Round 15

The air crackled with dark energy as the entity's magic swirled through the chamber. Merrin approached the mirror cautiously, her sharp eyes scanning every inch of its ominous surface. Cold, she muttered under her breath, feeling the malevolent chill seep into her bones. But there was something else beneath the surface—a faint pulse of ancient power that set her teeth on edge.*

She could sense the magic's complexity—the intricate web of spells that bound this entity here for centuries. No simple binding, she thought, this is craftsmanship. "Jeane," she called out, her voice barely above a whisper, "I don't think this is meant to show us visions. I think it's meant to show us the truth." The mirror pulsed in response, and an image began to form—a beautiful woman in elegant robes, her face twisted with rage and betrayal.*