Noble was too stunned by the voice of the Spell to fully comprehend what it was saying. Had she heard right? An Aspect Legacy? For what?
There was no time to consider what had just happened.
The looking glass was gone, and the Advisor was flooding the mirror world with rain. Droplets began to leak through the widened crack, creating a small stream of water.
"You!"
Noble looked up, too shocked for words. The custodian reached forward, the glass bending around his outstretched hand. He took hold of Noble's arm, securing it in a vicelike grip.
Noble felt the world around her begin to fade out of existence. Light began to brighten, taking over her vision. She could feel that she was being dragged to a new place.
To a new Realm!
Her arm pierced the glass against her will. The Advisor continued to pull her through. If Syrce would not come willingly, he would make the offer irresistible.
But Noble would rather cut off her arm than become a captive. Her Zenith unsheathed of its own accord, filled with vile venom. It was not her arm that she would cut off. But his!
The sword struck the glass, unable to penetrate the barrier that Noble was being pulled through.
The glass hummed as it vibrated across its surface.
Water spilled down Noble's face as her head found its way into the mirror, but she did not close her eyes against the hurricane.
"Let me go!" She twisted her arm, making her armor heavy as she aimed at his jaw with her fist.
Noble was angry, frustrated, and tired of this Nightmare and the Advisor's antics. If Omer wanted her to be part of the perfect world he claimed he would create for Syrce, then he would have to kill her and use a copy.
And Noble had no intention of dying today.
"I said, let me GO!" A burst of energy accompanied Noble's emotion as she aimed it at the Advisor.
Omer of the Nine was accustomed to battle, but his reflection was not. The combination of the physical and emotional hits threw him off balance.
Leaning away, Noble felt someone grab her arm and yank her backward. The water ceased whipping against her face as she was pulled into the Hall of Imagination. She landed on top of Syrce in a heap with the rest of her cohort.
Noble had felt the strength of the tug but had not realized it was their combined efforts.
"Bel! Are you alright?!" Syrce helped her friend back to her normal float.
Noble nodded, "I'm fine…now get us out of here!"
Suddenly, the room shook, causing fissures in the ground. The crack in the glass began to gush water, forcing the cohort to scramble to their feet.
The custodian clicked his tongue. It echoed over and over, erasing any thought but the short, sharp sound.
"My mistress did not only imagine happy tales. She lived through mysteries, dramas, tragedies, and horror. You might be able to leave, Steward, but you will never know if you brought your people with you or not."
Before the water could finish receding, a new flood entered the room.
A flood of people.
They came in from the hall, through the mirror, and from the crevices in the ground. Some even floated down from some unseen place above.
"No!" Syrce was forced to abandon her escape as hundreds of Aethers, Helies, Roans, and Nobles overwhelmed the Hall of Imagination.
How was she supposed to choose from so many copies?!
"Come with me, and I'll remove the reflections," Omer promised.
From every direction, dozens upon dozens of Lady Bels begged her to comply. Only one spoke in discord.
"Don't listen to him! He told us he would not let us leave." Noble pushed her way past all her clones, who thankfully were all clothed but unfortunately were also armed with Zeniths just like her. She clashed with a couple of them as she flew by.
The Hall of Imagination had more power to replicate, it seemed.
But it could not copy Noble's resolve to leave the mirror mayhem behind. It also could not mirror the connection that Noble had with the Saint.
Child of Promise grabbed Syrce's hand, sending a message through their shared Memory. 'I may be empty-headed, but I have an idea of how to get us out of here.'
Syrce squeezed her friend's hand. 'One idea is all it takes.'
'You'll have to still act terrified.' Noble kept her face neutral.
'Already on it.' The Saint's mortified expression never faltered. She screamed as she released Noble's hand.
"Please!" Syrce begged. "I need more time. My sister, Lyra! I have to let her know where I have gone."
Noble ignored the dramatic exchange as she tried to sift through the hundreds and thousands of copies to find the genuine article. The emotional signatures were all the same, though some leaned into certain emotions to the exclusion of the rest. The Others were strange creatures. Their replications were exact but lacked nuance. Just like the polite Flint was exactly Flint and not him at all.
Noble would not be fooled again. She pulled on her Kingdom Keeper Attribute, but the strange nature of the Hall of Imagination split and fractured the connections in a hundred different ways before reaching their destination.
So, although Noble knew the general area of her friends, she could not rely solely on her attribute to save them.
Drawing on all her knowledge of her cohort members, Child of Promise sifted through the emotional signatures for the perfect match:
Aether's stalwart politeness that would fight when necessary.
Helie's paralyzing fear that she managed with patience and perseverance.
And Roan. He had brought this cohort together, and he was willing to fight for it even at the cost of his own life. His loyalty warmed Noble's heart.
One by one, she weeded out the false to find what was true. Helie and Aether had managed to stay relatively close in the sea of people. Only Roan was causing her some difficulty.
Syrce continued to plead with the custodian, buying her time.
"Too many are depending on me to complete this duty at present. You will have to excuse..."
Noble had narrowed the field down to two possible candidates. She peered across the crowd to get a visual on them. They met her eyes. One smiled and waved at her while the other tucked his blue scarf into his armor.
'Got you!'
By the Great Mirror, Syrce dropped to her face. "Please!" she wailed. "I cannot gooooo!"
"Your duty is here." Omer of the Nine frowned. "My mistress…"
Syrce lifted her head and stood to brush off her tunic. "Well, this has been nice, but I'll have to politely decline. My people are ready, and I'm their way out. You understand."
The Saint floated into the air.
The scarf-tucking cohort leader, Helie, and Aether soared to meet the Saint under Noble's levitation. The floating Master was the last to arrive.
As the five drew together, the Others began to swarm. Dozens of copies of Noble were on them in a moment.
Aether made a cage around them. Roan infused it with lightning, Helie used the particles of dirt in the air to reinforce it, and Noble gave the circular cage weight.
Finally, Syrce manifested her orbs of energy to plug any holes the copies might breach.
"This is them!" Noble told Syrce. "Take us out!"
The Saint looked at the other three. 'Are you sure?'
'There is one certain way to find out.'
Noble put her hand in the center of the group.
"Who will we dedicate this Nightmare to?"
The three Masters did not hesitate. Their voices overlapped as their hands joined hers.
"To Steel's brother Flint."
"To the surliest Master in two worlds, Flint."
"To the Scion of Valor, Flint."
"To Flint, my favorite curmudgeon," Noble nodded, "It's them!"
"Hold on to your armor!" Syrce lay her hand on top of the rest.
Noble felt the familiar sickening feeling as things around her sifted.
The world around them vanished.