CH. 62 The Trial of Truth, Part III
Sorien steps forward.
He does not hesitate.
He does not blink.
He only exhales once — as if bracing for winter’s first bite — and enters the mirror.
The surface swallows him whole.
The chamber shifts.
And then—
Everything changes.
---
Sorien stands in a dim nursery.
Empty.
No toys scattered.
No warmth.
No laughter.
Only one crib.
Perfectly neat.
Untouched.
Sorien frowns. “This… isn’t mine.”
A soft voice answers — not the Seer, not a memory.
A child.
Small.
Thin.
Dark-haired.
Sitting in the corner.
His eyes are enormous — too old for his tiny body — and his hands are folded in his lap like he’s afraid to take up space.
Sorien’s breath stops.
It’s him.
Maybe four years old.
The child lifts his head at the sound of footsteps, hope flickering—
—but it dies immediately when no one enters the doorway.
No mother.
No father.
No brothers.
Just silence.
Sorien watches, motionless.
The child curls tighter into himself.
And whispers:
“Don’t cry. If you cry, they’ll be angry.”
Adult Sorien flinches as if struck.
---
The scene shifts.
Young Gavin and Farro run through the hallways, laughing, swords in hand, chasing each other.
Young Sorien runs after them — breathless — trying to keep up.
“Wait! Please wait!”
They don’t hear him.
Or choose not to.
They slam the door behind them.
He reaches it.
He knocks.
He waits.
He sits on the cold stone floor.
Long enough for the light from the window to move across the hallway.
Adult Sorien watches himself grow smaller with every passing minute.
“I wasn’t slow,” he murmurs.
“I was just… ignored.”
---
The throne room emerges, but not in its glory.
The King is angry.
The Queen looks bored.
Young Sorien stands before them, holding a small bird with a broken wing.
“I found him hurt by the garden,” he says. “I thought maybe we could help—”
The King interrupts sharply.
“Enough. Throw it away.”
Sorien freezes.
“But— he’s alive—”
“Throw. It. Away.”
The Queen sighs.
“Honestly, Uriec, why indulge him? He’s far too soft.”
The King grabs the bird from Sorien’s hands and tosses it out the window.
The child doesn’t cry.
He just stands there.
Quiet.
Still.
Like someone learning how to disappear.
Adult Sorien’s hands curl into fists.
His voice is low.
“I remember this. I buried that bird myself.”
---
Another memory unfolds.
Young Sorien offers some of his food to a starving servant child.
The servant beams, grateful.
But Gavin appears, furious.
“You made us look bad!” Gavin shouts.
“Now Father will say we’re selfish!”
Farro joins in, confused but copying Gavin.
“Why’d you give your lunch away?! Now the cooks will blame ME!”
Gavin pushes him.
Farro shoves him again.
Sorien hits the ground.
Hard.
The brothers taunt him.
“Stop being weak.”
“Stop being soft.”
“Stop being you.”
Sorien doesn’t fight back.
He never fights back.
Adult Sorien squeezes his eyes shut.
“I didn’t want to hurt them,” he murmurs.
“I thought… if I stayed gentle, they’d stop.”
But the memory doesn’t let him hide.
---
A dim corridor appears.
Young Sorien hides behind a pillar, watching his parents praise Gavin.
“You will be a great king,” the Queen says.
“And Farro,” the King adds, “you will charm every kingdom.”
Sorien leans out, waiting—
Just waiting—
A glance.
A word.
A scrap of affection.
None comes.
The parents walk away.
The child steps out of the shadows.
Completely forgotten.
Adult Sorien’s voice cracks.
“I wanted them to see me.”
---
The chamber darkens.
A single memory emerges:
Young Sorien sits alone on the rooftop of the palace under a sky full of stars.
He’s hugging his knees.
Not crying.
Cry and they’ll be angry.
Cry and you prove Gavin right.
Cry and you are weak.
So he forces himself to whisper:
“I don’t need anyone.”
But when he thinks no one hears—
his voice breaks:
“…but I wish someone needed me.”
Adult Sorien stares at that small boy.
And something inside him shatters.
He whispers to his younger self:
“I see you now.”
The child lifts his head.
For the first time, he smiles.
The chamber dissolves in brilliant white.
---
Sorien returns
He steps out of the mirror.
Not crying.
But different.
Lighter.
Stronger.
Finally seen — by himself.
Farro grabs him in a sudden, tight hug.
Gavin hesitates…
Then joins.
Drew watches from the sidelines, chest tight.
Sorien breathes, voice steady:
“I’m no longer ashamed of who I was.”
The mirror behind him cracks—
glows—
and dissolves.