Valecia rose slowly as Elyana stood, the soft rustle of her gown the only sound that dared to move in the still air. The light within the tent dimmed and steadied, as though the mirror itself were watching the young woman go. When Elyana turned back with the pendant in hand, Valecia’s expression softened into something rarely seen, surprise touched by quiet grace.
She accepted the offering with both hands, cradling it as though it were a relic of great power. Within the glass of the pendant, the preserved red camellia seemed to pulse once, faintly, responding to the energy that lingered between them.
“The Middlemist’s Red,” she murmured, her voice threaded with reverence. “A bloom said to appear only where devotion endures beyond worlds. You honor me, Elyana Amari. This gift carries its own enchantment now, the gratitude of a heart made lighter.”
She closed her fingers gently around the pendant, and a subtle shimmer passed from her touch to the air itself. “May it return to you threefold,” she said. “Whenever you walk among the trees and feel the breeze stir your hair, know that she walks beside you. The love between you has no end.”
For a moment, Valecia’s gaze drifted toward the mirror once more. Its surface had cleared entirely now, the faint reflection of two figures side by side, mother and daughter, both radiant. When she turned back, her eyes gleamed with quiet understanding.
“Go where your heart leads you,” she said softly. “The woods will listen tonight. Their silence is not emptiness, but welcome.”
As Elyana stepped into the cool night, the mirror dimmed to its resting glow. Valecia lifted the pendant once in silent blessing, then set it beside the crystal dish of sweets, where it caught the flicker of every candle flame like a living heartbeat.
The sorceress stood a long while after the fae’s departure, her eyes distant but tender. Her lingering smile seemed to promise, to any who entered next, that some truths were not meant to be feared at all.
When the air settled again, the mirror shimmered faintly, waiting. The scent of myrrh and sugared violets returned to the air, and the quiet hush of possibility filled the tent once more. Valecia turned her gaze toward the entrance, her calm voice carrying just enough to reach whoever might step inside next.
“Welcome, traveler. The mirror is listening.”
She accepted the offering with both hands, cradling it as though it were a relic of great power. Within the glass of the pendant, the preserved red camellia seemed to pulse once, faintly, responding to the energy that lingered between them.
“The Middlemist’s Red,” she murmured, her voice threaded with reverence. “A bloom said to appear only where devotion endures beyond worlds. You honor me, Elyana Amari. This gift carries its own enchantment now, the gratitude of a heart made lighter.”
She closed her fingers gently around the pendant, and a subtle shimmer passed from her touch to the air itself. “May it return to you threefold,” she said. “Whenever you walk among the trees and feel the breeze stir your hair, know that she walks beside you. The love between you has no end.”
For a moment, Valecia’s gaze drifted toward the mirror once more. Its surface had cleared entirely now, the faint reflection of two figures side by side, mother and daughter, both radiant. When she turned back, her eyes gleamed with quiet understanding.
“Go where your heart leads you,” she said softly. “The woods will listen tonight. Their silence is not emptiness, but welcome.”
As Elyana stepped into the cool night, the mirror dimmed to its resting glow. Valecia lifted the pendant once in silent blessing, then set it beside the crystal dish of sweets, where it caught the flicker of every candle flame like a living heartbeat.
The sorceress stood a long while after the fae’s departure, her eyes distant but tender. Her lingering smile seemed to promise, to any who entered next, that some truths were not meant to be feared at all.
When the air settled again, the mirror shimmered faintly, waiting. The scent of myrrh and sugared violets returned to the air, and the quiet hush of possibility filled the tent once more. Valecia turned her gaze toward the entrance, her calm voice carrying just enough to reach whoever might step inside next.
“Welcome, traveler. The mirror is listening.”
He approached the tent cautiously with a warriors step, firm yet agile, and a believer's respect. He was no stranger to magic. Magic had once been something he relied on greatly for decision making and guidance. It wasn't the magic he was leering of, it was the potential scan. True weavers of magic were few and far between these days. He had learned not to trust in the ones who claim loudly to be seers, as they were normally frauds. However, as his feet carried him towards this tent he sensed that old world feeling of magic - that tingle in the air that raised goosebumps and the small hairs on his body.
He inhaled deeply and then extended his arm to shift the curtain out of the way so he could enter. Though, he found his way impeded by a giant mirror. "Hello?" he said curiously as he tried to see around the glass, but something caught his eye causing to gaze deeply into his own reflection.
In his opinion, he wasn't much to look at. Short brunette hair. Angular cheek bones that led to an almost pointy chin. A Cupid's bow mouth that was held in a position that read 'displeased' even when he wanted to be smiling. Smiling was currently absent from his life and had been for a while now. He looked upon himself, his blue eyes turning nearly gold in the flicking light of the candles.
He felt a breeze start from inside the tent and brush across his face as if it meant to remove a mask he didn't realize was there. When he looked back into the mirror the eyes of the dragon looked back at him - red and burning like amber in a white hot fire. Then, after a few blinks, the dragon was gone and he stared into darkness. "Does darkness mean I have no soul?" He asked the mirror, for he knew not who else to ask.
But as he stared, from far off in the distance inside the mirror, a figure began to appear. A silhouette cloaked in shadow walking down a long, dimly light corridor was coming closer.
He inhaled deeply and then extended his arm to shift the curtain out of the way so he could enter. Though, he found his way impeded by a giant mirror. "Hello?" he said curiously as he tried to see around the glass, but something caught his eye causing to gaze deeply into his own reflection.
In his opinion, he wasn't much to look at. Short brunette hair. Angular cheek bones that led to an almost pointy chin. A Cupid's bow mouth that was held in a position that read 'displeased' even when he wanted to be smiling. Smiling was currently absent from his life and had been for a while now. He looked upon himself, his blue eyes turning nearly gold in the flicking light of the candles.
He felt a breeze start from inside the tent and brush across his face as if it meant to remove a mask he didn't realize was there. When he looked back into the mirror the eyes of the dragon looked back at him - red and burning like amber in a white hot fire. Then, after a few blinks, the dragon was gone and he stared into darkness. "Does darkness mean I have no soul?" He asked the mirror, for he knew not who else to ask.
But as he stared, from far off in the distance inside the mirror, a figure began to appear. A silhouette cloaked in shadow walking down a long, dimly light corridor was coming closer.
The mirror reacted before Valecia did. Its surface shuddered once, light blooming along the frame as if it had recognized the presence that entered. The air within the tent thickened with an old energy, something that spoke not of tricks or parlor shows, but of memory, ancient, slow, and knowing.
Valecia rose from her seat. Her expression softened, though her gaze remained sharp. The dragon’s reflection still lingered faintly upon the glass, its heat a whisper against the candle flame.
“Darkness does not mean absence,” she said quietly. “It is where power sleeps until it is needed. Even the stars are born from it. A soul such as yours cannot be lost. Only contained.”
She stepped closer, the mirrored light catching the shimmer of her silver rings. Within the reflection, the shadowed corridor shifted. The cloaked figure that had appeared began to take shape, the mirror’s way of remembering his truest form.
“The dragon within you does not forget,” Valecia murmured. “It watches as you weigh your own worth in mortal eyes, and it wonders when you will remember that fire was never meant to please. It was meant to transform.”
For a long moment, she studied him through the reflection, not the man before her but the being behind him. Her tone softened to something nearer to awe. “You carry a crown that was forged in flame and discipline. The darkness is not your punishment, Fitzpatrick Darsey Allhallows. It is your inheritance.”
The candles flickered low, their flames bowing toward the mirror. Valecia’s gaze returned to his, steady and unafraid.
“If you wish to see what sleeps beyond the corridor, you need only ask,” she said, her voice a gentle challenge. “But know this, the mirror will answer in truth, not in flattery. It shows only what already belongs to you.”
She motioned toward the crystal dish beside the glass, where the sweets shimmered like captured stars. “Take one, Prince of Dragons. Each carries a different spell. Choose carefully. One restores memory, another grants clarity, and a third kindles flame.”
As she spoke, the reflection behind the glass began to shift again, the faint silhouette in the distance lifting its head. Two sparks of light appeared where eyes might be, patient, waiting, familiar.
Valecia’s lips curved into a knowing smile. “He remembers you.”
Valecia rose from her seat. Her expression softened, though her gaze remained sharp. The dragon’s reflection still lingered faintly upon the glass, its heat a whisper against the candle flame.
“Darkness does not mean absence,” she said quietly. “It is where power sleeps until it is needed. Even the stars are born from it. A soul such as yours cannot be lost. Only contained.”
She stepped closer, the mirrored light catching the shimmer of her silver rings. Within the reflection, the shadowed corridor shifted. The cloaked figure that had appeared began to take shape, the mirror’s way of remembering his truest form.
“The dragon within you does not forget,” Valecia murmured. “It watches as you weigh your own worth in mortal eyes, and it wonders when you will remember that fire was never meant to please. It was meant to transform.”
For a long moment, she studied him through the reflection, not the man before her but the being behind him. Her tone softened to something nearer to awe. “You carry a crown that was forged in flame and discipline. The darkness is not your punishment, Fitzpatrick Darsey Allhallows. It is your inheritance.”
The candles flickered low, their flames bowing toward the mirror. Valecia’s gaze returned to his, steady and unafraid.
“If you wish to see what sleeps beyond the corridor, you need only ask,” she said, her voice a gentle challenge. “But know this, the mirror will answer in truth, not in flattery. It shows only what already belongs to you.”
She motioned toward the crystal dish beside the glass, where the sweets shimmered like captured stars. “Take one, Prince of Dragons. Each carries a different spell. Choose carefully. One restores memory, another grants clarity, and a third kindles flame.”
As she spoke, the reflection behind the glass began to shift again, the faint silhouette in the distance lifting its head. Two sparks of light appeared where eyes might be, patient, waiting, familiar.
Valecia’s lips curved into a knowing smile. “He remembers you.”
The voice, soft and feminine, came from beyond the mirror. He stepped up one side of the mirror, his figure still reflected in the frame, as she came around to engage him. She spoke, he listened. Her words touched truths he had already come to terms with. "Only contained," he repeated in a near whisper. "You seem to know my status and my origin. So, I asked you, Madam, since I am a prince of the stars, was I made from one?" He reached out and brushed the fingertips of one of his hands over the guilded frame. "It's one of the questions I have never found an answer to. Am I part star?"
He looked down at the candy bowl and let the hand that traced the intricate carvings of the mirror drop down and pluck an alluring blue candy. He took the ends of the wrapper between the thumb and forefinger of each hand and twirled it a little. "I want to see what's beyond the darkness. I want to see what sleeps. But, before I do, I want to know why it sleeps." He turned to face the mirror full on. "As you said, I, and my crown, were forged in discipline, fire, and failure. I am not a fool for I learn from my short comings." He looked from the candy in his fingers back into the mirror. "My victories as well, but my failures more. By failing, I have learned what kind of man I truly am."
He glanced over to Valecia, "Do you think what lies beyond the nothingness is the light of a star or the death of one?" Fitzpatrick had been soul searching the last few months, contemplating whether his end was near or if he was about to enter into a period of rebirth and start a whole new chapter on what had been an extremely long life already.
He looked down at the candy bowl and let the hand that traced the intricate carvings of the mirror drop down and pluck an alluring blue candy. He took the ends of the wrapper between the thumb and forefinger of each hand and twirled it a little. "I want to see what's beyond the darkness. I want to see what sleeps. But, before I do, I want to know why it sleeps." He turned to face the mirror full on. "As you said, I, and my crown, were forged in discipline, fire, and failure. I am not a fool for I learn from my short comings." He looked from the candy in his fingers back into the mirror. "My victories as well, but my failures more. By failing, I have learned what kind of man I truly am."
He glanced over to Valecia, "Do you think what lies beyond the nothingness is the light of a star or the death of one?" Fitzpatrick had been soul searching the last few months, contemplating whether his end was near or if he was about to enter into a period of rebirth and start a whole new chapter on what had been an extremely long life already.
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