Saint did not respond, looking at Mordret with a frozen expression. She seemed stunned by his betrayal.
Before, there was at least one person who refused to share in the insanity. But now, even he was gone, having chosen to join the lunatics.
She was left all alone.
There was a subtle sense of giving up in her beautiful, glistening eyes.
Morgan shook her head and looked back at Mordret.
“Well, now that all the pretenses are gone, shall we have an honest conversation... dear brother?"
Mordret slowly retracted his hand and looked down.
He stayed silent for a while, his shoulders hanging low. Eventually, he said quietly: “Sure, of course. Whatever you want, Morgan."
She studied him with an impassive expression.
“Aren't you curious about anything? Don't you have questions for me?"
Mordret slowly shook his head.
Morgan sighed and leaned back a little. "Well, then, let me bring you up to speed. You've missed a lot of interesting events, after all... granted, regaling you with these tales might be a bit too cruel a punishment. But then again, you're not exactly innocent, are you?"
Hearing that, Mordret finally looked up. "What am I guilty of, exactly?"
His tone was tentative.
Morgan smiled darkly.
"I've learned a few interesting things from the detectives. On the day your car was pushed off the bridge, your driver did not just die from the injuries received in the crash, did he? He was killed with a sharp blade... your other half must have held that knife, but you covered for him. That is what you are guilty of."
Mordret's expression grew a little troubled. "He was... just trying to protect me."
Morgan chuckled.
“I am sure he was. Did you convince yourself that he had thrown you into the Great Mirror to protect you, as well? Come on. I know you are not stupid — you have to be devilishly smart, rather, being his mirror copy."
Mordret did not respond, prompting her to smile derisively.
"I bet there is no point in asking you who the Castellan is. Naturally, he would have kept that information from you — lest you gain full control of the Palace of Imagination and escape."
There was no answer.
Morgan scoffed.
“Let me tell you about how the other Mordret fared in the real world, then. Your life here must have been quite sweet, even if none of it was real. Surrounded by a loving family and living in a peaceful world... you must have hoped that he was having a great time outside, as well. Ah, but I'll have to disappoint you. He wasn't.”
Mordret flinched slightly.
She looked into the distance with a wistful expression.
“I assume you still remember that our real mother passed away. We only had our father left... but when your other self returned to Bastion, Father never really accepted him as his own. There was something seriously wrong with my dear brother, to be fair — he was eerie, off-putting, exceptionally cruel, and knew no remorse whatsoever. The Dreamspawn must have done a real number on you, huh?"
Mordret let out a small sigh.
“I see. That is... good, I guess."
Morgan studied him intently, then said evenly:
“Now, it is time for me to ask questions." She leaned forward a little and smiled.
"I shared what my Flaw is with you, so it's only fair to ask. You... you've been split in half, haven't you? That is why there are two of you — two halves of the same whole. A good twin and a bad twin. A man and his monstrous reflection. Is that your Flaw? Which one of you is the real Mordret, and which one of you is the reflection?"
Mordret looked at her with a sad smile.
He remained silent for a while, and then shook his head.
"No, you are wrong.”
He paused, then sighed and leaned back. "Both of us are real, and our Flaw did not split us in half. Instead, it shattered us... it shattered into seven pieces.”
Morgan blinked a couple of times, stunned. "What? There are... there are seven of you?"
Mordret's smile dimmed.
He lingered for a few moments, and then said in a mournful tone:
“There were seven of us. In the beginning... but now, there are only two."
Comments
The readers' comments on the novel: Shadow Slave