The God of Mischief and Madness

I landed hard on my hands, panting. Sweat clung to my skin.

Had it not worked?

I was still on the plaza.

The Gate's roar had vanished... but the world kept shaking. A deep, physical tremor I could feel in my bones.

Then, finally, silence.

The air felt wrong.

Too thin. Too sharp. Like the wind had sped up, and every breath came a second too late.

I forced myself to look up.

And there it was.

The Citadel of Mirrors.

Towering. Blinding. Unreal.

Up close, it wasn't just tall... it was endless.

The Gate to the Reverie was in the Citadel. That is where I would go if she was gone.

The rings around it, three vast, concentric tiers, weren't just design.

They were city.

A spiralling, radiant city of its own, glimmering just as bright as the Citadel it fed.

I tried to stand. My legs barely held. The shaking hadn't stopped inside me.

Slowly, I turned around.

At the edge of the plaza, far behind me, a massive viewing platform jutted out over open air.

A window to the world below.

To Halden.

And everything I'd left behind.

The city looked smaller from up here than I'd expected. Like it had always been shrinking, and I'd just never noticed.

Or maybe it was just a matter of perspective.

The Citadel wasn't bigger than I'd imagined. It was worse than that.

It had always been this size.

I was just the one who'd stayed small.

One time, Anya and I had lain in the grass, side by side.

She asked me what I thought living on the Citadel would feel like.

She'd been staring at the Shard then. Quietly, intently.

I hadn't answered.

Because back then, it didn't feel like it concerned us.

Because the truth was...

All I could see was her.

—

I walked forward, toward the Citadel.

Everything was shiny.

Too shiny.

At the far end of the plaza, a wide staircase led upward, toward the first ring.

I started to climb.

By the third step, I was already panting.

Then a shadow appeared behind me.

I turned.

Anya?

No.

Just the light catching on the mirrored walls. Just a trick.

I stood there for a second too long.

I told myself I was just tired. No big deal.

But the higher I went, the heavier everything felt.

By the time I reached the first ring, the city had fully woken.

People were emerging from the higher tiers, crossing footbridges overhead... but they weren't rushing.

They were watching.

Some leaned on mirrored railings, still and silent. Others simply stood at windows, half-dressed or sipping something bright from porcelain mugs.

They didn't look down with curiosity.

They looked down with expectation.

Like they did this every morning.

Waiting to see who the Citadel had chosen.

I tried not to stare. I kept my head down and walked forwards.

Was this how it felt for her?

That first day... stepping into a place that wasn't made to welcome you?

No...

Anya would've walked with her head high.

Shoulders straight. Eyes forward.

Even if she was terrified, she never showed it.

It was quieter than I expected. The streets were wide and polished, edged with low buildings.

Sleek, silver-lined, impossibly clean.

The kind of clean that felt staged.

That's when I saw him.

Light pooled across the marble. Every surface gleamed... too clean, too quiet.

A figure stood waiting at the top.

He wore a white suit, crisply tailored, with a long white coat draped instead of a blazer, its hem just brushing the polished floor. No insignia. No weapon.

Just presence.

His hair was a soft gold, eyes hidden behind pale glasses that caught the light like water.

He looked like he was a part of the Citadel itself.

"You made it," he said, like he already knew my name.

I stopped, unsure what to say.

He didn't seem to mind.

"A little late, maybe. But the Gate doesn't always keep perfect time."

I opened my mouth to explain, or ask, but he was already turning away.

"Come. The others will want to meet you before orientation."

I hesitated.

I didn't answer right away.My eyes were still scanning the walkways above, the mirrored corridors, the windows that didn't show their insides.

If she was still here... still training... I could reach her. I hadn't come for the Citadel. I came for her.

"Do you know where Anya is?" I asked, too sharp, too fast.

He tilted his head slightly, the light catching his glasses — no eyes behind them. Just reflection.

"Everyone's somewhere," he said. "The city has a way of revealing what you're really looking for."

Then he turned away like that settled it.

"Come. The others will want to meet you before orientation."

I stood there. Just long enough to think about turning back.

But if he knew where she was...If anyone here knew...

Then I needed to play along.

Just for now.

I followed.

Not because I trusted him.

But because something about his voice made it feel like I'd already done this before.

—

We passed through a wide archway, framed by mirrors that shimmered instead of reflected. The light bent strangely here. I kept expecting to cast a shadow, but none ever stuck.

The city beyond was impossibly clean. Walkways of pale stone curved around smooth buildings with glasslike surfaces, their edges too perfect to be real.

Everything here gleamed, but nothing shone with warmth. The light felt… filtered.

Above us, suspended glass footbridges connected the upper rings. I caught glimpses of people watching from above. Some were leaning, others just still. Not speaking. Not moving.

The path curved gently, and the glass walls along one side reflected our movement, only... something was off.

I didn't look quite right.

One reflection was smiling.

Another was wearing Anya's ring.

One blinked a second late.

I looked away, reaching for my pocket. It was still there.

"Do the reflections always do that?" I asked, quieter now.

He stopped. Turned slightly.

"They don't lie," he said. "They just remember… differently."

Then he kept walking.

I looked away.

But just before the mirror turned flat again…

I thought I saw her.

Anya.

With me. My reflection.

Laughing together like nothing was wrong.

I blinked. It was gone. Just my reflection again.

I clenched my jaw.

But something was wrong.

The mirror hadn't gone flat.

A fracture had split my reflection. A clean, jagged crack from forehead to heart.

Right down the middle.

I reached out.The glass didn't ripple.

But I did.

I clenched my jaw.Not real. Just a trick of the light.

I hurried to keep up.

In the distance, I glimpsed figures in uniform... the Marked, I realized, training silently in glass chambers. Their movements were precise, almost mechanical. I saw one girl walk into a mirror and vanish. No sound. No struggle. Just... gone.

Somewhere above us, a chime rang out high and clear, like a bell forged from light instead of metal.

The man in white stopped in front of a low, obsidian-black structure nestled against a reflective hill. It hummed faintly. Unlike everything else, it didn't gleam.

"This is where you're meant to be. For now."

I stared at the building.

"Orientation," he added, as if that explained anything.

A second figure was already approaching from the other side. Another uniformed attendant, younger, clipboard in hand. They didn't speak to me. Just waited.

The man in white adjusted his sleeves. The light caught his glasses again, still no eyes behind them. Just reflections.

Then he turned.

Walked away.

And paused in front of a mirrored wall.

Leaned back with a mischievous grin.

"Try not to break too quickly, she'll need you whole."

One moment he was there.

The next, only my reflection remained.

I was alone again.

How did he know about her?

He didn't know anything. He couldn't.

…Could he?

I looked at the attendant. Still waiting. Still silent.

I took a breath and stepped forward.

I wasn't sure what I'd expected.

But it wasn't this.

Not silence. Not welcome.

And definitely not a city that already knew my name.

I scanned the mirrored halls ahead.

She had to be here.

Somewhere inside this perfect lie.

I just had to find her.