Round 202 Transcript

As I finish speaking, Halie's eyes widen as she reads the runes on the box. "It's a riddle," she says, her voice barely above a whisper. "The key fits perfectly into the lock, and it turns with a satisfying click." The sound echoes through the chamber, and for a moment, everything feels still. The air seems to vibrate with anticipation as Halie steps back, holding up the box and examining it more closely. The runes on its surface are now smooth, but I can sense a hidden pattern waiting to be deciphered. Jeane's ward holds steady, her exhaustion evident in the faint tremble of her fingers. Suddenly, the lock's mechanism whirs to life, and a hidden compartment opens with a soft creak. Inside, a small, ornate mirror glimmers, surrounded by a halo of soft, blue light. The tendril against me pulses rapidly, as if it's reacting to the mirror's presence.

Jeane: I stare at the mirror with narrowed eyes. A riddle solved, but we've just opened another box. The blue light from it makes my skin crawl—magical artifacts with glowing halos are about as subtle as a punch in the face when it comes to being dangerous. My wings shift uncomfortably behind me; even they seem uneasy about this thing. That tendril is practically vibrating now. I can feel its excitement through whatever unholy connection Abaddon forged between us, and that never means anything good. It's like having a pet snake that gets twitchy right before the whole damn room catches fire. I turn to Halie. What exactly does this thing do? Because glowing magical artifacts in cursed libraries are usually either keys to worse problems or tickets for our souls. The ward is costing me more magic by the second—if whatever happens next requires a spell, I might not have the juice left to cast it. Abby's holding that key like it's made of glass and one wrong move will shatter reality. She's got guts, I'll give her that. But guts don't stop you from accidentally summoning something that eats worlds for breakfast. The mirror pulses again, and the light intensifies just a fraction. Fine. If we're going to do this, let's do it fast before my legs give out or whatever's in that book decides we've taken too long with its personal property. Hand me that box—if there are traps or hidden spells on it, I want to at least have the chance to dispel them before they turn us all inside out. And someone keep an eye on that ceiling—I swear I felt movement up there earlier and tendrils don't just decide to take afternoon naps in active dungeons. If something's watching us, I'd rather know about it before it drops down like a spider on flies. This whole situation is walking that fine line between 'clever puzzle' and 'cosmic dick-measurement,' and right now I'm not sure which side we're on.

I watch as Jeane takes the box from Halie, her expression one of grim determination mixed with deep unease. She's right—the fact that this thing is glowing is usually a bad sign in places like this. I can feel my own heart hammering against my ribs as she examines it for traps or hidden spells. The tendril against my breast has settled into a steady, almost reassuring pulse now, which is worrying in its own way. It's like it knows something we don't. As Jeane turns her attention to the mirror, I find myself drawn closer too, unable to resist the pull of its soft blue light. The air around it seems to shimmer, and for a moment, I could swear I see faint shapes moving within its surface—like ghosts trapped in glass. A chill runs down my spine, but not entirely from fear. There’s an undeniable allure to it, a promise of secrets waiting to be revealed.
"I... I think we should look at it," I say softly, my voice almost lost in the heavy air. My hand twitches towards the mirror, wanting to touch its cool surface. It feels like staring into an abyss—a beautiful one, but still an abyss.
The tendril pulses harder, a sharp warning that snaps me out of my trance. I pull my hand back quickly, as if I've been burned. Jeane is right—the fact that this thing is affecting us so strongly means it could be dangerous. But we have no choice now. We either look or we leave, and leaving isn't an option with Zha'thik still out there somewhere.
"I mean, if there’s something important in there... we need to know what it is," I add, trying to sound more confident than I feel. I give a small shrug, my eyes darting between the mirror and Jeane's face. "Unless you think it could hurt us?"
I look at Halie for support, but she seems just as captivated by the mirror as I am. Her eyes are wide, her fingers tracing the edge of the box almost absentmindedly. It’s clear we’re all drawn to it, even if we know we shouldn’t be.*