Episode 27
The knocking continued.
Three precise knocks. Then a pause. Again.
Jawad opened the door cautiously.
A man stood on the threshold, tall, cloaked in black, his face weathered by time. He held a leather-bound book close to his chest.
"I am the Archivist," he said in a voice like wind through dead leaves. "I've come about the mirror."
Rabaab froze behind Jawad. "How do you know?"
The man stepped inside, uninvited but oddly welcome—as if the house knew him.
He set the book on the table and opened it. Inside were sketches of objects—cursed ones. Daggers, boxes, dolls… and a mirror.
"This mirror belonged to the Order of Seven," he said. "A secret society that used reflective artifacts to trap spirits and manipulate memory. One escaped."
He pointed at the drawing.
"That mirror?"
The Archivist nodded. "It was never meant to be broken. It was meant to be sealed."
Jawad felt a chill. "We didn't seal it. We destroyed it."
"Then you've only made it angry."
The lights flickered. A breeze swept through the room though the windows were closed.
And in the corner of the room, one of the mirror shards pulsed again—dark and alive.
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