti.
> "She's not real," James told himself, heart pounding. "She's not Lia. This is the Mirror Temple... this is me."
But it didn't matter.
The weight of her voice... her face... the disappointment in her eyes—it felt realer than anything he had felt in years.
Lia stood still now, maybe ten feet away. She tilted her head.
"You never even tried to come back for me," she said, stepping closer, her bare feet making no sound against the memory-formed floor. "You ran. You left."
James flinched. He remembered that night. The waves. The lightning. His aunt screaming his name, pulling him up the crumbling hill. Lia had slipped... and he had let go.
"I was a kid!" he shouted. His voice cracked, trembling with pain and fury. "I was scared! I didn't know! I didn't—"
"You always find excuses."
The fake Lia raised her hand. A sphere of water rose above her palm, swirling violently.
James's aura flickered to life—a thin red flame dancing along his forearms, but it sputtered, unstable.
"You're not ready," she whispered.
And then, she attacked.
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The water sphere burst into a barrage of spiraling darts. James leaped sideways, rolled over cracked floorboards that didn't exist in reality, and clenched his fists.
Stage One.
His aura sparked—Red. Heat rippled through the air. A sudden wall of fire erupted around him, deflecting several water darts into steam.
He coughed, eyes wide. Okay... okay, it's working.
But not well enough.
A sudden kick slammed into his ribs from behind. He hadn't even seen her move.
James flew across the temple space, skidding to a stop against a jagged crystal. Blood bloomed across his shirt.
The Lia-illusion walked forward slowly, sadly.
"You couldn't save me then," she said. "You won't save anyone now."
> "She's not real."
> "She's not Lia."
James clenched his fists, jaw trembling. He could still remember her laugh, the way she used to sneak him candy after lights-out. The way she hugged him when he cried because his parents forgot his birthday again.
The guilt burned deeper than the fire in his veins.
"I—I know I can't change the past," he said, voice shaking. "But I am trying to change the future."
For a moment, the illusion faltered. The room flickered. The Lia-copy blinked as if unsure of her place in this world.
James stood up, blood dripping from his lip, aura flaring.
"You're just a part of my pain. A reflection. But I'm done letting you control me."
The temple responded to his words.
Suddenly, the ground shifted again, and the memory-room dissolved entirely into a battlefield of mirrors—hundreds of them surrounding James and his opponent in a glowing circle. Each mirror now showed different versions of Lia—some smiling, some crying, some burning.
"You want to forget me," Mirror-Lia whispered, now surrounded by water snakes that slithered in the air. "But to move forward, you have to forgive yourself first."
James hesitated.
Was it really that simple?
Or was this another trick?
She struck again—this time, faster than ever. Liquid blades danced from her fingertips, each strike humming with emotional weight. But James moved too—faster. His body remembered the training with Kaela, the instinct, the flame.
The fire inside him was no longer just fire.
It was anger.
Shame.
Hope.
The red aura intensified, but something inside it twisted—flickered—mutated. For a split second, the flames went black. But then—
He roared.
A wave of red light exploded outward, pushing back the fake Lia, shattering half the mirrors in the chamber. Crystals cracked. Water hissed as it boiled on contact.
She kneeled, coughing, her form starting to flicker.
James walked toward her, slowly, carefully.
"You're not her," he said. "But thank you."
"For what?" she rasped.
"For reminding me I still carry her with me."
He raised a hand—and with a soft pulse of fire, not rage but peace, he let the aura dissolve the illusion.
The copy faded—her last look not of hate, but a faint smile, like the real Lia used to wear.
---
The temple rumbled. A low hum filled the air. The mirrors turned dark, and the entire battlefield dimmed to black.
Kaela's voice echoed through the dark:
> "Trial Two: Passed."
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James awoke with a gasp, lying on stone. The ribbon still wrapped around his wrist was glowing faintly.
Kaela knelt beside him, pouring water into a cup.
"You lasted longer than most," she said without looking at him. "Many fail there. Some... stay forever."
James sat up, shaky. "She was... so real."
Kaela finally looked at him. There was a softness in her expression for once. "The past always is."
She handed him the cup.
He drank, and as the water cooled the heat in his body, he realized something had shifted—not just inside him, but in the air itself.
His aura had deepened.
It no longer flared wildly. It flowed, controlled, like a heartbeat synced with his soul.
Kaela smiled, almost proud. "You're beginning to understand the real power of the emotional aura."
James nodded, eyes tired but determined.
"What's next?"
She stood, offering a hand.
"Trial Three," she said. "You'll need everything you've got."
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The storm raged across the island skies, but beneath the chaos, James stood frozen—his breath heavy, his knuckles white. The strange blue symbol on his palm pulsed like a heartbeat, synced with the wild winds surrounding him.
"James... what the hell is happening to you?" Alicia's voice trembled as she reached out, her fingers brushing his arm.
James blinked, his vision adjusting. The world seemed slower. The raindrops hung mid-air for a second longer than they should. His senses were sharp, sharper than ever before.
"I... I don't know. But I feel like the storm is listening to me."
A crack of thunder split the sky above, and a massive bolt of lightning stabbed into the ocean near them, sending a shockwave through the sand. Alicia stumbled back, shielding her face from the blast.
"Careful!" James called out, instinctively raising his hand. The moment he did, a translucent dome of glowing blue energy flickered into existence around her, shielding her from the debris.
Her eyes widened. "That wasn't water... that was... something else."
James looked at his hand, stunned. The aura—it wasn't just reacting anymore. It was protecting.
Before they could process it, a low rumble echoed from the jungle behind them. Trees rustled violently, despite the wind slowing down. And then... the sound of footsteps. Heavy. Inhuman.
Three figures emerged from the dark forest. All wore cloaks, marked with a silver insignia none of them recognized—an eclipse swallowing a heart-shaped gem.
"Who are you?" James stepped forward, instinctively placing himself between Alicia and the newcomers.
The tallest figure laughed, removing his hood. His eyes glowed yellow, pupils crackling with electric sparks. "Finally found you, island boy."
James's fists clenched. "How do you know about me?"
"We know more than you think," the second figure said—a woman with a vine wrapping down her arm. "You've been awakened. That's rare. Most of us... we had to bleed for our first aura."
"You're not from this island."
The third didn't speak. He just stepped forward and in a blur, vanished. James's instincts screamed. He turned, catching a flicker in the corner of his vision just before a palm shot toward his head.
He ducked. The strike whistled past. James rolled back and launched a burst of energy—blue water-like aura that hissed through the air. The attacker reappeared mid-slide, arms crossed, absorbing the blast.
"Good," the tall one said with a grin. "Very good. Let's test what you've got."
And the real fight began.
James dashed forward, aura flaring around his fists. His punches weren't just stronger—they felt alive. Every movement flowed like water, adapting mid-swing as if his body already knew what came next.
The vine-woman countered with razor-sharp roots bursting from her palms, which James narrowly dodged. Alicia, meanwhile, activated her own aura—green flickers sparking from her fingers, sending out a gust of wind laced with tiny thorns.
The cloaked trio clearly weren't ordinary scouts. Their moves were calculated, trained, and merciless. James felt it in every impact—this was a test. Or maybe... a warning.
Mid-fight, James's vision blurred. The blue aura around him rippled violently. Time seemed to slow again—just for him. In that instant, he saw every attack, every dodge, every possibility.
"Is this the next level?" he whispered.
His aura exploded outward, a shimmering dome of tidal force pushing the enemies back. The shockwave rattled the trees, shaking the stormclouds above. Rain halted mid-fall for a brief second as energy surged around him.
All three attackers paused.
"You've already reached Phase Two?" the tall man asked, genuine shock in his voice.
James didn't reply. His heart pounded too fast. He was burning through energy like never before.
Alicia grabbed his shoulder. "We have to run. You're not stable."
"I can't... leave this unfinished."
"You'll die if you don't!" she shouted.
He looked into her eyes. The storm calmed slightly. Her touch grounded him.
"...Fine."
With a roar, James released a pulse of aura behind them, forming a massive wave that surged through the jungle, creating a wall between them and the enemies. He grabbed Alicia's hand, and they sprinted through the narrow cliffside path toward the forest cabin.
Behind them, the vine-woman smirked. "He's going to be a problem."
The tall man cracked his knuckles. "No. He's going to be an asset. Eventually."
Back at the cabin, James collapsed, sweat drenching his body, steam rising from his arms. His eyes were still glowing faintly blue.
"Your aura evolved again," Alicia whispered, sitting beside him.
James nodded. "And we're not alone anymore."
She looked at the horizon—toward the school hidden deep within the center of the world, and the war in the Metaverse beyond.
The story was just beginning.
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