Irana stood in the open door, gazing into the dimly lit room beyond. Turning to the spirit Irana had summoned, she said, "Stay close, I might need you."

The spirit disappeared without a word. Turning her attention back to the room, she discovered the source of the grunting. A ashen skinned man was hefting weights, his spindle desiccated arms trembling furiously as he forced his muscles to contract. The soft glow of flickering candlelight illuminated the gaunt and withered features.

He strained, his ragged breaths coming out in short rapid bursts as the weight finally reached his shoulders. Dropping it to the ground, he lumbered across the room and gazed into a mirror. Irana's eyes narrowed as the mirror looked just like the one in the attic.

Stepping into the room, she watched as the man flexed his muscles. His efforts did little to raise the sagging skin that hung from his biceps. The man then straightened, his face screwed up in concentration. As Irana approached she saw the man's reflection and gasped. In the mirror was a healthy and fit man whose abs could have cut rock.

The image contrasted heavily against the skeletal and emaciated man before her. His bellow stuck out, swollen from starvation. He appeared more like a skeleton with skin stretched taut over sharp bones than he did a person.

Irana's heart clenched with a mix of horror as she realized what she'd stumbled in upon. This was a spirit's trap. The mirror must have acted as a gateway, a tear within the veil, allowing on access to the spirit world. This was a reflection of reality, create at the moment the tear was manifested.

Yet it was the man that represented the true danger. This wasn't just a tear that people had stumbled through. He acted as though he were enchanted. His body deteriorating as he continued to try and fulfill some eternal and insatiable desire. The air around her became heavy with anticipation. Some spirit had taken up residence here, create for itself a domain. It had then used the mirror as a means of luring in victims so that it could feed upon them.

Gritting her teeth, she ignored the raised hairs on the back of her neck. There was a good chance her sister was here, lost within this mirror's labyrinth. If that were the case she needed to act quickly and find her sister. The more concerning notion was how long her sister had been here. Time flowed differently within the spirit realm. She needed to determine a baseline.

The man's panting drew her back to the present moment. She noted the power of the trap, though she hadn't felt its influence upon her she couldn't be sure. Spirits were masters in manipulation. Their own magics were far more subtle and binding than anything a mortal mage could wield.

Narrowing her eyes, she stepped forward, determined to free the man and get the answers that she sought. This wasn't necessarily a compassionate decision, if it were up to her she'd leave the man and continue on but any information he held could be a tactical advantage. Releasing him would also deprive the spirit of a source of power, thus weakening it.

Drawing a deep breath, she approached the man, her footsteps muffled by the musty carpet beneath her boots. Irana wrinkled her nose at the scent of decay that hung heavily in the air.

"Sir!"

Her voice, though thunderous in the silence, did little to catch the man's attention. Biting her lip, she tried again. Nothing. The man was bending down, his fingers wrapping around the weight. He heaved, struggling to pull the weight up. Irana planted her boot on it.

This time the man reacted. At first he shirked backwards, trying to pull the weight with him but it was no use. Lifting his head, his eyes widened as he saw Irana.

"Who are you?"

"Irana the Hexen. Who are you?"

"Albisan. Now if you'd kindly leave, I was in the middle of working out."

"I can see that."

Albisan stiffened and then rose to his feet. He jabbed the air with a finger.

"Are you implying something against my honor?"

Irana shook her head. Her sarcastic tongue had just created a new problem. The man's face contorted in anger, his eyes narrowing and thinning into crescent moons. His high cheekbones seemed to cut into dark circles beneath his eyes. There was a flicker of life still in him yet his eyes revealed how truly hollow he'd become.

You have to be tactful. What would Anari do? Irana asked herself as she gazed at the man.

""What's the last thing you remember before you started working out?"

The man's brow furrowed into one long bushy eyebrow. He licked his lips as he thought. Then his eyes drifted over to the mirror. His whole body relaxed as his gaze intensified. It was as if everything within him was focused on the mirror.

"You have to look away." Irana said, reaching out and grabbing the man's shoulder.

He resisted but he wasn't a match for her. Facing her once more, he snarled. His gnarled fingers rose as he tried to scratch her face. She threw her hands out, knocking his to the side. The motion sent him sprawling backwards.

"Can you not see what you've become?"

Irana said, pointing to the mirror. It's reflection caught her eye. In it she saw herself standing upon the edge of a cliff. The sound of crashing waves filled the air around her. She could sense the kora, the arcane heartbeat of the universe. Tears pricked the edges of her eyes. That had been the one thing she'd wanted to experience since she'd learned about it from an old mage in a dusty old market. The heartbeat of the universe. The Kora.

Irana jerked herself back. Snarling. with one swift motion she brought her hand up, burned the tattoo on her knuckles and smashed her fist into the mirror. It's shattering erupted in a powerful deafening roar. A gale of arcane forces whipped about her, clawing at her as they rushed past and out of the room.

"Well shek." She said, as dread filled her.

She'd just announced her presence to the spirit who owned this domain.

The man roared in anguish, clawing his way across the ground towards the shattered pieces. He snatched hold of them with a wild frantic energy. Lifting them up, he stared into them with a mad desperation. He was so focused on them he didn't seem to notice the blood that now dripped from the deep gashes on his hands. Tears streamed down his face as his entire body shook with grief. His sorrow intensified, growing until he dropped his head to the ground and let out an agonizing howl that seemed to fill up the room.

"What have I become."

Irana didn't say anything but instead reached to her hip. The blade whispered upon the leather.

"Do you know how long you've been here?"

The man didn't answer as she knelt down.

"What's the last thing you remember?"

Still no answer. Irana placed a gentle hand upon the man's thinning wispy hair. She brought her other hand around.

"I'm so sorry."

She used the words to cover the soft scraping of her blade against the man's throat. She screwed her eyes shut as the man desperately fought for breath. The choking sound, a wet gurgling plea for one last breath, ceased a moment later.

Irana sat there for what felt like an eternity, her eyes locked on the warm darkness that pooled beneath the man like a death shroud. It crept along the ground, seeming to reaching for her. She stood and stepped back. She'd done the right thing. She knew that as the man's body disintegrated before her very eyes, the magics keeping him alive having been shattered and broken. His spirit was released and entering into the embrace of Lady Death. But still, deep within the recesses of her soul, she couldn't ignore the idea that her actions had just stained her soul forever.

She inhaled a deep, quivering breath, and, with her heart pounding in her chest, she left the room. Every step down the hall was once step farther into the spirit world, one step away from the reality she knew and one step deeper into the madness she found herself in. This place which had once been so familiar-every wall, every corner, every doorway- now felt like she was navigating unknown territory. Yet she pressed on. The thought of her sister being her propelling each step forward.

As she made her way up the down the stairs, a chill passed through her as she heard muffled humming. Reaching the door, she cautiously pushed open the door and stepped inside; at once, the shrill hum of a woman's voice filled the air. As she scanned the room, a figure came into view—seated at an ornate vanity was a woman with dark hair similar to her sister’s own. The hope that had been building within her chest dissipated. Up close, she could make out more details about the woman: sunken eyes framed by caked-on makeup and skin stretched tight over bones.

This time Irana activated the tattoo upon her shoulders, burning one of them, she cast the disruption spell. The beam of golden energy shot out and struck the mirror. A second later the woman screamed as she gazed at herself in the mirror.

Irana marched over and grasped the woman's shoulders firmly. She swung her around, catching a glimpse of the woman's deathly complexion; her skin, where makeup didn't conceal, appeared to be pulled taut and transparent as glass, and her sunken eyes so deep that her eyes were hidden beneath her brow.

"What have you done to me!"

Irana ignored the woman's angry rantings, instead focusing on pressed an enchantment against her mind, willing it to give her some clarity. The woman blinked.

"Listen to me, The image in the mirror isn't who you are."

"How can it not be me? That's my reflection." The woman tried to pull away, her hands rising to grasp at the myriad of makeups cluttered upon the vanity, "I just need to fix my makeup, then I'll be beautiful again."

Irana ground her teeth, trying to figure out what to say. All that came to mind were those terrible shows Anari had loved and her parents had forced her to watch.

"Your beauty lies elsewhere," Irana said, hating herself for saying such derivative dribble, "It's not in the layers of paint you apply to your face -though it does help," she muttered, "but in..."

But in what? She let out a long 'ahh' sound to fill the silent churning within her mind. She shook her head around as the woman stared intently at her.

"In accepting... your true... self."

The woman's eyebrows quirked. Then she nodded, slow and small at first before it became a full acceptance. Tears flowed down her cheeks as she dropped the makeup brush in her hand.

"You think I'm beautiful?" The woman said.

Irana grimaced, "Everyone's beautiful in their own ways?"

The woman sniffled as she leaned forward and hugged Irana who recoiled at the sudden contact. The mirror behind the woman cracked and a moment later she too disintegrated.

"You've got to be kidding me. That actually worked." Irana said with a groaned.

Irana treaded cautiously, her eyes scanning the room for any sign of life. She passed through the second story's living room. The velvet couches and matching burgundy armchairs were positioned towards a cozy fireplace. It had been Anari's designated winter reading spot. Irana eyed the heavy cobwebs that clung to the corners of the room. They were an indication that the tear within the veil had been done during one of the mansions many periods of abandonments.

What disturbed Irana more was the fact that the spiders were moving. In reality, her reality, those spiders had died long ago and any of their remaining descendants had been evicted by Anari's meticulous hand. They were a representation of a moment, a reflection of a universe caught in the blink of an eye. Those spider, the ones moving, were only imitations. They only moved because they were possessed.

Irana could feel their multifaceted eyes upon her. They were watching her every movement. She couldn't know whether they'd simply taken up residence or were actively serving the domain's ruling spirit. In the end, it didn't matter and she didn't have time to find out.

Reaching the stairwell, Irana padded down the steps, hand gliding upon the banner. She stopped short of the bottom as movement caught her eye. Squinting, she leaned forward. Was that a child's leg? A chill ran down her spine and she felt a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. Her hands clenched into tight fists, her knuckles turning white as she processed the terrible scene before her.

"Who are you?" Irana asked, coming down to a knee, though she was ready to cast several spells should this child turn out to be the ruling spirit.

The child emerged from the shadows, the light seeming to pour over her golden skin. Dark hair framed her narrow face. Irana noted the way the light struck her hair revealing a deep midnight azure. Her eyes-by the blood, those eyes- seemed to gleam, revealing a rich verdant with flecks of red.

"I'm looking for my mother."

Irana's brow furrowed.

"How long have you been here?"

"Since..." her voice trailed off and she cocked her head to the side, "I don't remember."

Irana's gut churned nervously. How was it possible a child had survived within the spirit world for any length of time? Compared to the others, she appeared healthy, hearty even. Perhaps she'd made friends with some of the spirits who lived here. Why wouldn't they just help her escape? That thought made Irana nauseated as she thought about the other spirits preying upon the child.

There eyes met and Irana swore there was something potent there. Perhaps the child had a spark burning within her. When did a true mage's powers manifest?

"What's the last major thing you remember?"

The girls nose crinkled as she thought. She placed one hand upon her hip while the other reached up and tapped her lips. Irana cocked at eyebrow at such an overly exaggerated gesture. She got the feeling that the child was trying to give the impression of thinking instead of doing it.

"I think my mother was worried about the Kreshar invading Intalor. Something about using one of the star gates."

Irana's eyes widened, that was close to forty years ago. Irana's parents had been born around that time. Her throat became dry as she thought about this child being trapped within the spirit world for that long. Part of her questioned if people aged within the spirit world but there weren't any stories she could recall. Most were either found soon after disappearing or not at all.

"Can you tell me about this place."

"The one we seek is named Narcissus Nox." The child said with a vehement tone stained with anger. It was enough to make the hairs on Irana's neck rise, "He is the ruler of the Glamor Gaze."

"The Glamor Gaze."

The child gestured to the world around them, "The world behind the mirror that eats people."

Irana's heart raced. She had to settle the autumn whirlwind of thoughts that rampaged within her, each one colored by a different emotion and concern.

"Have you seen a woman, look like me but all pretty?"

"I have. She came down these steps nearly a week ago." The girl lifted her hand and pointed, "She ventured somewhere on the other side of the house. I tried to speak with her but the mirror's curse had already claimed her."

A surge of panic coursed through Irana's veins, confirming her worst fears – Anari was indeed trapped within the mirror. She couldn't help but wonder if she herself would share the same fate, entombed in the spirit world like so many others before her.

"You need to come with me." Irana said holding out her hand.

"Why, are we going to kill Narcissus Nox?"

"What?"

"We need to find my sister and then escape."

"I'm not leaving until I get my vengeance."

Irana's blood ran cold at the girl's chilling words, worst still she saw a red gash of a smile creep up beneath her skin even though her mouth didn't move. It was in that moment that she realized she was talking to a revenant. Most likely born of the girl's fury at the moment of their death. This could be my fate, if I fail to get Anari out of here.

"Will you join me? Together we can slay Nox."

The girl held out her hand. Irana could feel the pact magic swirling around it. She grinned and grasped the girls small hand with her own. She winced at the burning sensation within her palm, though she didn't pull away. The revenant released her hand and Irana turned to see a new tattoo upon her palm. It was made of jagged ugly triangles that jutted out to form six points.

"Figured that's what you'd like." With that the revenant turned and headed towards the shadows, "Call me when you are ready for me to strike."

The revenant's voice lingered, becoming hollow as the body of the girl disappeared. For a moment, Irana sat there. What have we gotten ourselves into? She stared down at the tattoo upon her palm. She wondered how much she could use the spirit. She'd never had a tattoo for such a purpose before. She stood.

"Only one way to find out."

Irana made her way through the downstairs, through the opulent dining room with its crystalline chandelier. She shook her head at the vast open living room. They could have fit the entirety of their childhood home within it and probably still had room. Then she saw the double doors that lead to the master bedroom.

Anari's room.

"Anari!" She cried out as she sprinted forward.

Her boots slapped against the tiled floors as she passed by the metal framed windows. She was so close. All she had to do was get inside, shatter the illusion and... and what if she's already a husk? The thought slammed into her, causing her to clench her teeth as she huffed.

The space before Anari's door twisted as if the air were burning. Irana stopped dead in her tracks. An imposing figure dressed in a neat tailcoat stood before her. It was of an impeccable style and it seemed to hug his lithe frame. He stepped forward, tapping his gold tipped cane upon the ground as he did so. The fabric of his suit shimmered like obsidian in the faint glow of the evening light that poured in through the windows.

"Ah, you've made it!" He said as he tossed his cane up into the air before snatching it and slamming the tip into the floor before him.

He leaned forward, his moonlight pale skin contrasting against the dark patches that encircled his golden eyes that seemed to hold a multitude of secrets. A chilling smile adorned his face, his ivory teeth gleaming with malicious intent.

"Narcissus Nox."

"So you've heard of me. I'm not surprised." He said as he lifted up and inspected his well manicured nails. "So you've come to join your sister."

Irana could feel the influence of his magic pressing against her mind. It was in the way his voice purred. It was smooth and cold as polished marble. Or a nice glass of har whisky after a hard day's work. Irana shook the thought away, gathering her focus and building a mental barrier between her and the spirit.

"Release my sister."

Narcissus Nox had a deep, throaty chuckle that drowned the silence of the corridor. He twirled his cane in one hand. He cast her a wide smile as he strutted past her. Irana stepped back, watching with apprehension as he paused, his back facing her.

"Such confidence. But I'm afraid you're not in a position to make demands."

Irana clenched her fists, her knuckles turning white as she fought to tamp down the rage simmering within her. She couldn't allow such emotions to cloud her judgment; she needed to remain focused if she hoped to outwit the spirit.

"Then let us bargain," she suggested, her mind racing to devise a plan. "If I can best you in a game of your choosing, I will let your sister go."

Irana eyed the Narcissus Nox. This had all the hallmarks of a trap. The prospect of a challenge clearly appealing to his twisted nature.

"What if you win?"

"I get your soul."

"What a shock."

Nox grinned again, his ivory teeth seeming to elongate ever so slightly. Irana rubbed her fingers against the palm of her hand. The tattoo the revenant had made had left a raised line where the ink had formed. I have to wait until the right moment.

"Fine. I'll bite." She said offering her hand.

Nox wasted no time in grasping her hand and pumping it thrice. Just like with the revenant, there was a palpable sensation of magic that seemed to bind them together. Irana took a deep breath as she tightened her fist.

The pact was sealed.

"Very well. What is it you wish to do?"

"Punch you in your face!" Irana said, jumping and throwing her fist out.

As her fist collided with Nox's face the air shimmered. An instant later there were dozens of Nox's all over the place. Irana landed and cursed. Why hadn't that worked?

"Very well. All you have to do is strike me. But which one is me?"

Every Nox laughed and she struggled to figure out which one's laugh was different. If there even was a difference. A sudden dread crept down her spine as she realized he'd played her. She thought she was getting the drop on him but he'd been influencing her the entire time.

"Tick tock. You only have six minutes on the clock."

"Wait we never agree."

Then each Nox took off in a different direction.

"Oh what the shek..."

Without another word, she took off towards the nearest one.