Chapter Text
Was it because you felt lonely? Maybe you wanted the mundane days to be over. It could have been due to nothing at all that you heard a voice when you were supposedly alone.
Perhaps it was simply fate.
Ah…! My dear beloved…
Your gaze snaps over to where the voice originated. The only thing you could see was your mirror from behind the fallen sheet.
Carefully, you walk over and completely unveil the dusty mirror. Your reflection stares back at you.
Until it doesn’t.
The mirror blanks like someone painted it darker than black. Green mist swirls at its centre, spinning in a hypnotizing manner.
The most noble flower of evil…
It is you who are the most beautiful in the world!
The mist changes to green flames that warm your face as you look closer for your missing visage.
Have you been awake for too long? Hallucinations are known side-effects of lack of sleep, but you shouldn’t be affected by things like that.
Oh magic mirror, on the wall. Tell me. Who is the…
The last part is cut off by the sound of a horse-drawn carriage. You haven’t heard that sound in a long time. Ominous cawing overlaps it closely.
You, whose image the Dark Mirror did beckon forth…
If your heart bids it, take the hand of the one reflected in the mirror.
A gloved hand that does not belong to you appears in the glass that should be reflecting your movements. Oddly, you don’t feel any fear. If anything, you feel tempted by the mirror’s invitation.
Uncaring of the consequences, you take the hand in the mirror.
It’s dark in the abyss of the mirror. Cold too. Like the depths of a lake.
The world explodes in a burst of light. When it’s gone, you find yourself sitting on the ground of a dark hall. Chandeliers provide low lighting with a green glow to the many pews. Coffins bob aimlessly as they float.
Your mirror now stands proudly in the centre, uninhibited by any sheet or grime. You touch its gold frame and the voice and flames come to life once more.
The fire that appears is red and ordinary. Sparks orbit around the inferno.
As flames reduce even the stars to ash!
A chill comes from a shard of ice that takes the place of warmth.
As ice seals away even time itself!
The loud rustle of leaves makes you blink. They dance in an whirling wind.
As great trees swallow even the sky!
The mirror goes dark and you still cannot see yourself.
Do not fear the power of Darkness.
You don’t fear the dark. You only feel unsettled by the things it could hide in itself.
Now, show me your power.
Looking around yields no results for ways for you to do as such. The voice continues anyway.
For me.
For them.
For you.
The hours grow long and time is scarce.
Do not let go of that hand...
You are brought to the midst of a battlefield. A failed subjugation may describe the scene better.
What you can see is limited. It’s hard to focus past the way everything blurs together like the distant horizon.
Children in robes wield pens with darkening gems against a beast.
It was a chimera of sorts. It was mostly feline and an amalgamation of other features that creates a perfect nightmare.
The blue flames that make up its mane flare as it roars. Its monstrous appearance dwarfs even the children’s shadows.
There’s fear and doubt in the eyes of the children that you can see clearly. Blood permeates the air from their injuries that they hold tenderly.
The beast looks largely uninjured in comparison.
It was clear who would make it out alive and who would die where they stood.
Your presence going unnoticed is your first hint. The second is when a boy runs through you to attack the monster. Such actions make it hard to be ignorant to the fact that you can’t help them.
So you watch and memorize. Because surely your efforts will be rewarded. Why else would the mirror show you something that you can’t interfere with if not to warn you?
You regard each move from both sides carefully. Each hit that the boys suffer, each attack the beast dodges, every flaw in the way the children move and the attacks that make the beast yowl the loudest. You devote it all to memory as best you can.
It can’t be a hallucination like you first thought. The brain only recalls faces it has seen before.
Although they feel familiar, you can say with certainty that you have never seen the boys in front of you. You wouldn’t have forgotten the unique colourings of their features nor the few with animal ears and tails.
The scene fades as the last child falls into a pool of his own blood.
The sound of something tapping against stone wakes you up. You’re not coherent enough to make out the accompanying muttering yet.
You limit yourself to examining the space you woke up in. It’s dark and cramped and comfortable. Like a bed. Only vertical because you were standing for some reason.
Something itches at the edge of your mind. You feel like you forgot something. It wouldn’t be the first time.
Your mirror had called out and then–
“Crap! People are coming. I better find a uniform before someone spots me!”
The voice is high-pitched and comes from someone shorter than you. You bump your head when you try to look down for the owner.
“Hrk! This lid weighs a ton!”
You stubble into the side of your confinement when something jerks the exterior.
“Hey–” you try to call out.
The jostling stops and you think they heard you. You’re about to ask if they can get you out of whatever space you’re in when the voice continues to talk to itself.
“Stupid lid…” they say. “Try this on for size! Mya-ha!”
Your enclosure starts to heat up. Wisps of blue creep in through the cracks on one of the sides. Startled, you kick and it skids across the floor in a grand boom of noise.
Light pours in and you can see again. You take the chance to look at the thing that had you trapped. From the shape and design, you can only assume it’s a coffin.
A floating one, too.
Lost in your thoughts of wondering if you were at risk of being buried alive, you take a step to leave the box. Your foot meets thin air and you’re lucky to have been able to grasp the warm edge before your nose got intimate with the floor.
Visually measuring the distance, you climb out of the floating coffin. To your surprise, no strings or wires suspend it in the air.
You’re in a hall that glows a dim green. More floating coffins line the perimeter. The scorched lid lies between the pews and you go to retrieve it. Before you can, something blocks your path.
You look down until your eyes meet cerulean. Arctic blue blazes in the ears of the animal glaring at you. It wears a black and white bow around its neck. The charred ends almost get caught in its forked tail.
A memory calls for your attention–
“You ain’t supposed to be awake!” it shouts.
The white tuft of fur on its chest looks so soft as it’s surrounded by grey. You wonder if it would allow you to pet it. From the way it glares at you, you doubt things will go as you’d like.
You smile placatingly because it sounds young. Around toddler age, maybe a bit older. A child nonetheless. “I am sorry for waking earlier than expected,” you say. “Do you know where I am?”
Its face twists in confusion before returning to the arrogance from before. “You got a lotta nerve to do something wrong then ask the Great Grim for something, human. Find out for yourself!!” he huffs. “Now hurry up and gimme your uniform! You’re gonna regret it if you don’t!”
His warning is emphasized by the increasing heat and brightness of the fire in his ears. His sharp laughter gives you time to see what is being asked for.
You doubt you even own anything as luxurious as the robe you’re dressed in. It was black with purple on the inside. Gold embroidery pieces it together beautifully. An empty gold pouch shaped like a key hangs on your left.
How strange.
Grim stomps impatiently at your feet. Your smile doesn’t change. Children don’t appreciate when you laugh at their earnest demands.
You undo the sash and take off the robe. You help Grim wear it while avoiding his flaming ears.
It’s a difficult task to make it look proper when it’s clear the robe was tailored for someone much taller but you do what you can.
Grim looks all too pleased with your obedience and sticks his paws out for better access. It is much easier to give in to the whims of children than to argue.
Grim twirls in his new robe and laughs loudly. You slip away as his ego expands. The door barely makes a sound when you close it.