“The Liverstone family? Can’t say I’ve had the pleasure of chatting with them, yet. That daughter of theirs is so kind, though. Helped me carry a basket full of wheat to town—one that was bigger than her torso, mind you!” Adeline said.

Varin stifled a laugh. For a second, he thought that perhaps Cateline was playing a trick on him. If he just came out and asked her outright, though, he would run the risk of looking like a fool. Not that he would be spared from that if he kept playing ignorant—either way, he looked, felt, and was a fool.

“You said you are new to town, Adeline? Where did you come from?”

“I came from a Kingdom you have probably never heard of, Varin.” She said matter-of-factly. “Starisque, a small nation on the coast of Wisers ocean.”

Varin hummed, holding his hands behind his back in an attempt to conceal his discomfort. Not only was she a doppelganger that resembled the one and only lady related to the person behind a possible siege on Traburg, but she also claimed to hail from lands that neighbored his home. “I actually do know of Starisque, it is not too far from my own home.”

This was when her eyes lit up, seas of blue chasing after him with such a curious gaze. “Oh, truly? When did you move to Traburg, Varin?”

“A long while ago, and I hope to return home soon.”

Her face fell. “You wish to return back to those lands? Varin, which nation do you hail from?”

Varin shifted in his stance, looking around in hopes to find Senevia or her parents. Anything to get away from this vision of Cateline—or, rather, Cateline’s copycat. “Yulia, in the more rural town of Yedenskeep.”

She hummed, eyes falling to the ground. “Varin, how many years have you been in Traburg?”

“Why does it matter?”

Adeline moved to the working bench that was stationed to their right, rubbing her fingers against the blade atop the chopping block. She sighed shakily. “Two years, three?”

“Aye, Adeline. Three, going on four...”

She hummed again, this time knowingly. “Our homes have seen war, which I am sure you had suspected since you left around the time the worst of it ensued. Men, women and their children… dead. Villages pillaged, only the survivors sacrificed by means of kidnappings and imprisonment until they are moved somewhere else.”

Varin gulped, taking a step closer to her in anticipation. “Which villages?”

Her eyes closed, a sad frown falling upon her smooth features. “If I recall, my Lord, the kingdom of Yulia was in shambles upon my departure. Word was Starisque was next.”

Varin’s heart sank and his hands trembled but he still kept them tucked behind his back with an anxious grip. “How many?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“How many casualties?” Varin repeated, this time his voice louder and with a hint of dripping desperation. As if this question would answer anything…

“Well, Lord Varin… Over the course of three to four years, thousands. There was a moment of sparing mercy from our attackers, but they started again in the weeks before winter. It was an upheaval of violence… When I left, entire villages were left as ash and soot. No survivors to be seen.”

Varin sucked in a breath, his eyes stinging as he refused his tears. “None? Who… who could do such a thing?”

He asked, but he already knew. It was the same man that forced his hand and led him here to Traburg… to Lighthelm. She stared at him with an apologetic stare, shaking her head. “Do you really not know?”

“Who. Is. It?”

She, too, sucked in a breath and stood to face him head on. “Axulranian militias. The same type of group that is rumored to make way toward us in a day's time.”

He took a few steps backward, nodding his head before bowing as a formal sign of respect. “Well, Adeline. I thank you for your information, and in the event we meet again, you are more than allowed to call me by my birth name. No titles needed. If you do excuse me, though, I must return and attend to my prior duties.”

And, with that, he turned on his heel and took heavy strides toward the academy. Her soft voice called from behind him, causing him to stop for a moment. “All right, Varin. If I find that Liverstone family you were looking for, where can I find you? At the academy, Lighthelm?”

Turning over his shoulder, he pursed his lips and nodded. “I sure hope that is the case, yes. Thank you.”

“A doppelganger!” his voice echoed across the library walls. The headmistress, Jaspar, Cateline and Thaddius stood there with bewildered stares. “Leolina, how did a doppelganger that resembled Cateline wind up in the city of Daggernest? I thought you said you had that forsaken mirror upstairs handled!”

Thaddius raised a hand, smiling awkwardly. “I know I have just returned from my search for Aiora—which, I do hope you remember her. You know, the fiery Elven girl set on a revenge-fueled rampage that has run away? Anyways… What are you speaking of? Doppelgangers? At Lighthelm?”

“Two, at least,” Cateline said under her breath. “My own, assuming my twin in town comes from that mirror, and Varin’s.”

“Shit...” Thaddius mumbled, walking back and forth in a straight line. “This is no good. What did she say to you, Varin?”

“For one, she claimed she hails from my neighboring kingdom, Starisque. Secondly, she coincidentally assumed I attended Lighthelm. Leolina, how did this happen? You told us that all of those cursed twins were massacred after our allied nations won the War of Mimicry?”

Leolina shook her head. “I thought they had been. This is tricky, though—the mage performing this ritualistic spell requires something tangible from the host. Most frequently, this is by blood, but it can come from far crueler methods.”

Cateline gulped, lowering her stare to the ground. “I have a concern now that you bring that to light, Headmistress. You see, a few weeks back I found myself in the bathhouse trapped and under Seraphine’s control. She spoke like a heretic, and although she did not tangibly exist, her touch stung like venom—but she was a ghost. Had to be.”

Leolina’s eyes grew wide, her long legs taking careful steps toward Cateline until they were standing face to face. Golden eyes peered down at her, a gentle hand reaching up to touch her cheek. Although it was rare that she let others touch her, or get so close, she allowed it.

The headmistress’s eyes glossed over as soon as she came in contact with Cateline’s skin, lips parting when she groaned. “My dear…”

“What is it?” Varin asked as soon as Leolina dropped her hand.

“Seraphine is powerful, even from afar… that day, Cateline, she stole a part of you. It was unimaginably painful at the time, I’m sure, but leaves you unharmed in the long run. When you use this method, you allow the doppelganger to act independently. Varin, Adeline genuinely believes she hails from Starisque, and any additional information is planted by Seraphine as she plays puppeteer.”

Cateline scoffed. “So, essentially, there is at least one other version of me running about, living the life of a commoner?”

“A commoner for now, child,” Leolina whispered. “In the coming weeks, Seraphine could mold her to be whatever she wishes. It is far more dangerous than I could have expected, and I pray that she is on our side and not an enemy.”

Varin and Cateline looked at each other. The room fell silent, even Thaddius opting out of asking more questions.

This was when Jaspar spoke up. “Leolina and I have confirmed that the doppelgangers upstairs are still imprisoned in that mirror. I have moved it to a safer location, should the worst scenario occur in the coming days.”

“Right, you three must be on your way. Javunger is not a friendly city to travel to in the wake of night. Cateline, in your chambers I have instructions on how to get to the home tucked away in the outskirts of the village. When you get there you will find items that will aid you, as I said earlier. Please ensure you get comfortable with these in the event the banquet ends in bloodshed.”

With a quick nod, the three of them exited the room and parted ways to grab their belongings. When Cateline returned to the entry hall moments later, she had the instructions and a flask of water strung over her chest. Leolina had gifted her a pair of riding boots, something she had not worn since she was in Axulran.

Varin stood at the door, his face peering through the window with a hand cupping his eyes. She cleared her throat. “What are you doing?”

“Just ensuring our path is clear to the stables. Are you ready?”

“You’re awfully shaken up about that girl, aren’t you?”

Varin looked at her only through his peripheral vision, shaking his head. “There are more important things to worry about—such as Aiora’s whereabouts and the siege that looms over our heads.”

As Cateline opened her mouth to respond, Thaddius approached with a bag over his shoulder and scarf wrapped tightly around his neck. The satyr took one look at the two of them and made a tsking sound. “You two are going to fall ill in this wind. Where are your scarves?”

Varin laughed, motioning toward the academy gates after opening the door. “Then, sick we shall get. Come along, we have to hurry if we want to get there before sunset. Cateline, hand me the instructions Leolina gave.”

Handing it over, Cateline followed them outside before pausing. She looked up at the academy walls, smiling sadly before rushing to catch up. There was a certain serenity in the calm before this storm. Though, the night was far from over—if she was to survive a night with a grumpy mage and silly satyr, she was going to have to ensure there was wine. And, plenty of it.