Ezra was the last to leave the dining room, then the living area. The butler waited for him and escorted him back to his room. They ascended the stairs to the first floor and walked along the corridor – Ezra made sure not to run this time – until they reached his room, where he locked himself in.

Alone in his room, Ezra's thoughts were racing. He lay on his bed, hands clasped behind his head, eyes fixed on the ceiling. His stomach growled softly – the meal had been interrupted before he could satisfy his hunger. He replayed the dinner table conversation in his mind, analyzing every word, every exchanged glance. All the revelations had somewhat unsettled him.

Suddenly, a soft rustling interrupted his reflections. An envelope, adorned with a wax seal, seemed to defy the laws of physics as it slowly slid through the window opening. Surprised, Ezra sat up to observe this phenomenon. The envelope floated gracefully through the air, guided by an invisible force, before delicately landing on the carpet.

Intrigued, Ezra got up and picked up the envelope. His name was elegantly inscribed on the front. Who could be writing to him at such a late hour? He walked over to the window, peering into the darkness in search of the sender, but saw nothing, not a soul in sight. He returned to the dim light of his room, his heart pounding with anticipation, and broke the seal to discover the neat and somewhat familiar calligraphy.

"Dear Ezra,

I knew the day would come when you would cross the threshold of this world again. I have long strived to honor the promise made to your father, to keep you away from these places full of mysteries but also dangers. Yet, seeing you reminds me so much of your father, and it brings back an older, deeper promise I made on the day you were born.

I pledged to be your godfather, to watch over you and support you through tough times. This promise prevails over all others. Although I cannot be by your side at this moment, I send you this mirror. It has belonged to my family for generations and possesses a unique power. Utter these words in front of a mirror: 'Through time and space, let my reflection reveal itself.' Then, the mirror will appear, it will answer your questions, guiding you in this world but be careful, you are only allowed two questions per day.

As for your father's ring, it remains out of reach for now, its power too great and too dangerous for you at this stage of your life. But do not worry, the day will come when it will be yours, when you are ready.

Take care of yourself, Ezra. I will always be there, watching over your path.

Affectionately,

Charles"

Reading these words plunged Ezra into a whirlwind of emotions. The discovery of a godfather's existence, a direct link to his late father, filled him with a sense of long-lost connection. He felt a mix of gratitude and admiration towards Charles, who had assumed this paternal role in the shadows, guiding and protecting without ever revealing himself. With tears in his eyes, he realized that, despite losing his father, he had never truly been alone.

After placing the letter on the table, Ezra slowly turned towards the small mirror, hanging on the wall of his room. His heart beating with anticipation, he closed his eyes for a moment, gathering his courage. Then, in a firm voice, he uttered the phrase: 'Through time and space, let my reflection reveal itself.'

The mirror began to tremble slightly, its edges starting to shimmer. Ezra's image in the mirror faded, giving way to an older mirror in the reflection. The surface of the room's mirror rippled like a wave on water, and gently, the ancient mirror emerged from the surface, sliding into the air. It moved towards Ezra, floating softly in front of him, until he held it in his trembling hands. Engraved symbols on the frame of the mirror twinkled, seeming to come to life under his fingers. It was an ancient mirror, its silver frame engraved with intricate patterns. He held it in his hands, observing his own reflection surrounded by mysterious ornaments. The mirror seemed ancient by its edges worn, but its surface was astonishingly clear.

Ezra slowly rotated the mirror in his hands, fascinated by its shine and the sensation of latent power it exuded. He lifted the mirror to eye level, his gaze plunging into the reflective surface.

He sat cross-legged on his bed, looking for a clue, a button, something that might activate it. "What if I just have to state my request?" he wondered aloud. He hesitated, feeling a bit ridiculous at the idea of speaking to an object, but after all, he had already done it with Maya's book. "Alright," he finally said. "Mirror, what is the Grand Master doing right now?" He stared intently into the mirror, waiting for a response. But nothing happened; the mirror simply reflected his face, marked with confusion and expectancy.

Ezra frowned, a thought forming in his mind. "Okay, let's try something else," he murmured. With a hint of skepticism, he asked, "Mirror, where are my favorite shoes?" He leaned towards the mirror, his eyes scanning its surface. To his great surprise, the image of his own room appeared in the mirror, showing a corner under his bed where his shoes lay. "Incredible!" he exclaimed, a smile of realization lighting up his face. "It concerns me... it responds to my personal questions."

Emboldened by this discovery, a mix of excitement and apprehension rose within him. Ezra took a deep breath, gathering his courage. It was time to ask the question that had been burning in his mind for years. His voice was firmer, imbued with a new gravity as he pronounced:

"Mirror, reveal to me the hidden truth behind my father's disappearance."

Ezra held the mirror with trembling hands, his heart pounding in eager anticipation of the answer.

The image of his father, James Artoria, materialized in the mirror. A man of imposing stature, a familiar figure from Ezra's photographs. In a frenzied race against the wind, James shimmered with a strange aura, his family ring emitting light pulses that seemed to push back the darkness that surrounded him.

Suddenly, a menacing shadow engulfed the scene. James stood firm, raising a hand from which filaments of light emanated, weaving a web of pure energy. Facing him, an imposing adversary, with indistinct features, rained down blades of blood, creating a visual distortion around him. Touching his face, his hand transformed into a blue flame, pulsating with dark energy. The flame intensified, distorting the space around, before dissipating suddenly.

In its place, James reappeared, arm extended. From his fingers, chains of pure energy escaped, moving with supernatural speed and precision. They wrapped around the man in black, causing an explosion of light and shadows battling for domination.

The image darkened again. When it cleared, James faced six anonymous silhouettes, in a silence laden with unspoken meanings. The scene blurred once more, revealing James lying in a confined and dark place. Elena, Ezra's mother, appeared, overwhelmed with grief, dressed in black, while the dark faces of Mrs. Seleth and Elmer White floated in the background.

The last image showed a coffin draped in velvet, marked with the inscription "Honor" in golden letters, with Elena tearing away the veil in a gesture of desperate rage.

The mirror then returned to being a mere reflection. Ezra, realizing he had been holding his breath, set down the object and collapsed onto his bed, his mind in turmoil.

The mirror had given him more questions than answers. His father's death was shrouded in mysteries, far from the official version of a plane accident...

Determined to uncover the truth, Ezra tried to question the mirror again, but in vain. In accordance with the letter, the surface remained silent: two answers per day, no more. With a resigned sigh, he stored the object in his suitcase, his mind tormented by unanswered questions, his gaze lingering momentarily in the depths of the room which now seemed much larger, much emptier. He turned off the lights and got into his cold bed, the evening had been long but he was content, Ezra, who had never traveled, was experiencing a sort of jet lag for the first time. He collapsed from fatigue into his bed.