Instead, he did what his father never taught him. He knelt.
“You’re late, son,” the reflection said in his father’s voice. “I held her for a hundred years. You couldn’t manage one morning?” mighty knight 2
Alric lay on his back, armor cracked open. No flame burned within. He was just a man—bleeding, breathing, alive. Instead, he did what his father never taught him
Behind Alric, Elara cried out—skeletal hands erupted from the earth, gripping her ankles. “I held her for a hundred years
“You don’t have to do this, Alric,” whispered Elara, his squire, her hand on the hilt of her own small sword. “The order is gone. The king is a shade in his own throne room.”
Alric had a choice. He could strike the mirror and shatter the illusion, but that would free the Lich-Queen directly. Or he could bargain. Or run.
When the light faded, the mirror was gone. The bone-trees crumbled to harmless dust. The Lich-Queen’s scream echoed once, then vanished.