Irana blinked. The tranquil silence was shattered by the thunderous rumble of the fortress doors opening. Irana's heart leaped into her throat as she jumped to her feet. The abrupt shift from her past to the present moment left her feeling disoriented and on edge, like a frayed rope threatening to snap under pressure. She sucked in a deep breath, as she gathered up the lantern and prepared herself.

The doors rumbled opened, revealed a figure shrouded in the fabric of twilight. Irana tensed, ready to fight, but as the light glinted off the metal mask she knew this was one of the Resonara monks -guardians of the Astralith catalyst.

"I am the masked Serene." The monk said, the voice somehow a blend of male and female and yet was neither.

The monk strode forward, their robe whispered against the floor. Irana's eyes shifted down to the shimmering surface of the robe. Stars shot out forming alien constellations before merging with others or collapsing in on themselves. They were ever-changing. Irana had read somewhere that what she was seeing was the collection of prophecies and hidden knowledge gathered by the order of the Resonara.

"Why have you come?"

Irana slowly raised her eyes and was met with the intimidating face of a lion carved into a mask. Each strong of hair shimmered in the light, somehow forged of metal. Large black eyes splattered with stars gazed down at here. Irana was overcome by a deep sense of awe and wonder.

"To create for myself a reflection."

The metal moved as though it were made of flesh. A soft smile curved the edges of the lips as the monk's gaze dropped to the lantern. Irana pulled it back, ready to flee if necessary. There were more ways to break a mirror, after all and she wouldn't be denied her desire. A rogue breeze blew between them, the world whispered the cadence of crystalline glass in response. The breeze grabbed at the prayer shawl that was draped over the monk's shoulders and lifted them like arms.

The shek was that? Irana thought. So far this world had been still. Not lifeless, there was an air of power and vitality here but just... it was like this place was frozen. Fixed. Inmoving and unmovable.

"Very well." The monk said, bowing low.

As the Masked Serene straightened they lifted one hand and struck the air before them as though clapping something. The fortress before her shifted, its dark surface flowing out around her like liquid. She hardly had enough time to step back before an entire chamber was created around her.

Irana slowly pivoted, her gaze sweeping the large oval-shaped chamber she now found herself in. Marbled floors and columns towered around her, and a dais sat in the center of the room, looming like a pedestal for some grand gargantuan sculpture. She stopped when she saw the masked Serene standing on a raised platform off to her left. They were now seated in a lotus position upon a large orange pillow.

"To gain a reflection one must look and examine themselves. This is a path that is treacherous to the fool but strength to those who would be wise."

"Test me," she said, determination coursing through her veins.

As her words hung in the air, the chamber around Irana began to morph. The walls shimmered and shifted like liquid metal, transforming before her very eyes. The austere grandeur of the fortress dissolved, replaced by the opulence of Anari's bedroom. Plush carpets caressed Irana's boots, while velvet drapes framed an ornate window looking out onto the picturesque field that surrounded the mansion. The scent of lavender filled the air, emanating from the candles that cast warm, flickering light across the room.

The scene made Irana's heart drop. Of all the things, why did it have to be this. She thought as she ground her teeth together.

The room was a manifestation of Anari. Within it was houses her passion for the finer things in life. From the gold-leafed vanity adorned with crystal bottles of exotic perfumes, the four-poster bed draped in silken sheets and embroidered with delicate flowers, the artwork on the walls showcasing exotic scenes from distance worlds. It was a stark contrast to the fortress's earlier austerity as well as what Irana's own room looked like after she'd renovated.

Even now, Irana rankled at the overly frilly nature of her sister's taste. It was like a sweet cake slathered in overly sweet icing. It made Irana cringe inside and want to find something black to cover herself in to ward off the overly bright and cheerful colors, lest they follow her home like a puppy.

The air above the dais shimmered as a ghostly image of Anari appeared at the vanity. Her tight curls bouncing as she leaned forward to apply a light coat of foundation. Irana shook her head. While Anari had never liked her freckles, Irana had loved them. It was a gift given by their mother. Something not even her death could steal from them.

Irana's own ghost manifested, leaned up against the wall, hands shoved deep into her leather jacket's pockets. Anari eyed her through the mirror. A moment later her eyebrow quirked up.

"You aren't going in that."

Irana's ghost gazed down at her the black tank top that was beneath her leather jacket. The ghost was wearing the same spiked boots Irana had on now. They were strong, had a good tread on them and were comfortable. Why wouldn't she wear them?

Anari scowled, "Can you at least try to fit in? This is Aldenvale. One does not simple walk around wearing thuggish attire."

"Who cares what they think?" Irana snapped, anger flaring within her.

"I do." Anari said softly, "And you should too. There's a time and place for such things."

"Yeah, like you'd know."

"What was that?"

"This is who I am. Take it or leave it."

Anari sighed, snapped the lipstick she'd just been apply shut and placed it down upon the vanity. She turned, holding herself with a dignified air as she gazed at Irana.

She looks so much like mom. Irana thought. In the moment her past self had realized the same thing and that had set her off. Who was Anari to tell her how to dress and act? She was Irana the Hexen. She wasn't about to lay her title down for a bunch of snooty uptights who had no clue what reality was beyond their gilded halls and manicured lawns.

"This isn't about you. This is about our future. How we present ourselves to our peers will have consequences. It will dictate future encounters."

Irana's ghost huffed, rolling her eyes. She pushed off the wall and ambled forward.

"I don't need or want their respect."

Anari's face dropped and now that Irana wasn't angry she could see how glassy they'd become. Part of Irana wanted to turn away, to ignore what was about to come. She glanced towards the monk who remained seated, his posture frozen in place. She knew this had to be part of the test but what was she supposed to do.

"Irana," Anari said, drawing both Irana and her ghost's attention to her, "let's compromise. You use your magic to cast a proper illusion on yourself. You can wear your cloths but you'll appear normal to everyone else. It will be our little secret."

Even now the word 'normal' struck Irana like a slap across the face. The words stung, piercing her to her core. Normal had always been what Anari wanted. She'd wanted to grow up, get married, start a family. All Irana ever wanted was to adventure. No, that not true and we both know it. Irana thought to herself, We wanted to go on adventures with her. With our sister.

Unlike her present self, Irana's past was furious. The frustration had been building ever since they'd arrived, in truth Irana had been looking for an excuse and this was the perfect moment for her rage to erupted. Her shoulders dropping and her eyes widened as she spoke through clenched teeth.

"I'm done!" Irana shouted, stomping towards the door, "If you can't accept me as I am, then I guess I'm not your sister!"

"Irana, wait!" Anari shouted.

Irana paused at the door, "Maybe while your out with your peers you can find someone to replace me."

With that Irana's ghost slammed the door, disappearing from view. Her chest tightened, and a lump had formed in her throat as she had watched herself storm off, leaving her sister behind with tears streaming down her face.

The room seemed to hold its breath as Anari's eyes welled up with tears. The tension in the room was palpable and it made Irana sick to her stomach.

"I..." She bit her lip, trying to keep the truth from pouring out, "I just wanted to leave. To go back home. I hate this place."

Anari's ghost lifted her eyes, a soft sniffle filling the air between them.

"Then why did you come?"

"Because I wanted to still be with you. We're sisters. You're all I got left."

"Then why did you leave?"

Anari's question echoed through Irana, filling her. Irana closed her eyes. She was acutely aware of the lantern's weight in her hand. For a long moment she stood there. Silent. Unmoving just as the monk was. She didn't think. Didn't come up with excuses. Instead she was quiet, allowing the truth to well up from within her.

"Because I was scared. I don't like change. Change took our home from us. Change stole our parents away. I tried to convince you to go home but you were just so damned stubborn. Things were changing. You were changing and all I ever wanted was for things to just stay the same. Is that to much to ask?"

Irana's eyes burned but she refused to cry. This wasn't the real Anari and this thing didn't deserve her tears. Instead she bite her inner lip. A second later the copper taste of blood trickled into her mouth. She focused on the pain, using it to harden her heart.

In that moment she realized that it was her fear of change, not the clothing, that had had her tightly wound. She still felt betrayed by her sister's demands but also justified in her own actions. The only thing she regretted was the fact that she had taken their ship and headed off world. She'd spend the next several weeks drinking, gambling and actively ignoring her sisters calls. It had been the absence of her the calls that had alerted her that something was wrong.

Just in the short time since she had arrived within Astralith, she could tell a noticeable difference in its fading glow. The sight caused a cold dread to settle over Irana like an oppressive fog. The orb within was now a dying ember, at its conception it had been a raging fire that danced with furious passion yet now its brilliance was slipping away like sand through an hourglass.

In that moment she knew she was almost out of time.

If you hadn't left, we wouldn't be in this situation. Irana scolded herself with a bitter anger. Drawing in a shaky breath, Irana tried to center herself, desperately clinging to the dwindling light of her lantern. She found her resolve within its fading glow and so turned to the monk.

"True wisdom is not found in black and white but in the prismatic colors between," the masked Serene intoned, his voice echoing like a distant chant in the hallowed space.

"Did I pass?" Irana admitted, holding up the lantern, its flickering light casting tremulous shadows on her face.

The masked Serene stood with an alien grace. Once more he struck the air with one hand. The floor before Irana bubbled up as though liquid were pouring up out of some unseen crack. Strands of liquid flowed up into the air, twisting around each other to form the frame. The dark liquid then poured into the center from all sides creating a doorway.

"You are not alone." The masked Serene said.

Irana smiled, accepting the comforting words but then she saw the monk's outstretched hand. Cocking her head to the side, Irana realized he was pointing down to the floor beneath her feet.

Dropping her gaze she recoiled in horror. The floor of the fortress had retreated, revealing the reflective surface of Astralith. Her reflection was blackened, stained by a thick putrid shadowy substance that seemed to writhe and puddle on the reflection's surface. It spread out, leaving an oily residue as it did so. Terror and revulsion coursed through her as it seemed its malignant presence grew.

"Go now!"

Without another word, Irana turned to face the enigmatic door, her heart pounding with a mixture of anticipation and dread. Grabbing the door she flung it open.