Room23c
Jora reaches for the white mirror which rushes over them with almost predatory intent. The shocking cold of the mirror is more intense than any he has felt so far.
The room spins around him. The vision of the forest stretches and deforms turning bushes and trees into monstrous caricatures and finally into a blur of colors that blends into a single muddy swirl.
The transition is lasting longer than any they have thus far endured. The pain of the passage is far greater as well. Is this a good sign? Are they being made to suffer so that they may return home?
The cold and pain increase until he hears himself and his friends screaming.
A voice reaches them through the agony of pain and the darkness of this place where they hang suspended. It is rough and full of vehemence.
“So close, you fools. You’ve found your way home but you strayed from the path. Your souls are now mine.”
The wizard’s voice changes to phlegm filled laughter as they fall into eternal darkness, screaming.