Tower of Thorns Tower of Fangs Volume 4 chapter 28

 

Volume IV  The White King

ARC V  THE WINTER WAR

Chapter 28  Eemil's Scheme

Far from Everfrost. Far from the frozen kingdom. Far from the dancing curtains of northern light. A tower watched. The Mirror Tower. Ancient and silent. Hidden from mortal maps. It rose from a jagged black cliff that overlooked an endless sea of silver mist. The waves below could not be seen. Only heard. A distant roar beneath the fog. The tower itself seemed impossible. Its walls were not stone. Not metal. They appeared carved entirely from polished silver glass. Smooth as still water. Reflective as a mirror. Moonlight slid across its surface. Creating the illusion that the entire structure was melting into the night sky. No windows. No banners. No guards. Only mirrors. Thousands. Millions. Every wall. Every floor. Every ceiling. An endless labyrinth of reflections stretching into infinity. And within its highest chamber someone smiled. Eemil. The Shadow King. The Keeper of Mirrors. Lord of the Shadow creatures, The One Who Watched. He sat upon a throne fashioned from black crystal and silver glass. The throne rose from the floor like frozen shadow. Sharp. Elegant. Dangerous. His dark hair was cut short, framing a handsome face that seemed untouched by time. Silver eyes glowed softly within the darkness. Like moonlight trapped beneath ice. Unlike the White King there was warmth in his smile. Which somehow made him more frightening. Because nothing about it felt genuine. The mirrors surrounding him shimmered. Thousands of reflections awakened. Countless worlds. Countless places. Countless lives. Every mirror showed something different. A kingdom beneath golden sunlight. A battlefield burning beneath crimson skies. A crowded city glittering with lanterns. A forest swallowed by mist. And in nearly every reflection one person appeared. Moon.

Eemil laughed softly.

"Still beautiful."

The words echoed through the chamber. Like a prayer. Like a curse. Like obsession. The mirror before him shifted. Everfrost Citadel appeared. Its crystal towers pierced the snowy clouds. Silver bridges connected frozen spires. Snow drifted endlessly through the air. Moon stood upon a balcony overlooking the kingdom. Snowflakes settled in his long black hair. Moon fairies drifted around him like tiny stars. Toivo stood nearby. Watching him. The way someone watches sunlight after a long winter.Eemil's smile widened.

"There it is."

A voice emerged from the shadows.

"You enjoy this far too much."

Another figure stepped into the chamber. Matias. The Laughing One. The Jester. His face remained hidden beneath an ornate smiling mask painted white and gold. The frozen grin never changed. Yet even standing still he radiated madness. Like a storm pretending to be a man. 

Eemil glanced toward him.

"You found them."

Matias shrugged.

"They found themselves."

The mirrors continued shifting. Displaying Everfrost. Displaying Moon. Displaying Toivo. Displaying the White King.

Matias suddenly laughed.

"Oh."

His laughter echoed through the tower. Bouncing from mirror to mirror. Growing louder.

"This is going to end badly."

Eemil smiled.

"Of course it is."

The Shadow King rose from his throne. The mirrors illuminated around him.Thousands of reflections. Thousands of futures. Thousands of possibilities. Most ended in blood. Most ended in sorrow. Most ended exactly how Eemil wanted. He walked slowly toward the largest mirror. A colossal sheet of silver glass taller than a cathedral gate. Its surface shimmered like liquid mercury. Within it appeared Everfrost. The White King. Moon. Toivo. All standing upon different paths. All moving toward the same inevitable collision. Eemil touched the glass. The reflection rippled outward. Then shattered. Metaphysically. Possibilities fractured. Future after future splintered apart. New outcomes emerged. Darker outcomes. More dangerous outcomes.

The Shadow King smiled.

"He's remembering."

Matias stopped laughing. The statement mattered. Because they both understood what it meant. Moon was remembering. The past. The betrayal. The truth. And if Moon remembered everything The game ended. The room grew quiet.

 Matias looked concerned.

"Then we're running out of time."

Eemil nodded.

"Yes."

A pause.

"We are."

The mirrors shifted again. This time revealing another figure. The Blood Wraith. Not in Everfrost. Not near the others. Far to the south. Standing atop the ruins of a forgotten fortress swallowed by dead forests. Broken towers surrounded him. Ancient stone walls lay shattered beneath snow and ash. The sky above was dark red. Storm clouds churned overhead. Lightning flashed silently beyond the horizon. The Blood Wraith stood motionless among the ruins. Watching. Waiting. His black armor gleamed like polished obsidian. Ancient runes glowed faintly across its surface. A crimson cloak flowed behind him in a wind that did not exist. At his feet lay the remains of something enormous. A monster. Dead. Its skeletal body stretched across the ruined courtyard. Its skull alone was larger than a carriage. The Blood Wraith had clearly killed it. And judging by the destruction surrounding him the battle had not been gentle. Even through a reflection he felt dangerous. Ancient. Relentless.As though war itself had learned how to walk.

Eemil's smile faded slightly.

"The Blood Wraith is moving too."

Matias groaned.

"Wonderful."

Another complication. Another piece entering the board. The Blood Wraith had spent months hunting forgotten creatures and gathering information across the southern kingdoms. Now he was heading north. Toward Everfrost. Toward Moon. Toward whatever truth waited at the center of this story.

Eemil looked amused.

"The board has always been crowded."

The Shadow King turned away from the mirrors. Then spoke words that caused even Matias to become silent.

"It's time."

The chamber darkened. Every mirror within the tower illuminated simultaneously. Thousands of reflections. Thousands of eyes. Thousands of worlds. Watching. Listening. Waiting. Eemil raised one hand. Shadow gathered around his fingers. Not darkness. Something deeper. The absence of possibility itself. The destruction of choice. The death of futures. A power older than kingdoms. Older than empires. A fragment of stolen divinity. The power he acquired long ago. The power bought with betrayal. The mirrors trembled. Then one by one they opened. Portals. Gateways. Doors. Across the world. Across continents. Across kingdoms. Across reality itself. Silver surfaces became swirling voids. And something began moving. Armies. Hidden servants. Forgotten monsters. Shadow-born horrors. Creatures with glowing eyes emerged from darkness between worlds. All answering the same command. All moving north. Toward Everfrost. Toward Moon. Toward war.

Eemil watched the mirrors quietly.

Then whispered:

"You always were too kind, Atsuki."

The name lingered. Ancient. Forgotten. Loved.Hated.

The Shadow King's silver eyes darkened.

"And kindness always loses."

For a moment something strange crossed his face. Sadness. Gone almost immediately. Yet real. Matias noticed. He said nothing. Because some wounds belonged to all three of them. Even now. Even after centuries. Even after betrayal. Eemil looked toward the north. Toward Everfrost. Toward the boy he once called friend. Then his smile returned. Cold. Beautiful. Dangerous. And in that moment the first move of the Winter War began.