A Mirror Mended Novels & Stories

The ground was not even soft, it was an abandoned place and there were many small stones which were pricking her feet. He flinched when her ghungroos broke and one almost hit him in the eye but he caught it. Mira stopped while breathing heavily as she looked at her scattered ghungroos. She sat on the ground while catching her breath and closed her eyes to control her anger. Damon looked at the single ghungroo on his palm and placed it in his pocket while walking away. Mira gathered her broken ghungroos and placed them in the bag. She knew they would shatter but she was going to fix them, just like she fixed herself after shattering.

“Come back to me. You hear me? You’re not leaving me again.” The glow of the seal pulsed once more, calm this time. Nathan and Lira watched from a distance, their faces streaked with dirt and disbelief. Mira pressed her forehead against Thane’s, whispering softly, “It’s over. I promise.” When he didn't wake up, Mira pressed her hands harder against the wound, whispering frantic words. Her vision blurred with tears as the golden light beneath her palms spread wider, mending torn flesh, knitting what had been broken.

Yet seeing it reminded me of Laila and her stories about the Omega who became Luna. I sighed and made to throw the mirror into the bin beside my table since it was basically useless now anyway. “Ouch!” I let out a pained gasp when a broken shard of the mirror cut through my finger, making me slam the mirror back on the table. I bled from the little and I blew on it, trying to stop it from bleeding even more. I couldn’t bear having any more injuries when I was only just healing from the ones inflicted on me days ago.

But why do I still see the broken girl even if the mirror is not there anymore? The blood on my hands is proof that I did everything to make the broken girl go away, but she remains. I’m broken. And there is no fixing me. Even if there is no mirror, I will still be broken because the problem is not the mirror, it’s not the people who see me. The problem is ‘me’.

It was as if its light was reaching out to me, and saying to me, ‘come, nearer, yes come my darling. The wooden door was filled with all sorts of spider webs, looking cramped and old just then two rats gushed out of the empty key hole. I could not imagine why I kept walking towards the old brick house, but I could barely control my steps, how much more my entire self. I opened through the wooden door and immediately found myself in the middle of a large roundly shaped room having all sorts of mirrors. Staring at the mirrors I could see a similar image in all of them, all looking like the image of a man whose voice I earlier mistook for the light on the rooftop of the old brick house. The voi

The next morning arrived quietly. Soft rays of sunlight spilled into the hospital room, casting delicate shadows across the white floor tiles. Anna sat propped up against a pillow, a thin blanket over her legs, her fingers lightly brushing the edge of the beaded necklace Mama Grace had left behind. She didn't understand why, but something about the Charm kept drawing her in. It felt safe. Even though her Memory still refused to offer answers, She was slowly adjusting to the

Is the multiverse getting tired of my interventions? I kept asking myself for hours, days, weeks; but the truth was that I didn’t care even a little about the answer. I just wanted to see her. A low flicker arose from the mirror I built with the crystal, it was a mere copy, a copy of the mirror I once saw in a dragon’s room; it was a poorly made and obviously depressing copy, but it was enough for me.

The elf answered more seriously. "While we have a moment," Aurora interrupted. "There is one item in the bag which I would like to discuss with you." The Empress reached into the sack and pulled out a beautiful guilded mirror. "This is one of a pair of mirrors used to send messages. I have the other." "A pair, you say?" Mairwen took the delicate object in her grasp. "How can you be sure there are only two?" Zan piped in, "Based on Gandr and our own tinkerings. We are confident only these two are connected."

We all looked at the shards of glass that were used to be a mirror. “That mirror was over one hundred years old,” Beatrice said, eliciting head-shaking from those around her. “The best we could do was stand pack once the destruction began, and I got a lot of people into the bathroom where they could lock the door.” “Was anyone else hurt?” Mira asked, switching into healing mode. “I’m a doctor, if anyone needs care—“ “We’re okay, thank you,” Beatrice said, holding up a hand. “They weren't here to kill anyone, though they didn't seem fazed if someone got in the way of their mayhem.”

********" The mirrors whispered. Each surface rippled as if breathing — countless reflections of Soren shifting with every heartbeat. In some, he stood bathed in light. In others, his eyes glowed like Lucien’s, veins black with corruption. But the image that frightened him most wasn’t the monstrous ones. It was the ones where he smiled. Because in those reflections, Travian stood beside him — but the world behind them burned. “Travian,” Soren said at last, voice rough with disbelief. “How—?”