Vol. I Chapter VII: The Final Trial

Being separated from each other… that must be part of the trial, Lucius thought as he slowly followed the corridor.

The walls shimmered faintly, as if they were alive.

His footsteps echoed back at him, or was it something else?

He wandered on, deeper and deeper, until finally a passageway led him into an open chamber.

But the walls were not stone. Not wood. They were glass.

Mirrors.

Yet they reflected nothing. Not even his own reflection.

Only when Lucius stepped closer to one of the mirrors did the surface ripple like water, until an image slowly came into focus:

There sat Melissa. Human. Pale. Wearing a gray dress on a park bench. All around her was the world of order. The world of laws. The world of humans. His world. Asphalt. Noise. Emptiness. And her, with a vacant stare. Her shoulders slumped. Her eyes huge and weary. The spark that used to glitter inside her was gone.

Lucius’ heart clenched painfully.

That was Melissa if she chose to follow him into his world. A tamed version of her.

And thus… destroyed.

At least, that’s what the mirror suggested.

And whether it was a trick or the truth, the sight made Lucius shiver.

He tore his gaze away, only for the next mirror to spring to life before him:

Tongues of flame licked the darkness. A midnight festival deep in the woods. Drums hammered like heartbeats.

And there, Melissa, just as he’d first met her. Horns. Hooves. Wild hair.

She was surrounded by nymphs, maenads, and other satyrs. She danced, laughed, sang. She was radiant. Perfect. Without him.

He turned away, breathing heavily.

His newly muscular body trembled beneath the weight of these truths.

I could bring her with me… but then she’d lose everything that makes her who she is. I can’t steal her from her own world.

He looked down at his hands.

I’d rather give up my own humanity…

He moved past more mirrors, each one displaying a different version of Melissa. Yet in every single one, she was only happy without him. His eyes darted from image to image. In one mirror, he saw Melissa bound to a tree. Dionysus stood before her, his gaze furious. She screamed. Lucius stood beside her, silent. Powerless.

Then the image shifted, she burned.

His stomach twisted in agony. His fists twitched. He wanted to run. But the next mirror held him fast:

His basement. The summoning. But this time, Melissa never appeared. He tried again. Nothing. Then the image changed, and he saw himself. Old. Gray. Alone. Dust-covered bottles of wine. The spellbook yellowed and brittle. No dance. No life.

Lucius felt his chest tighten as though he were trying to breathe beneath a crushing weight.

Is that our fate?

He wanted to close his eyes. But more visions sprang up. New possibilities, one after another, each showing how he might lose her, or how he would destroy her life.

A voice whispered in his mind:

You’re a fool, Lucius. You don’t deserve her. You’ll only ruin her.

He swallowed hard, his throat dry. Rage bubbled up inside him.

“No… NO!”

His fur bristled as fury ripped through him. His muscles tightened, claws digging into his palms. Something wild and animalistic rose within him. An unstoppable scream built in his chest:

“AHHHHHHHHH!!!”

He slammed his fists into the glass. He kept punching, again and again. He wanted to shatter the lies, he refused to accept these realities.

When splinters of glass had piled up all around him, Lucius finally collapsed, breathing hard, exhausted. A dull ache pounded in his skull. His heart raced.

Yet even in his fury, another voice crept into his thoughts:

What if the mirrors were right? What if there really is no place for me by her side?

Lucius pressed his bloody hands to his face.

What if all I’ll ever do… is drag her into misery?

His body trembled. He felt the coldness of the stone walls around him. The silence of the labyrinth pressing in.

Maybe she deserves a life without me. Maybe I’m just a shadow in her light. Maybe… I should just let her go.

For a moment, he truly believed he might do it. Just give up. His arms fell limply to his sides. Blood smeared his cheeks. His gaze became unfocused, staring into the gray stone imprisoning him.

Then, in the dim light, something caught his eye.

Among the splintered shards stood one last mirror at the far end of the chamber. Lucius blinked. His pulse began to race again.

Hesitant, as though terrified of what he might see, he dragged himself closer, prepared to smash this mirror as well.

But then he froze.

There, inside the glass, was a child.

Melissa.

Small. Pale. With tiny horns sprouting from her head. She sat on the floor, weeping, her arms wrapped around her knees. Slowly, she lifted her head. Her lips barely moved, but Lucius heard her voice as clearly as if she were standing beside him:

“Why don’t you come to me? Everyone always leaves…” She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “I thought… you would stay.”

Lucius recoiled in shock. He stared at the small face, so unmistakably hers. The same expression. The same amber eyes.

“Will you stay? Or is it easier… to forget me?”

He stepped toward the mirror without expression. But this time, he didn’t raise his fist. He knelt down. Placed one hand against the glass. Lucius’ chest heaved. His rage fell away.

What remained was something else. A truth, bright and unmistakable, deep from inside him.

“No,” he whispered. “I will never leave you alone again. Not you. Not her. Never again. Your future doesn’t lie in any of these mirrors. It’s in your hands. No… in our hands.”

Tears rolled down his cheeks and the mirror began to shimmer. The ground beneath him trembled and the mirror’s surface quivered, then melted away.

Lucius’ hand, still pressed to the glass, sank through. And with it… his entire body.

Suddenly, he found himself on the other side. Back in a corridor of the labyrinth.

No more mirrors. Only silence.

Slowly, he picked himself up. Wiping tears and blood from his face.

Lucius started walking. The floor beneath his hooves was cold. Every wall looked identical, veined with dark roots. He rounded another corner, only to see the same blank wall again. He stopped, rubbing his temples. His heart was racing.

“Melissa… where are you?” he whispered softly.

He kept moving until the air around him changed to the sound of trickling water. He followed a breath of wind and discovered a narrow gap in the wall. Just wide enough for him to squeeze through.

On the other side, he found himself in a clearing. Blooming plants sprawled over mossy stones. A narrow stream murmured through the grass. And there, at the water’s edge, her bare human feet splashing in the stream, sat Melissa.

She looked exhausted, her face hidden in her hands. When she heard him, she lifted her head slowly.

A brief flicker of suspicion in her eyes. For a single heartbeat, they simply stared at each other. Then they both rushed forward and fell into each other’s arms.

For a moment, they said nothing at all. Her fingers traced softly over his face, as if checking whether he was truly there.

She studied the signs of his despair, the blood on his hands. Her eyes grew serious.

“So… you saw it too,” she said quietly, almost in a whisper.

Lucius frowned slightly.

“Saw what?”

Her eyes shifted briefly to the shadows at the edge of the clearing, to the torn edges of her leafy dress. She took a deep breath, then let it out again before answering:

“I saw you. Many versions of you. And not one of them… was happy with me.”

Lucius’ heart almost stopped. He thought of the mirrors he’d just escaped.

“I saw what would happen to you if you stayed with me. You’d become a prisoner. I saw what I would take from you, your world, your life. I don’t want that, Lucius…” Her voice wavered.

“I want you to be happy. Even if I can’t be part of that happiness.”

But Lucius shook his head and took her hands. His voice came out hoarse, yet firm:

“Melissa, I saw the same thing. I saw you… happy. But only in worlds where I didn’t exist. And I… I wanted to let you go. But I couldn’t. I can’t just let you go.”

Melissa lifted her head. Her eyes shimmered with relief. A tiny, almost shy smile curled her lips. She looked away briefly, as though searching for words. Then murmured softly:

“Maybe the trial was to realize that all those visions were lies. Because none of them knows the truth we feel right here.”

Lucius nodded in agreement. “Then we’ve passed the test.”

“Or maybe we’ve both failed. But it doesn’t matter anymore.” She giggled.

And as they held each other, the world around them began to blur. Everything became translucent, shimmering. Lucius felt Melissa’s arms tighten around him.

“What’s happening now?” he whispered.

Suddenly, the ground beneath them began to vibrate. A distant rumbling rolled through the clearing, like the echo of drums. Melissa lifted her head, eyes wide, golden light flickering in her pupils.

“It’s Dionysus… He’s calling us back.”

Leaves dissolved into dust. And as the dust settled, they stood once more on the meadow of the Thiasos, exactly where Lucius had once spoken his wish.

The sun shone bright. The grass beneath their feet was green and lush.

And they stood side by side, exhausted, as Dionysus appeared on the horizon.

The god approached slowly.

Behind him trailed his noisy entourage of shouting Satyrs and dancing Maenads. Dionysus came closer, cleared his throat, and proclaimed in a voice like thunder rolling across the valley:

“The third trial… is PASSED!”