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The Mirror of Masquerades
Hosted by Valecia Valentine
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The interior of the tent shimmered with candlelight and the faint scent of myrrh. Silken curtains of midnight blue framed a single tall mirror that gleamed like liquid glass. Candles floated in the air around it, their flames steady despite the restless October wind. Valecia sat beside the mirror, her crimson gown pooling like spilled wine, a single silver ring glinting at her throat. She did not look up when visitors entered. Her gaze stayed fixed upon the mirror as though she were listening to a voice only she could hear.
When the light shifted and a new reflection appeared, she smiled faintly. “Welcome, traveler. This mirror shows the face beneath the mask. Do you wish to look?”
Her fingers traced the air, and the glass rippled like water. “All who gaze upon it see not what they are, but what they hide. Be warned. It does not lie.”
She turned her head slightly, eyes glinting in the soft glow. “Tell me, who do you come as tonight, and what does the mirror reveal to you?”
Beside the mirror rested a small crystal dish filled with confections that shimmered faintly in the candlelight. Some were wrapped in violet foil embossed with silver sigils, others glowed softly through translucent paper like captured fireflies. There were sugared violets that melted into honey on the tongue, dark truffles dusted with edible silver that carried the taste of pomegranate and midnight wine, and tiny glassy candies that released a cool breath of mint and lavender. To the ordinary eye they were only sweets, yet those who believed claimed each carried a fleeting charm such as a pleasant memory, a laugh unburdened, or a whisper of courage for the path ahead.
You may post a description of what your reflection shows, beautiful, eerie, or absurd. Valecia will answer briefly for quick Trick or Treat stops, or linger for a deeper reading if you wish to stay longer.
✶ ✶ ✶
An odd silhouette steps out from the shadows with a single eye yet to blink, seven feet in height yet staring down with a sort of hidden glee only his eye could show, hunched over so his size could fit within the boundaries of the blue tent. Clef arrives to peer into what the mirror might hold, no mouth to present yet words seemingly emitting from what could be best described as his face.
"Let me guess, this is some sort of fake set up meant to scare kids just to make some adults cackle to themselves for a solid few seconds, isn't it?" He says with major doubt in what the mirror can do, stepping forwards to get a closer look. His attention span lasts the same amount of time as a moth in a lamp store, but eventually he quits admiring the scenery of the tent and gains a focus on the mirror, standing back only to gawk at himself. His reflection simply looks dull, evade of the joy and pride he has in himself, standing as if it had done something horribly wrong and had yet to confess on what tragedies behold.
Clef takes a moment to himself trying to test the reflection, waving his spike-ending arms around and tilting his head confused, only still met with a reflection cast in it's own variant of depression. "This isn't a fun house mirror, is it..." He says to himself, finally getting a grasp on what he's faced with.
"Let me guess, this is some sort of fake set up meant to scare kids just to make some adults cackle to themselves for a solid few seconds, isn't it?" He says with major doubt in what the mirror can do, stepping forwards to get a closer look. His attention span lasts the same amount of time as a moth in a lamp store, but eventually he quits admiring the scenery of the tent and gains a focus on the mirror, standing back only to gawk at himself. His reflection simply looks dull, evade of the joy and pride he has in himself, standing as if it had done something horribly wrong and had yet to confess on what tragedies behold.
Clef takes a moment to himself trying to test the reflection, waving his spike-ending arms around and tilting his head confused, only still met with a reflection cast in it's own variant of depression. "This isn't a fun house mirror, is it..." He says to himself, finally getting a grasp on what he's faced with.
Valecia did not flinch at the size or strangeness of the visitor who stepped through her curtain. If anything, the faintest glimmer of curiosity crossed her eyes as she studied the towering silhouette. The mirror brightened of its own accord, its surface rippling like a pond disturbed by the weight of an unseen breeze.
“You doubt,” she murmured, voice smooth as glass. “And yet you look. That is how most truths find us, even when we expect tricks and laughter.”
The reflection behind the glass stirred. The dullness that Clef saw began to move, light gathering faintly at its chest until the outline of a small, steady glow appeared where the heart should be. It pulsed once, dim but real. Valecia’s gaze softened.
“No mirror shows what we are forever,” she said. “It reveals what we are this moment. You hide your fire behind doubt, as if to protect it from a world that does not understand its shape. But still, it burns.”
Her lips curved in the faintest smile. “If you wish it, take a sweet. They are for travelers who are not quite done being surprised.”
The mirror steadied once more, the pulse of light within his reflection still glowing faintly.
“You doubt,” she murmured, voice smooth as glass. “And yet you look. That is how most truths find us, even when we expect tricks and laughter.”
The reflection behind the glass stirred. The dullness that Clef saw began to move, light gathering faintly at its chest until the outline of a small, steady glow appeared where the heart should be. It pulsed once, dim but real. Valecia’s gaze softened.
“No mirror shows what we are forever,” she said. “It reveals what we are this moment. You hide your fire behind doubt, as if to protect it from a world that does not understand its shape. But still, it burns.”
Her lips curved in the faintest smile. “If you wish it, take a sweet. They are for travelers who are not quite done being surprised.”
The mirror steadied once more, the pulse of light within his reflection still glowing faintly.
Clef, trembling at the hands (or what could be considered,) grabs a twix and takes a step back with an expression growing more fearful by the moment purely of denial towards his own thoughts.
"I'm taking this but not because you're offering-" He states, staring dead at the single pulse made in the mirror where his heart should be. Even without a steady structure of bones let alone organs, he feels bizarre through the moment as if he had lost a heart beat he once had, a warmth he once held, or something related.
Mild discomfort overtakes Clef after watching the lights and weird presence of his wellbeing presented to him through the mirror in such an unsaturated state and he steps to the front of the tent, looking back for a moment as if to say something, but only placing a singular coin heads up on the ground and silently walks off into the night, leaving behind perhaps a sign of luck to the next visitor.
"I'm taking this but not because you're offering-" He states, staring dead at the single pulse made in the mirror where his heart should be. Even without a steady structure of bones let alone organs, he feels bizarre through the moment as if he had lost a heart beat he once had, a warmth he once held, or something related.
Mild discomfort overtakes Clef after watching the lights and weird presence of his wellbeing presented to him through the mirror in such an unsaturated state and he steps to the front of the tent, looking back for a moment as if to say something, but only placing a singular coin heads up on the ground and silently walks off into the night, leaving behind perhaps a sign of luck to the next visitor.
Evelyn arrived at the tent with curiosity. Tonight she could dress like herself. She wore the clothes that her ancestors had worn in times long past. A pointed, brimmed hat sat atop her head, and her hair was a mix of purple and turquoise tonight, streaked with both vibrant hues.
Her boots were laced up, and were more practical than stylish. Bright green eyes looked upon the sorceress with admiration. Though Evelyn called herself a witch and was an attractive young woman, the elegance and class of this woman was on another level altogether. And that mirror. What mysterious abilities might this fellow magic user wield? She did look down and see a coin upon the ground, kneeling to pick it up. "Someone dropped this, they may come back for it."
Her attention moved to the woman and the mirror again with intense interest, spurred by the questions. She hardly noticed the candy.
"I will dare to look," she replied, "it's a pleasant night for it after all." The glass rippling was intriguing, she had seen magical mirrors before but she had never seen one like this. Evelyn stepped forward, "I arrive as myself tonight, able to show who I truly am to the world without attracting any suspicion or malice." She held the coin in her hand, absently flipping it over in her fingers and fidgeting. The witch felt a mix of excitement and anxiety over her true self being revealed in the mirror, as well as her love of magic. She loved discovering forms of magic that were new to her.
Within the mirror, her image was vibrant and shifting with the power of her magic, purple rays of light were emitted. And then, over that brilliant display a veneer was placed that muted and calmed her aura, making her more presentable for the rest of the world. It concealed her secrets and kept her safe, though sometimes some of the energy behind it slipped through anyway.
She wore a long dress that was often the custom of her kind.
Her boots were laced up, and were more practical than stylish. Bright green eyes looked upon the sorceress with admiration. Though Evelyn called herself a witch and was an attractive young woman, the elegance and class of this woman was on another level altogether. And that mirror. What mysterious abilities might this fellow magic user wield? She did look down and see a coin upon the ground, kneeling to pick it up. "Someone dropped this, they may come back for it."
Her attention moved to the woman and the mirror again with intense interest, spurred by the questions. She hardly noticed the candy.
"I will dare to look," she replied, "it's a pleasant night for it after all." The glass rippling was intriguing, she had seen magical mirrors before but she had never seen one like this. Evelyn stepped forward, "I arrive as myself tonight, able to show who I truly am to the world without attracting any suspicion or malice." She held the coin in her hand, absently flipping it over in her fingers and fidgeting. The witch felt a mix of excitement and anxiety over her true self being revealed in the mirror, as well as her love of magic. She loved discovering forms of magic that were new to her.
Within the mirror, her image was vibrant and shifting with the power of her magic, purple rays of light were emitted. And then, over that brilliant display a veneer was placed that muted and calmed her aura, making her more presentable for the rest of the world. It concealed her secrets and kept her safe, though sometimes some of the energy behind it slipped through anyway.
Valecia’s attention shifted when the young witch stepped into her tent. Her eyes followed the flash of turquoise and violet, a quiet appreciation glimmering there that needed no words. She rose gracefully, her crimson skirts whispering against the floor as she regarded Evelyn with something between curiosity and kinship.
“Ah,” she murmured, a faint smile curving her lips. “One who dares to wear her truth openly beneath the moon. How rare, and how beautiful.”
Her gaze drifted toward the mirror as the ripples deepened, violet light spilling like spilled ink across the glass. The reflection shimmered, showing both the vibrant power of Evelyn’s inner self and the soft veil that contained it. Valecia’s tone gentled.
“So much power beneath that calm surface,” she said softly. “It is not disguise you wear, child of the old ways, but mercy. You temper your storm so the world does not break beneath its beauty. Yet never forget, control and suppression are not the same. One day, you may find the veil no longer necessary.”
Her gaze flicked to the coin in Evelyn’s hand, and a knowing glint touched her smile. “Keep it,” Valecia said. “A coin found upon the ground on All Hallows’ Eve is never lost. It chooses.”
With a subtle motion, she lifted the crystal dish toward her guest, the sweets within catching the candlelight and glowing faintly between amethyst and rose.
“Take one. For truth bravely spoken and masks set aside.”
The mirror behind her stilled, though the faint hum of magic lingered in the air like the last note of a forgotten song.
“Ah,” she murmured, a faint smile curving her lips. “One who dares to wear her truth openly beneath the moon. How rare, and how beautiful.”
Her gaze drifted toward the mirror as the ripples deepened, violet light spilling like spilled ink across the glass. The reflection shimmered, showing both the vibrant power of Evelyn’s inner self and the soft veil that contained it. Valecia’s tone gentled.
“So much power beneath that calm surface,” she said softly. “It is not disguise you wear, child of the old ways, but mercy. You temper your storm so the world does not break beneath its beauty. Yet never forget, control and suppression are not the same. One day, you may find the veil no longer necessary.”
Her gaze flicked to the coin in Evelyn’s hand, and a knowing glint touched her smile. “Keep it,” Valecia said. “A coin found upon the ground on All Hallows’ Eve is never lost. It chooses.”
With a subtle motion, she lifted the crystal dish toward her guest, the sweets within catching the candlelight and glowing faintly between amethyst and rose.
“Take one. For truth bravely spoken and masks set aside.”
The mirror behind her stilled, though the faint hum of magic lingered in the air like the last note of a forgotten song.
The doe wanders along, she has decided to leave all preparations of anything going on to take a bowl of fresh air.
She's neither disguised nor aware that it's today, Halloween. She unconsciously mixed up the days. So there's this innocent doe, not wondering about anyone passing along in disguise, smiling and confident.
She comes across this tent, unknown to her. She's intrigued as people go in and out, some smiling before but not afterwards, some smiling only when coming out again. Something weird is happening inside, she gets curious and no more no less finds herself within a nick of time, to her own astonishment, at the entrance of this tent. She opens slowly the silken curtains to step inside.
She freezes, not awaiting such a scene, magic fills the tent, but strangely no dark magic, this one is maybe not kind but truthful. The doe has a very awkward feeling inside her, but not to fear. So she gathers all her courage and enters with the voice speaking to her. A person, a woman in a long red dress speaks to her through the reflection of a mirror.
Very hesitantly Lizbeth dares have a look at that mirror, will it reflect her past, or will she see her Mom, Angel.
Nothing of all, Lizbeth is amazed, all she can see is a fawn, a feral fawn, with numerous little white spots in her fur.
Lizbeth puts both hands on her muzzle, her eyes shimmering moist in the fluttering candlelight.
She's neither disguised nor aware that it's today, Halloween. She unconsciously mixed up the days. So there's this innocent doe, not wondering about anyone passing along in disguise, smiling and confident.
She comes across this tent, unknown to her. She's intrigued as people go in and out, some smiling before but not afterwards, some smiling only when coming out again. Something weird is happening inside, she gets curious and no more no less finds herself within a nick of time, to her own astonishment, at the entrance of this tent. She opens slowly the silken curtains to step inside.
She freezes, not awaiting such a scene, magic fills the tent, but strangely no dark magic, this one is maybe not kind but truthful. The doe has a very awkward feeling inside her, but not to fear. So she gathers all her courage and enters with the voice speaking to her. A person, a woman in a long red dress speaks to her through the reflection of a mirror.
Very hesitantly Lizbeth dares have a look at that mirror, will it reflect her past, or will she see her Mom, Angel.
Nothing of all, Lizbeth is amazed, all she can see is a fawn, a feral fawn, with numerous little white spots in her fur.
Lizbeth puts both hands on her muzzle, her eyes shimmering moist in the fluttering candlelight.
@ Lizbeth
Valecia’s attention drifted from her crystal ball as the silken curtain stirred. The faintest breath of autumn air entered with the newcomer, carrying the scent of leaves and innocence. She felt it before she saw her…something pure, fragile, and untamed. When the girl stepped through the threshold, Valecia’s gaze softened, though her poise remained untouched.
The mirror beside her pulsed faintly, as if alive to the energy in the tent. Valecia turned toward it and then toward the trembling figure standing near the entrance. Her voice, when it came, was low and melodic, each word a calm ripple in the charged air.
“Welcome, little wanderer.” She rose from her seat in a single, fluid motion, the red of her gown catching the light like flame. “Do not be afraid. The mirror shows truth, but truth wears many faces.”
Her eyes glimmered with quiet understanding as she stepped closer, stopping just short of the mirror’s reflection. “You see a fawn because that is how the world first met you. Gentle. Cautious. Still learning the strength in your own steps.” Her tone softened further, coaxing rather than commanding. “But look again. The fawn is not only fragile. She is wild. She survives because she listens to her heart’s whisper, not the hunter’s call.”
Valecia lifted one elegant hand toward the glass. The reflection shimmered, the fawn’s image flickering between doe and fawn, innocence and awakening. “This is not a curse,” she said gently. “It is memory. The reminder of who you were before the world taught you to hide your magic.”
She lowered her hand, the glow around the mirror fading to a soft halo. “Now tell me, Lizbeth,” she said, her voice curious and kind. “What is it you seek tonight? To remember what was lost… or to learn who you are becoming?”
The candles flickered, their light dancing over the red silk and silver glass, as the air between them shimmered with quiet, living magic.
Valecia’s attention drifted from her crystal ball as the silken curtain stirred. The faintest breath of autumn air entered with the newcomer, carrying the scent of leaves and innocence. She felt it before she saw her…something pure, fragile, and untamed. When the girl stepped through the threshold, Valecia’s gaze softened, though her poise remained untouched.
The mirror beside her pulsed faintly, as if alive to the energy in the tent. Valecia turned toward it and then toward the trembling figure standing near the entrance. Her voice, when it came, was low and melodic, each word a calm ripple in the charged air.
“Welcome, little wanderer.” She rose from her seat in a single, fluid motion, the red of her gown catching the light like flame. “Do not be afraid. The mirror shows truth, but truth wears many faces.”
Her eyes glimmered with quiet understanding as she stepped closer, stopping just short of the mirror’s reflection. “You see a fawn because that is how the world first met you. Gentle. Cautious. Still learning the strength in your own steps.” Her tone softened further, coaxing rather than commanding. “But look again. The fawn is not only fragile. She is wild. She survives because she listens to her heart’s whisper, not the hunter’s call.”
Valecia lifted one elegant hand toward the glass. The reflection shimmered, the fawn’s image flickering between doe and fawn, innocence and awakening. “This is not a curse,” she said gently. “It is memory. The reminder of who you were before the world taught you to hide your magic.”
She lowered her hand, the glow around the mirror fading to a soft halo. “Now tell me, Lizbeth,” she said, her voice curious and kind. “What is it you seek tonight? To remember what was lost… or to learn who you are becoming?”
The candles flickered, their light dancing over the red silk and silver glass, as the air between them shimmered with quiet, living magic.
Evelyn was certainly flattered, a faint blush coloring her cheeks as she cast her gaze downward. "I hardly feel worthy of such praise, thank you," she said, inclining her head to emphasize her gratitude.
She felt reassured by what the sorceress saw within the mirror, welcoming such an interpretation. Evelyn had worried that this image in the mirror might mean that she was not living her truth upon first seeing this veneer. But Valecia had given her a new perspective, a gift in and of itself. "I can tell that you are a woman whose power is rivaled only by her beauty, but it seems that you have wisdom as well. It humbles and gentles me far more than you know that this is a matter of restraint rather than concealment. The veil no longer being necessary would be quite the dream, but at least I can lift it a little on Halloween."
The witch slipped the coin into a pocket of her dress, intending to keep it as a token of this night to remember it by. This was not something to spend. She smiled as a sweet was presented to her, accepting one. "I thank you, and wish you the best of Halloweens," she said sincerely, offering a small curtsy. "Farewell," she said, turning back out into the night.
She felt reassured by what the sorceress saw within the mirror, welcoming such an interpretation. Evelyn had worried that this image in the mirror might mean that she was not living her truth upon first seeing this veneer. But Valecia had given her a new perspective, a gift in and of itself. "I can tell that you are a woman whose power is rivaled only by her beauty, but it seems that you have wisdom as well. It humbles and gentles me far more than you know that this is a matter of restraint rather than concealment. The veil no longer being necessary would be quite the dream, but at least I can lift it a little on Halloween."
The witch slipped the coin into a pocket of her dress, intending to keep it as a token of this night to remember it by. This was not something to spend. She smiled as a sweet was presented to her, accepting one. "I thank you, and wish you the best of Halloweens," she said sincerely, offering a small curtsy. "Farewell," she said, turning back out into the night.
@ Evelyn
Valecia regarded her with a look that hovered between approval and something almost tender. The faintest smile touched her lips as the other woman’s words settled into the candlelight between them.
“Worthy?” she repeated softly, tilting her head with quiet amusement. “Child, the mirror does not flatter the unworthy. It shows what is already there, only hidden by doubt. You need not earn its favor.”
Her gaze followed the motion of Evelyn’s hand as the coin slipped into her pocket. The silver light from the lanterns caught against the metal, glinting like a captured star. “Keep it.” Valecia said gently. “It is a promise. When you are ready to lift the veil entirely, the mirror will remember you.”
The crystal beside her pulsed once, faintly, as if echoing her words. Valecia’s expression softened further, her tone lowering to something like a blessing. “Restraint is not weakness. It is power in its most elegant form. But never let restraint become silence. The world needs your voice, your craft, and the light that still hides beneath your careful calm.”
She raised a hand in farewell, the jewels at her wrist catching the flicker of the flames. “Go well into the night. May your Halloween be filled with the kind of magic that does not fade with morning.”
As Evelyn turned to leave, Valecia’s reflection lingered in the mirror’s glass, watching until the curtain fell closed again. Then she exhaled softly, the faintest shimmer rippling through the tent as she whispered to the silence itself. “Another soul who remembers what she once was.”
Her eyes drifted toward the crystal ball, already glowing faintly with new light. “Let us see who seeks truth next.”
Valecia regarded her with a look that hovered between approval and something almost tender. The faintest smile touched her lips as the other woman’s words settled into the candlelight between them.
“Worthy?” she repeated softly, tilting her head with quiet amusement. “Child, the mirror does not flatter the unworthy. It shows what is already there, only hidden by doubt. You need not earn its favor.”
Her gaze followed the motion of Evelyn’s hand as the coin slipped into her pocket. The silver light from the lanterns caught against the metal, glinting like a captured star. “Keep it.” Valecia said gently. “It is a promise. When you are ready to lift the veil entirely, the mirror will remember you.”
The crystal beside her pulsed once, faintly, as if echoing her words. Valecia’s expression softened further, her tone lowering to something like a blessing. “Restraint is not weakness. It is power in its most elegant form. But never let restraint become silence. The world needs your voice, your craft, and the light that still hides beneath your careful calm.”
She raised a hand in farewell, the jewels at her wrist catching the flicker of the flames. “Go well into the night. May your Halloween be filled with the kind of magic that does not fade with morning.”
As Evelyn turned to leave, Valecia’s reflection lingered in the mirror’s glass, watching until the curtain fell closed again. Then she exhaled softly, the faintest shimmer rippling through the tent as she whispered to the silence itself. “Another soul who remembers what she once was.”
Her eyes drifted toward the crystal ball, already glowing faintly with new light. “Let us see who seeks truth next.”
Valecia Valentine - Sorceress wrote:
“Now tell me, Lizbeth,” she said, her voice curious and kind. “What is it you seek tonight? To remember what was lost… or to learn who you are becoming?”
Lizbeth wants to touch the mirror, her hand goes softly forward. 'Little stardust', the way Angel her Mom called her, is shown. It's Lizbeth, then and now. Few moments pass, full of admiration of that doe towards that special mirror.
"But..but I have no magic in me, I was a fawn, that fawn...." her other hand lowers from her muzzle to her heart, she feels the warmth, she feels that little fawn's unblemished heart.
"What do I seek, I think.. I...", the doe hesitates, her hand at her heart forming a fist, no, not memories, those are buried deep in here, "What have I become?" Her look lowers, her eyes close.
@Lizbeth
Valecia watched as the doe’s reflection wavered between past and present, the glass humming with the soft pulse of memory. When Lizbeth spoke, her words trembled with disbelief, with innocence wrapped in pain. The sorceress did not interrupt. She simply listened, her expression unreadable save for the faintest warmth behind her sapphire eyes.
When Lizbeth’s voice faltered, Valecia moved closer. The rustle of her gown whispered through the candlelight, and when she spoke, her tone carried the gentleness of falling rain.
“You are mistaken, little stardust,” she said softly. “Magic does not live only in those who conjure storms or command flame. Magic lives in those who survive. In those who carry tenderness where the world has tried to carve it away.”
She lifted her hand once more toward the mirror, and the image within began to shift. The fawn’s eyes glowed faintly with starlight, the white spots along her back shining like constellations. The reflection no longer looked small or afraid, it looked eternal.
“This heart you feel beating in your chest,” Valecia continued, her voice rich with calm power, “it is the same heart that once ran wild through the forest, untouched and untamed. You have not lost her. You have only learned to protect her.”
Her fingers brushed the air, and the shimmer of light flowed across the mirror’s surface, melting the reflection back into Lizbeth’s own image. “What you have become is not what they made of you,” she said. “It is what you chose to be after. Every scar beneath your fur, every tear that dried before another could see it, those are not marks of weakness, but of sacred resilience.”
Valecia stepped back, her gaze steady and kind. “The fawn lives within you still. She is your compass, your reminder that gentleness is not the opposite of strength. It is its highest form.”
The candles flickered, and for a moment, their flames bent toward Lizbeth like flowers seeking sunlight. Valecia inclined her head slightly, the motion elegant and reverent.
“You seek to know what you have become,” she said finally, her tone a whisper that seemed to echo from the walls. “You have become what the stars themselves could not imitate, a creature of light that refused to go out. Go now, stardust. The forest remembers you. And it waits.”
The mirror dimmed again, leaving only the shimmer of the candlelight and the quiet breath of magic that lingered, gentle as a blessing.
Valecia watched as the doe’s reflection wavered between past and present, the glass humming with the soft pulse of memory. When Lizbeth spoke, her words trembled with disbelief, with innocence wrapped in pain. The sorceress did not interrupt. She simply listened, her expression unreadable save for the faintest warmth behind her sapphire eyes.
When Lizbeth’s voice faltered, Valecia moved closer. The rustle of her gown whispered through the candlelight, and when she spoke, her tone carried the gentleness of falling rain.
“You are mistaken, little stardust,” she said softly. “Magic does not live only in those who conjure storms or command flame. Magic lives in those who survive. In those who carry tenderness where the world has tried to carve it away.”
She lifted her hand once more toward the mirror, and the image within began to shift. The fawn’s eyes glowed faintly with starlight, the white spots along her back shining like constellations. The reflection no longer looked small or afraid, it looked eternal.
“This heart you feel beating in your chest,” Valecia continued, her voice rich with calm power, “it is the same heart that once ran wild through the forest, untouched and untamed. You have not lost her. You have only learned to protect her.”
Her fingers brushed the air, and the shimmer of light flowed across the mirror’s surface, melting the reflection back into Lizbeth’s own image. “What you have become is not what they made of you,” she said. “It is what you chose to be after. Every scar beneath your fur, every tear that dried before another could see it, those are not marks of weakness, but of sacred resilience.”
Valecia stepped back, her gaze steady and kind. “The fawn lives within you still. She is your compass, your reminder that gentleness is not the opposite of strength. It is its highest form.”
The candles flickered, and for a moment, their flames bent toward Lizbeth like flowers seeking sunlight. Valecia inclined her head slightly, the motion elegant and reverent.
“You seek to know what you have become,” she said finally, her tone a whisper that seemed to echo from the walls. “You have become what the stars themselves could not imitate, a creature of light that refused to go out. Go now, stardust. The forest remembers you. And it waits.”
The mirror dimmed again, leaving only the shimmer of the candlelight and the quiet breath of magic that lingered, gentle as a blessing.
Lizbeth is amazed by the mirror and what appears to shine through. The sorceress enveloping her in shimmering magic, like a cocoon. The doe is a fawn again, the fawn has become a doe, the image and reality blur and fade, unite, mix… the tent with an elegant move leaves Lizbeth back in her glade, the one where she saw light for the first time, Angel, Maxwell all the herd and in the middle, that one fawn with shiny sprinkles. She can almost touch, almost smell.
Lizbeth closes her eyes and opens them back again with the sorceress, the candles, all ‘normal’ again, a breeze of memory, a moment for remembrance. But the deer has a smile on her face, not regrets.
The words of the sorceress are like balm for a soul, for those who let them enter, for those who believe in their soul. The words speak the truth, the words describe Lizbeth.
Lizbeth feels the urge to find her forest, find that heartbeat again that darted through that glade full of hope and life, she leaves the tent without a word. It is not necessary to talk to show one’s gratitude, the doe knows that the sorceress is aware.
She has not been tricked, but treated with something very special, “ be the fawn you are”.
Lizbeth closes her eyes and opens them back again with the sorceress, the candles, all ‘normal’ again, a breeze of memory, a moment for remembrance. But the deer has a smile on her face, not regrets.
The words of the sorceress are like balm for a soul, for those who let them enter, for those who believe in their soul. The words speak the truth, the words describe Lizbeth.
Lizbeth feels the urge to find her forest, find that heartbeat again that darted through that glade full of hope and life, she leaves the tent without a word. It is not necessary to talk to show one’s gratitude, the doe knows that the sorceress is aware.
She has not been tricked, but treated with something very special, “ be the fawn you are”.
Elyana wasn't one to dress up for Halloween. In many ways, she didn't tend to celebrate the holiday, preferring to view it as an innocent time for children to use their imaginations and enjoy the sweets that would surely rot their teeth if left to their own devices. However, the cool night air was helping to clear her mind tonight. She'd simply been wandering past when the tent caught her attention.
Tending to put much value on coincidence, Elyana took a small step inside. The interior was hauntingly beautiful, the woman enchanting as she spoke. A quick glance at the mirror revealed a haze that obscured its full picture from being shown. Elyana's gaze quickly darted away, anxiety coloring her response.
"What if I'm afraid of what I might see?" Possibilities like this didn't cross her path often, and the enormity of it was almost too much to handle, even if she had been searching for answers for quite some time.
Tending to put much value on coincidence, Elyana took a small step inside. The interior was hauntingly beautiful, the woman enchanting as she spoke. A quick glance at the mirror revealed a haze that obscured its full picture from being shown. Elyana's gaze quickly darted away, anxiety coloring her response.
"What if I'm afraid of what I might see?" Possibilities like this didn't cross her path often, and the enormity of it was almost too much to handle, even if she had been searching for answers for quite some time.
The mirror’s surface trembled at Elyana’s question as though it had heard her fear. Candlelight flickered softly across the tent, wrapping her in gold and violet. Valecia’s gaze lifted, calm but kind, and for a moment it seemed the whole space held its breath with her.
“Fear is honest,” she said quietly. “It means your heart already senses what your eyes may not yet be ready to see. Those who feel the veil tremble often stand closest to truth.”
Her tone carried no judgment, only understanding. She stepped nearer, the subtle fragrance of myrrh and pomegranate following like a whisper. In the mirror, Elyana’s reflection remained hazy, yet something luminous stirred within the mist, a soft light flickering from her chest outward as though testing the air.
“There is no need to rush it,” Valecia murmured. “The mirror shows only what you are ready to accept. When you are willing to meet your own light, it will meet you halfway.”
Her eyes glowed faintly as she tilted her head. “You carry the touch of old magic. The kind that hides for survival, yet still longs to be known. The mirror does not wish to frighten you, Elyana Amari. It remembers where you come from, even if you have tried to forget.”
Valecia’s hand drifted toward the crystal dish beside her, the confections within catching the candlelight and pulsing with soft color. The air seemed to hum as she spoke. “Take one, if you wish,” she said gently. “They are not ordinary sweets. Each is spun with a charm of comfort and courage. For some, they bring a memory of warmth. For others, the reminder that they have always been seen.”
The tent fell quiet again, but the air felt alive, heavy with candlelight, promise, and something patient. Valecia remained standing beside the mirror, her gaze steady and welcoming, as though she would wait as long as it took for Elyana to be ready.
“Fear is honest,” she said quietly. “It means your heart already senses what your eyes may not yet be ready to see. Those who feel the veil tremble often stand closest to truth.”
Her tone carried no judgment, only understanding. She stepped nearer, the subtle fragrance of myrrh and pomegranate following like a whisper. In the mirror, Elyana’s reflection remained hazy, yet something luminous stirred within the mist, a soft light flickering from her chest outward as though testing the air.
“There is no need to rush it,” Valecia murmured. “The mirror shows only what you are ready to accept. When you are willing to meet your own light, it will meet you halfway.”
Her eyes glowed faintly as she tilted her head. “You carry the touch of old magic. The kind that hides for survival, yet still longs to be known. The mirror does not wish to frighten you, Elyana Amari. It remembers where you come from, even if you have tried to forget.”
Valecia’s hand drifted toward the crystal dish beside her, the confections within catching the candlelight and pulsing with soft color. The air seemed to hum as she spoke. “Take one, if you wish,” she said gently. “They are not ordinary sweets. Each is spun with a charm of comfort and courage. For some, they bring a memory of warmth. For others, the reminder that they have always been seen.”
The tent fell quiet again, but the air felt alive, heavy with candlelight, promise, and something patient. Valecia remained standing beside the mirror, her gaze steady and welcoming, as though she would wait as long as it took for Elyana to be ready.
Elyana took a shallow breath, captivated by the resonance of the words the woman spoke. "Feel the veil tremble". No doubt, she could've been referring to that specific instance, but could she also be referring to the portals? Did that count as the veil trembling? It seemed like it counted for reality itself trembling to Elyana. Perhaps she was just reading into it too much. That's what she'd experienced many times before, writing the answers to her own questions and giving someone else the credit. But this was different. The atmosphere was sentient.
The scents around her were both calming and focus facilitating. It allowed her a second for a breath before it was knocked entirely out of her again at the speaking of her name. She blinked, staring at the woman as innocently as a doe in headlights. There was definitely no way she was doubting her now.
Looking back to the mirror, this time with more deliberate intention, Elyana subconsciously raised her chin and squared her shoulders, squinting through the fog, following the light like a support beacon. When she still couldn't see anything, she felt almost disappointed. Like she wasn't trying hard enough. Was she really hiding truth from herself? Unknowingly refusing to accept some piece of the truth?
Sighing softly, she accepted a candy piece with gratitude. As the flavor exploded across her tongue, Elyana smiled, nodding her head in agreement with the woman's advice. "I desperately needed that." Suddenly feeling a bit less nervous, she took a cautious step forward, towards the mirror, gesturing nonverbally to clarify it was alright for her to.
The scents around her were both calming and focus facilitating. It allowed her a second for a breath before it was knocked entirely out of her again at the speaking of her name. She blinked, staring at the woman as innocently as a doe in headlights. There was definitely no way she was doubting her now.
Looking back to the mirror, this time with more deliberate intention, Elyana subconsciously raised her chin and squared her shoulders, squinting through the fog, following the light like a support beacon. When she still couldn't see anything, she felt almost disappointed. Like she wasn't trying hard enough. Was she really hiding truth from herself? Unknowingly refusing to accept some piece of the truth?
Sighing softly, she accepted a candy piece with gratitude. As the flavor exploded across her tongue, Elyana smiled, nodding her head in agreement with the woman's advice. "I desperately needed that." Suddenly feeling a bit less nervous, she took a cautious step forward, towards the mirror, gesturing nonverbally to clarify it was alright for her to.
Valecia tilted her head, a faint, knowing smile on her lips. The mirror’s surface rippled once, as though it, too, had exhaled. The air in the tent grew warmer, touched by the soft glow of the candles and the faint shimmer rising from the sweets in her dish. “Good,” she said softly. “You have already begun.”
Her tone carried no urgency, only approval. Valecia stepped aside slightly, leaving space before the mirror for Elyana to approach. “The mirror never forces truth. It only responds to invitation. You have offered yours.”
As Elyana drew closer, the haze within the glass began to shift. Wisps of mist parted like breath on a cold morning, revealing faint shapes that shimmered just beyond clarity. A horizon. A figure. A pulse of silver light moving in rhythm with her own heartbeat.
“Do not strain to see,” Valecia murmured. “Let it come to you as memory does…in pieces, in color, in feeling. What hides will not be coaxed by force but by recognition.”
Her eyes glowed faintly in the mirror’s reflection, though her expression remained calm. “You ask if the veil trembling is the same as the portals,” she said, voice quiet but certain. “Yes, in part. Every crossing between worlds makes the veil quiver, but not all who feel it can follow. You can. You have. And that is why the mirror listens when you speak.”
She paused, the faint sound of the candles flickering like the heartbeat of the space. “You are not hiding truth from yourself, Elyana. You are protecting it. There is a difference.”
Valecia’s gaze softened as she gestured toward the glowing light within the mist. “That spark is your truth. The one that has never stopped calling to you. You may not see its full shape tonight, but know this. It remembers you.”
She took a single step back, and let the silence between them fill with warmth and quiet anticipation. “When you are ready,” she said gently, “reach toward it. The veil opens only for those who walk without fear.”
The mirror’s surface steadied, glowing faintly gold as if waiting for Elyana’s touch. Valecia stood beside her, poised but patient, the guardian of truth and its keeper of light.
Her tone carried no urgency, only approval. Valecia stepped aside slightly, leaving space before the mirror for Elyana to approach. “The mirror never forces truth. It only responds to invitation. You have offered yours.”
As Elyana drew closer, the haze within the glass began to shift. Wisps of mist parted like breath on a cold morning, revealing faint shapes that shimmered just beyond clarity. A horizon. A figure. A pulse of silver light moving in rhythm with her own heartbeat.
“Do not strain to see,” Valecia murmured. “Let it come to you as memory does…in pieces, in color, in feeling. What hides will not be coaxed by force but by recognition.”
Her eyes glowed faintly in the mirror’s reflection, though her expression remained calm. “You ask if the veil trembling is the same as the portals,” she said, voice quiet but certain. “Yes, in part. Every crossing between worlds makes the veil quiver, but not all who feel it can follow. You can. You have. And that is why the mirror listens when you speak.”
She paused, the faint sound of the candles flickering like the heartbeat of the space. “You are not hiding truth from yourself, Elyana. You are protecting it. There is a difference.”
Valecia’s gaze softened as she gestured toward the glowing light within the mist. “That spark is your truth. The one that has never stopped calling to you. You may not see its full shape tonight, but know this. It remembers you.”
She took a single step back, and let the silence between them fill with warmth and quiet anticipation. “When you are ready,” she said gently, “reach toward it. The veil opens only for those who walk without fear.”
The mirror’s surface steadied, glowing faintly gold as if waiting for Elyana’s touch. Valecia stood beside her, poised but patient, the guardian of truth and its keeper of light.
Elyana had to admit that the woman was almost terrifying in how accurately she could read the things she hid from everyone. But, somehow, she felt she could trust her. A deep knowing of sorts.
Kneeling in front of the mirror, the surface cleared a bit to her eyes almost instantly, though the edges were still cloaked in obscurity. It showed the aforementioned sight; though what may have been interpreted to be Ellie was, in fact, her mother. She held that same ethereal light, after all. Elyana instinctively reached out, a soft gasp escaping her lips as her fingertips just barely grazed the surface.
There was a metaphor in here somewhere, something far deeper than Elyana would fully understand tonight, but would come to her eventually. Despite this, the mirror had given her something she hadn't had in quite awhile, something incomparable.
The last glimpse of her mother had been frail, withered. Elyana hadn't realized how much this had shaped her perception until just now. This proved what Elyana had always known, but had neglected to trust in. Her mother's spirit was still alive. Just as young and thriving and beautiful as in her reflection here.
Kneeling in front of the mirror, the surface cleared a bit to her eyes almost instantly, though the edges were still cloaked in obscurity. It showed the aforementioned sight; though what may have been interpreted to be Ellie was, in fact, her mother. She held that same ethereal light, after all. Elyana instinctively reached out, a soft gasp escaping her lips as her fingertips just barely grazed the surface.
There was a metaphor in here somewhere, something far deeper than Elyana would fully understand tonight, but would come to her eventually. Despite this, the mirror had given her something she hadn't had in quite awhile, something incomparable.
The last glimpse of her mother had been frail, withered. Elyana hadn't realized how much this had shaped her perception until just now. This proved what Elyana had always known, but had neglected to trust in. Her mother's spirit was still alive. Just as young and thriving and beautiful as in her reflection here.
The air in the tent changed the instant Elyana knelt. The candles flared, their light bending as though drawn toward her. Valecia did not speak at first. She only watched, her expression unreadable but softened.
The mirror shimmered once more, its haze thinning until the image within stood clear enough to steal the breath. The woman’s face that emerged carried the same light as Elyana, the same curve of cheek and grace of gaze. Valecia’s hand hovered over the mirror’s edge but never touched it, her eyes reflecting the quiet ache in Elyana’s own. “Love never dies,” she said softly. “It simply changes the way it reaches us.”
The glass rippled beneath Elyana’s fingertips as if the reflection itself had sighed. A faint golden shimmer drifted upward like fireflies escaping water. “You have seen her as she is,” Valecia continued, voice low and melodic. “Not bound by pain or time, but whole. The mirror shows only truth when the heart is open enough to receive it. She has been near you all along, waiting for you to look without fear.”
Valecia sank gracefully to one knee beside her. For a long moment she simply remained there, a quiet presence rather than a seer. “Grief clouds even the brightest light,” she said gently. “But yours is clearing now. Let the memory remain vivid, not heavy.”
She gestured softly toward the crystal dish, where the sweets glowed in hues of lilac and rose. “Take another, if you wish,” she offered. “This one carries remembrance. Its magic will keep her voice near when you most need to hear it.”
The mirror’s light steadied once again, faint ripples still moving across its surface as though a lingering breath of love had been caught within the glass. Valecia’s eyes never left Elyana’s face, her voice a quiet promise. “You were never meant to stop seeing, child of both realms. Only to learn when to look.”
The mirror shimmered once more, its haze thinning until the image within stood clear enough to steal the breath. The woman’s face that emerged carried the same light as Elyana, the same curve of cheek and grace of gaze. Valecia’s hand hovered over the mirror’s edge but never touched it, her eyes reflecting the quiet ache in Elyana’s own. “Love never dies,” she said softly. “It simply changes the way it reaches us.”
The glass rippled beneath Elyana’s fingertips as if the reflection itself had sighed. A faint golden shimmer drifted upward like fireflies escaping water. “You have seen her as she is,” Valecia continued, voice low and melodic. “Not bound by pain or time, but whole. The mirror shows only truth when the heart is open enough to receive it. She has been near you all along, waiting for you to look without fear.”
Valecia sank gracefully to one knee beside her. For a long moment she simply remained there, a quiet presence rather than a seer. “Grief clouds even the brightest light,” she said gently. “But yours is clearing now. Let the memory remain vivid, not heavy.”
She gestured softly toward the crystal dish, where the sweets glowed in hues of lilac and rose. “Take another, if you wish,” she offered. “This one carries remembrance. Its magic will keep her voice near when you most need to hear it.”
The mirror’s light steadied once again, faint ripples still moving across its surface as though a lingering breath of love had been caught within the glass. Valecia’s eyes never left Elyana’s face, her voice a quiet promise. “You were never meant to stop seeing, child of both realms. Only to learn when to look.”
Elyana’s gaze didn’t waver from the mirror, her fingertips ever so lightly hovering, as if she was frozen in awe. It wasn’t until the woman knelt beside her that she lowered her hand slowly. Each word spoken to her was like cutting the tie of something that had been eating away at her spirit for so long. Something that had kept her spirit from fully thriving and being able to accomplish what she’d been set out to do since birth. The weight on her was lifting.
Tears clouded her eyes, and when she blinked, thin lines of silver glistened down her cheeks. “Thank you.” She whispered, unsure if she should be directing it towards the woman, the mirror, or perhaps the universe as a whole.
Due to the lump forming in her throat, Elyana accepted the candy, but held onto it instead of eating it. She figured this memory would be more than enough to last her for at least the rest of the night, if not far longer. She’d eat the candy the next time she needed the reminder.
Taking a deep breath to steady herself, Elyana rose to her feet. Never before had a Halloween night felt so important. So insightful. Yet, the amount of revelation Elyana felt she could handle was diminishing. She wanted to go to the woods. In general, because it was where she felt safest to express her emotion, but now there was a different ache attracting her. One that promised freedom from her self-made gilded cage.
Before she left, she wanted to give the woman something. She wasn’t sure if the woman had received anything all night, despite giving so much to others, at least if Elyana’s experience was indicative of anything.
“Here. Please. I insist.” Elyana pulled a pendant from around her neck, which had been hidden until this point. Encased inside was a preserved Middlemist's Red Camellia, known to be the rarest flower. “I hope it gives you as much as you’ve given me, though I can’t possibly see how.”
Elyana took a final look around the tent, silently bidding farewell and watching the light from the candles flicker and warp in response. “Have a truly lovely rest of your evening.” Then, she stepped back out through the flaps of the tent, greeting the cool air against her flushed skin, and headed towards the trees.
Tears clouded her eyes, and when she blinked, thin lines of silver glistened down her cheeks. “Thank you.” She whispered, unsure if she should be directing it towards the woman, the mirror, or perhaps the universe as a whole.
Due to the lump forming in her throat, Elyana accepted the candy, but held onto it instead of eating it. She figured this memory would be more than enough to last her for at least the rest of the night, if not far longer. She’d eat the candy the next time she needed the reminder.
Taking a deep breath to steady herself, Elyana rose to her feet. Never before had a Halloween night felt so important. So insightful. Yet, the amount of revelation Elyana felt she could handle was diminishing. She wanted to go to the woods. In general, because it was where she felt safest to express her emotion, but now there was a different ache attracting her. One that promised freedom from her self-made gilded cage.
Before she left, she wanted to give the woman something. She wasn’t sure if the woman had received anything all night, despite giving so much to others, at least if Elyana’s experience was indicative of anything.
“Here. Please. I insist.” Elyana pulled a pendant from around her neck, which had been hidden until this point. Encased inside was a preserved Middlemist's Red Camellia, known to be the rarest flower. “I hope it gives you as much as you’ve given me, though I can’t possibly see how.”
Elyana took a final look around the tent, silently bidding farewell and watching the light from the candles flicker and warp in response. “Have a truly lovely rest of your evening.” Then, she stepped back out through the flaps of the tent, greeting the cool air against her flushed skin, and headed towards the trees.
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