I let my feet sink into the sand, and took a deep breath of the familiar sea air as I sat, listening to the gentle waves. I exhaled, letting the light wind tickle the hair around my face. Even in my bed clothes, I was warm, comfortable even, as I traced lines into the ground beside me.
It had been quite some time since I last visited these serene shores, but after a long night of trying to find comfort on a stone pillow, I was more than overjoyed to sit on my familiar dreamy beach. I was alone, stretching out my arms, now free of their voided black against the bright yet sunless sky.
I didn’t want to think about tomorrow morning. I didn’t want to think about what this ill-prepared group of aged misfits would face tomorrow against an unknown hoard of Selphene knights. Seeing them all bundled up in blankets, low on magic, and looking particularly small in their stone boxes, it was difficult to remain confident.
Milea had sent crane to all the nearby blood mage camps, but all were far too south to arrive, especially with the swampland barrier between. Some pledged that they would still try, but Milea remained doubtful that any would make it in time to join us.
I sighed, tugging at the binding chain at my neck, and tried to clear my head. With a sigh, I then stood, brushing the sand off my night clothes. Maybe a walk along the shore would clear my head.
It was strange, having visited this odd place so many times before, yet never having a chance to really explore. Yet, after a few excited steps forward, I stopped dead in my tracks. Before me, sparkling silver in the light, was something metal in the sand. I took another hesitant step forward before my breath caught in my lungs.
There, in the white sand, was a delicate and ornate silver hand mirror, sparkling and jarringly out of place. I took a step backwards, then another, then another, mind racing.
Was it Herculea again?
If it was, did she mean to try and entrap me in the white room once more?
No, that couldn’t be it.
If she did, I would only be closer to Lumo.
And - how would she be able to find me? There was no magic in the underground. How would she be able to enter my dream?
I took a deep breath, hand on my quickening heart as I took a careful step forward. I then crouched, slowly making my way forward, until I could barely peer a look into the mirror’s reflected image.
Instead of sky and clouds, there was something else shown in the mirror. And, despite my quickening heartbeat, I couldn’t help but inch forward to see what the odd object was trying to show me.
It wasn’t the sky, nor the familiar white room shown on the mirror glass, but something else. As I leaned over the silver frame on the ground, I saw another room, with high white arches and marble statues lining an ivy rich path filled with benches. A crowd was gathered, with silver, gold, velvet, and pearl outfits more splendid than anything I had ever seen. Many of the exquisite gathering wore the familiar veil of Herculea, while others wore crowns, pearls, and other adornments above beautiful faces, each facing me as they whispered amongst each other.
The marble rows of benches were flanked by cranes and other odd animals I had never seen before, each beautiful and strange, as they looked idly onward, heavy gold chains at their feet keeping them in place. One such creature had the body of a beautiful woman, but her arms were filled with feathers and she had sharp scaled talons for legs. She perched on a small adorned perch, her eyes vacant and unreactive to everything around her. There was a lion-headed snake, coiled and asleep with a heavy collar dangling to the floor beside her.
Never before had I seen such odd creatures, and in my curiosity, I found myself inching closer until I was completely over the looking glass. Automatically, I picked up the slender silver handle, and began to spin it around to see what this odd assortment of characters were looking at.
As I turned, my stomach dropped, and I felt a hit of pain more powerful than any void mage touch.
Upon an adorned marble stage, surrounded by silver spear holding knights, was Herculea and Lumo. They stood facing each other, with hands held together softly, as the crowd watched in awe.
Both Herculea and Lumo were without masks and staring into each other’s eyes. Herculea was wearing a white dress, embroidered with delicate green vines and flowers, and corseted with a silver metal chest piece.
Lumo stood in front of her, silver armor matching hers, with a white velvet cape over his shoulders. I began to move the mirror around, left and right, stumbling through the sand until I could get a better look at his face.
There, under soft dark curls, were his same eyes, nose, lips that I remembered so long ago. Yet when he looked down at Herculea, I saw the same look that he once gave me, and I dropped to the sand.
With a smile on his face, I watched the couple have their hands facened together with thin red string. It twirled around and around and I watched, heart sinking even lower, as he mouthed a silent joke to his new partner. They then both lowered to their knees, hands still bound together, as a veiled and robed man placed delicate silver crowns on both of their heads. Lumo was beaming at her as her misty veined eyes fluttered back at him in admiration.
The prince had become king.
It was all over.
It was all over.
It was all over.
The mirror shards in my palm didn’t seem to hurt as much in the strange dream shores, but I found that screaming wasn’t nearly as satisfying compared to when I was awake. However, I was grateful that I was alone when I expressed my anger and grief.
Barely a season had passed and he already surrendered.
And why wouldn’t he? She promised him a life of comfort. A life without fear.
Perhaps I could have looked for him better? Made some sort of effort?
But what was I to do without the aid of magic?
If he was screaming, protesting, fighting the ceremony in any way, I would have understood. But no, he smiled.
Herculea’s words floated around in my head.
Perhaps that was why Lumo became so enamored with you - a sweet young Blood Mage that he would be able to control, instead of the opposite
I took a moment to calm my growing heartbeat before I began to scream again.
And again.
And…
“Are you okay?”
I opened my eyes. It was completely dark other than a tiny reflection of little black eyes.
If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.
“What?” I whispered, rubbing my eyes.
As my eyes adjusted, I saw Aixel in front of me, leaning over the top of the stone box wall with Doris on his shoulder.
“You were yelling in your sleep,” he shot back in a whisper.
“What?” I whispered back.
Aixel made an exaggerated sigh then gestured at me to move my feet. I looked away, embarrassed as I realized his words, and pulled my knees towards my chest. Aixel then made a small jump over the short stone wall and sat in front of me, his feet almost touching mine.
“So what is it?” he asked, voice hushed, “Nightmares or something?”
I shook my head and looked down. I tried to speak, but felt the familiar pang of tears gathering at my throat, and I knew if I said anything, they were sure to fall. There was a calamity of emotions all at once. Frustration, anger, grief, each gripping hold of me as I tried to calm my wound nerves.
I half expected Aixel to grow annoyed and leave, but he instead stayed there, face emotionless and waiting.
I swallowed hard and took another deep breath.
“Herculea and Lumo are now ma… They are together. He’s now a king. I saw… I saw the ceremony,” I said slowly, using all my effort to keep my voice steady.
“You saw?” he asked.
“I… Herculea can use mirrors… in dreams… to show people… trap people,” I took another deep breath.
“Oh… So you’re scared that she found you?” he whispered back, brows furrowed. “That is strange that she was able to find you here…”
“No… It’s not that. I just. I didn’t…” I cleared my throat, “I didn’t expect him to give up so soon. I really thought… That I meant something…” I shook my head. It felt so stupid to say those words, “Or at least this… I don’t know. I just believed him when he talked about fighting against her… and for the Barrens.”
“Oh… huh,” Aixel frowned.
“What?”
“I mean… No, never mind,” he shook his head.
“Just tell me,” I sighed, voice beginning to warble and half frustrated already that I didn’t explain myself correctly.
“I mean… It doesn’t change anything, really, does it?”
“What do you mean?”
He sighed, head turning upwards as he seemed to look for words.
“Mira, what do you fight for?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean - Do you fight for Lumo? If you do, then you’re dumber than I thought,” he shook his head.
I looked down, embarrassed once more.
“Like it or not, the Barrens are now your home. You cross that border, and you’re a fugitive again, good as dead. These people,” he gestured around us, “These are now your people. This is all they know - this is all they’ve known. Every day a constant need for survival as they fight to keep the Barrens’ and its borders safe. This is all we have. If you don’t see why that’s important, then I’m not sure what else to tell you.”
I was quiet for a moment, and a fresh bout of tears began to gather once more.
“He… saved me…” I whispered, ashamed.
Aixel sighed.
“Right…” he whispered with a frown, turning away.
Then, to my surprise, he started to laugh.
“What now?” I choked.
“It’s just… So absurd,” he shook his head, “We’re probably all going to die tomorrow and you’re crying about some guy who’s, in part, now in charge of part of the army that’s going to slaughter us.”
“I… I know,” I said through shaking voice, still holding back the moisture at my eyes.
It was quiet for a moment and Aixel stopped smiling, expression now stern as he stared at me through the dark.
“You don’t have to do that,” he said, voice hushed.
“Do what?”
“You can cry.”
I blinked, unsure of what to say.
“I know I probably give you a hard time for crying but it’s fine. Especially if we’re going to die tomorrow,” he gave a small smile, “If anything, it’s encouraged.”
And so I did.
I let the tears fall, in big gasping breaths, and released the pressure on my throat all the while Aixel sat watching, lips tight together but frozen where he sat.
It took several moments, but I finally was able to settle myself, and I padded my face dry with my sleeve, rolling it up halfway up my arm. I was too embarrassed to look back up at Aixel, who I could feel staring into me.
Aixel then slowly bent forward, grabbing my exposed arm and causing me to jump in surprise.
“Shh, calm down,” he said in a hushed whisper, “Let me look at your arms.”
I held my arms out for inspection and he bent forward, holding them close to his face, trying to see through the dark. He then took a slender finger and traced one of the long smoky black veins on my forearm. I reflexively pulled my arm away before putting it back in his hand. He shot me a confused look.
“Sorry… That tickles.”
He sighed.
“Sorry about all this,” he said, voice low and not looking up from my arms. “Does it hurt?”
“It just… Stings a little. It’s gotten better,” I said, feeling my face grow warm.
He was quiet for a moment as he continued to stare at my arms.
“Can I try something?” he said, looking up at me.
“I… Sure.”
I then watched as he bent my arms upwards and placed his palms on mine, before lacing his fingers around where now both our hands were clasped together in front of us. I looked up at him, confused, and saw he was biting his lip in concentration.
“Try and corrupt me. Try and corrupt my magic,” he finally said.
“No… How would that help?” I shook my head.
“Just try. I won’t fight it,” he said, brows still furrowed in concentration.
I took a deep breath and swallowed, remembering the painful void magic process.
I concentrated, focusing on the little magic left in my palms. I then gave a little push forward, feeling the resistance of what I assumed to be Aixel’s magic. A cold shiver cascaded down my arm and I looked up to see Aixel’s face. His eyes were closed but his expression was serious.
“Keep going,” he said, eyes remaining closed.
I pushed again, once again meeting resistance, but this time I didn’t stop. Using my magic, I twisted and kneaded it through his, gritting my teeth through the pain, but found it was far less awful than when I was practicing alone on my own hand. When pushing through to someone else’s magic, there was still a muted pain, but there was also a strange uncomfortable hollowness and sudden empty feeling as the magic left your body. I continued to prod, stab, and stretch at the edge of his palm, making my way towards his wrist. It was only then when I noticed the discomfort on his face. He was gritting his teeth, eyes closed tight, and a vein was popping on the side of his long neck. I immediately stopped, pulling both of my hands out of his grip.
“Why didn’t you stop me?” I seethed.
He opened his eyes then looked down at his hands, clenching and unclenching his fingers. He then looked up at me, blinking.
“Huh?”
“Why didn’t you stop me? I was obviously hurting you.”
“Oh,” he shook his head then reached for my arm, “It’s fine.”
He once again pulled my arms to his face for inspection.
“It worked,” he said with a little smile.
I looked down to see that, in fact, a majority of the black marks on my arm had faded and the only remains of black were left on my weakened left hand. But, as he turned my arms over, I noticed his fingers.
Black.
I reached for his hand, only to be slapped away.
“It’s fine,” he said, “It’s nothing. It was my idea. And it worked.”
“I’m so-”
“If you dare apologize,” he interrupted, “I’m going to corrupt your entire right arm. No ring there to save you.”
He then dropped my arms and suddenly stood. He then cracked his neck with a stretch and let out a long breath.
“Better get some sleep before it’s too late,” he grumbled, placing Doris in his pocket then stepping back with a jump over the side of the stone wall.
I looked up, amused at his abruptness.
“Goodnight, Aixel… and thanks.”
“Night,” he responded curtly before disappearing into the dark.