Round 191

Seraphine stared at the vision unfolding on the mirrors, her sharp elven features etched with horror and barely-contained fury. The sight of Merrin's lifeless body twisted something inside her—grief, yes, but also a cold anger that felt like it could crystallize into ice. She took an instinctive step back from the magical surfaces, one hand rising to clutch at her throat as if she could ward off the images by sheer will alone. Her dark elegant hair fell in disarray across her shoulders, and her refined robes were marked by days of travel and sleepless study—reminders of how far they'd come on this cursed journey. The revelation of Elric standing over Merrin's body was a gut-punch she hadn't braced for. Her mentor, the man who'd taken her in after her family's murder, who'd taught her everything she knew about magic... could he really have had a hand in this? The thought made her stomach churn. She forced herself to look away from the mirrors, focusing instead on the ethereal figure that spoke to them. Her keen intelligent gaze narrowed with suspicion. "What game are you playing?" she demanded, her voice low and controlled despite the turmoil roiling beneath the surface. "Showing us this... this atrocity... what purpose does it serve? Are we meant to believe Elric had a hand in Merrin's death? Or is this just another layer of torment?"