Kieran

Astrid wrings her hands behind her back and sticks her neck out as far in front of the mirror frame as she can, peering curiously at our reflection until it warps into a new scene entirely.

This always delights her. And, as always, she squints hard at it, trying to drink in as much detail and colour as possible. I’ve made it a habit to purposely avoid the puppy look she puts on whenever I enter the mirror. Lady Selaena had very directly warned me of the one consequence of allowing the others to use the mirror while the curse remains unbroken. I used to ignore it and allow them to accompany me into the mirror world, but that was when we all had hope of leaving this castle.

“Enjoy your journey!” she calls out after me when I step forward.

I cast an irritated glance at her. She twists her leather boots, the flowing beige skirt of her dress swaying just above her ankles. She looks very comfortable in an outfit which is very much out of her own time.

Obviously, she’s been dressing for the unlikely occasion wherein I may change my mind and simply allow her to hop on the bandwagon of fun. She may not have argued with her words, but she certainly attempts to display not-so-subtle reminders each time she insists on sending me off.

I’m often wary enough to refrain from telling her that this whole routine isn’t really that fun.

She plasters on a broad smile before I can take another step. I want to just close my eyes and walk on, to get this hour done and over with. It isn’t as if the same rejection – or even the occasional hour spent listlessly walking about – won’t happen again.

It’s not like I’m even going anywhere with this.

“Fine.” My huff comes out angrier than intended.

Astrid’s smile falters. “Sorry?”

“Stop looking at me like that,” I say. “If you want to come along so badly, then come along.”

A hint of suspicion wavers in her expression. She pauses.

“Oh. With...you?”

With only you, she surely means to say. Going out there would mean that, unlike our chats each night, it will only be the two of us. Bayorn and Imogen will be far out of reach if she were to ever need them.

The sudden shift in her mindset is almost laughable. A second ago, she was all too eager to display her apparent thirst for adventure. Now, she eyes the mirror hesitantly, as if something will jump right out and eat her up.

But she isn’t as wary of what’s out there as she is of what is in here.

Admittedly, it hurts just a little.

“You may choose to stay, of course,” I sniff.

She remains unmoving for a split second. But then I take a step, and she recovers. Her curiosity wins over and paints a resolution onto her set jaw. She sucks in a deep breath and tucks a lock of hair behind her ear.

“Fine. We may go,” she says, as if the whole thing were her idea in the first place. I roll my eyes.

“Fine. But you can never go again after today, so make this hour count.”

I look to the mirror and think of a different place than I’d first intended, and immediately the image before us changes. Without waiting for her to brace herself, I walk right into the surface.

Astrid

I fall directly on my face as soon as I lunge my body into the mirror.

Above me, Kieran’s lips twitch in suppressed amusement. He does not help me up, so I am left to collect myself. I glare furiously at my shoes and pretend as if the heat in my cheeks are nonexistent.

Embarrassment fades into astonishment when I finally look up.

Vast greenery stretches over tremendous mountains all around us, beyond the brick walls that travel in a long, snaking line up and down the terrain. The sun is just peeking over a mountain’s peak, casting a golden hue over the whole world.

I trace my fingers along the small terrain of stone in the walls as I dare myself to venture forward, too occupied to notice earlier that Kieran has fallen into stride with me.

“Where are we?” the awe in my voice is unmistakable.

“They call it the Great Wall in a country called China,” he tells me, chin raised skywards as wonder fills his own eyes. In this light, he looks younger.

“It is very long.”

“Yes,” he chuckles. “It is, isn’t it? It took a lot of sacrifice to build something like this.”

Farther down the steps, a family freezes like statues in front of a man holding a tiny box. They remain like that for a few seconds before the man lowers the box, and then they move again.

How strange. The skies and the trees look as if they belong in our world, but everything else does not.

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“Well?” Kieran calls out. I snap out of my reverie and realize he has walked a distance towards one of the stone arches. His finger taps against a device strapped around his wrist. “We don’t have all day!”

I jog to keep up with him. He walks straight ahead, muttering something. At first I think he is speaking to me.

But then he disappears right into the archway.

I follow suit.

The scenery changes. Now, it is nighttime, and the air is crisp and chilly. Delighted cries of children fill my ears as the crowd bustles about. People stop to survey stalls and taste the smoking meats and all sorts of delicacies offered by the men and women who speak in a foreign tongue.

“Stay close,” Kieran’s voice sounds beside my ear. “And keep your head low. It’s obvious we look too different from everybody else.”

I do not need to be told that. The people here are of a specific ethnicity, with milky skin quite similar to the complexion of several foreign guests who have passed through our town during their journeys. We are clearly the foreigners here. Some stare at us – specifically, my hair – but none say anything.

Kieran offers me his hand, and reluctantly I latch onto his sleeve. We weave through the crowd until we find ourselves standing on a bridge.

“Look,” he says, bending over to rest his chin on his folded arms against the wooden rail. I follow his gaze to the little groups gathered in circles in the distance.

One by one, arms stretch out to release the glowing lights into the night sky.

I gawk as the gentle lights – pale pinks, blues, greens, and oranges – turn into stars, floating and floating until they fill both the sky and my own heart. A cool breeze sweeps strands of hair away from my eyes as I turn my vision to the heavens and inhale.

So this is beauty.

“Ready?” Kieran’s voice interrupts too soon. I want to stay here forever, but he taps the strange little machine on his wrist. “One hour, remember?”

He leads me towards one of the houses with curving rooftops. I disappear into the wooden door after him, and again I am elsewhere.

We have returned to the highlands once more, but the air here is cooler. And instead of being confined to one pathway, we stand amidst a maze of ruins.

My fingertips trail along the stone structures as I shut my eyes against the grass-scented breeze. We are closer to the sky than I have ever been. Kieran and I part to venture amidst the ruins on our own.

I find him again as he gazes over the mountain, down at a city. We stand in silence to imagine what it must be like to live there.

“You are not going to murder me and dispose of my cadaver here, are you?” I sound. It is only partly a joke; being so high up in a rather isolated place leaves much room for doubt.

“Here?” He looks as if he is seriously considering it. “Hmm. That would ruin one of my favourite places in this world. If I were to do it, I think dumping your body in a polluted river would be a better option.”

“You have a morbid sense of humor, do you know?”

He shrugs, unsmiling.

At some point, I grow too uncomfortable. So I request a change of scenery. Kieran’s sleeve leads me under a broken archway.

I release his sleeve just before he breaks into a slow jog, through some sort of cobbled road and then out onto a wider, jet-black path.

“Oh, wow.”

Ahead, jaded grass stretches lazily under the sunlight. A somewhat triangular tower stands proud and looming over the whole world, its needle-tip challenging the Sun to defeat it. Around me, people take out their strange boxes – like the one from before – and aim them at the building.

Kieran leans in from beside me, but he somehow manages to keep his distance altogether. “Welcome to the city of romance,” he whispers.

I can do nothing but stare.

When we leave, I push through the doorway first.

“My wings! Has anybody seen a pair of wings?”

“Five, six, seven, eight – and…”

“Where is Anastasia? She’s due for the finale in two minutes! Anastasia!”

“Astrid?”

I turn at the sound of my name, catching a glimpse of Kieran’s chocolate hair before it disappears. I call out, but the sound of the dancers counting as they practice their routine to my right drown me out.

A woman catches me by the shoulders.

“Who are you?” she pushes her strangely-pointed spectacles up the bridge of her wrinkled nose. “Why aren’t you in costume?”

My mouth goes dry. “I…”

“Somebody – oh, Anastasia, there you are!” she catches another girl, whose face is heavily painted. “Hurry, hurry-hurry! And you,” she snaps her fingers distractedly in my face. “Get back into costume. Curtain’s up in a minute.”

“Sorry?”

The practicing dancers from before sweep past me. One of them catches my hand, and suddenly I am pulled along with them. To my horror, I realize that our skirts are all of the same shade of colour.

Lights glare in my face. The orchestra begins a loud, merry tune, percussions clanging along to the dancers’ steps.

I stand frozen. Fabrics flow from the dancers’ hands. A blend of orange, red, cerulean, lilac and gold billows in my face, the colours shifting into each other like flashing memories.

When the colours clear, the bright lights force me to lift a hand over my head. Only when the lights are blocked out do I notice the multitude watching me expectantly.

The dancers bow. I follow suit.

Everyone erupts into applause.

I am rushed back to the place from before. As the dancers crush each other in a series of jumps and embraces, someone’s fingers intertwine with mine.

Kieran’s eyes find mine. My flipping stomach eases.

“Sorry,” he grimaces.

We maneuver through doors and busy faces once more until, again, I am met with a crowd.

But this time it is not the crowd I notice. It is the buildings. They are just as boastful as the one from before, but they stand packed together and they wear large, iridescent pictures.

The pictures are moving. A humongous woman in one of them grins at me, displaying a perfect set of chalk-white teeth. She waves.

I wave back.

Next to me, Kieran chuckles, and I realize I have done something stupid. I drop my hand.

Overhead, the largest, strangest-looking bird soars amidst the clouds, roaring like a charging animal.

The boxes from before are here, too. This time nearly everyone is holding one: they hold them to their ears, they stare at them and smile, they push their thumbs against them.

Inventions. All these are inventions, the product of genius thinking and progressive minds. Be it in another world or my own – these little boxes and bright lights and fast-moving vehicles are proof of what is possible.

By the time we return to the castle, my head is spinning. The world I have returned to has become almost as unreal as the dream I have just stepped into.

Over dinner, I recount my adventures excitedly with our three friends. None of them are surprised at my stories; they must have been through the mirror, too.

Kieran sternly reminds me to cherish these memories, because I will never return to that place again. I hide my dismay by narrating more from my adventures.

The next day, when I bid him my routine goodbye, he invites me to come with him again.