A Mirror Mended Novels & Stories

"Hello? I said handing out the food to Lizzy who stood impatiently waiting. She took it from me hurriedly going over to the counter to hand it over to the waiting customers. "Hey Mirabel, longest time..oh my God, how are you doin it was a voice of a lady and it was kind of familiar but I didn't really remember who it was. "I.. am fine" I replied. "Wow! Mira, so you're still in this world, i've never even seen you for once in school even by mistake or anything" She exclaimed. I remembered the voice so well now and it was boolu, my roommate from hundred Level.

I declared, meeting the gazes of Alex and Isabella. "But what if I don't like what I see?" Isabella's voice trembled. Alex wrapped an arm around her. "It's not about liking or disliking. It's about understanding, acceptance, and growth. We're all imperfect, but that's what makes us human." Together, we stepped closer to the mirror, each of us confronting our reflected truths. The mirror pulsed, its energies resonating with our emotions. As we faced our past and accepted our present, the mirror began to crack, fissures of light breaking through.

🌑 Chains of Eternity The air was so heavy Kael could hear the blood rushing in his ears. Every breath from his companions sounded too sharp, too loud, too wrong. The mirrors no longer needed to move. The doubt had already taken root. Mira’s lips trembled as she whispered to herself, voice cracking like old glass: “I can’t… I can’t trust what I’m seeing. Not anymore.” Her reflection smiled with jagged teeth and pressed its forehead against the trembling glass. The sound was like bone grinding.

“You’re late.” He smiled faintly. “I always was.” --- They spoke alone, beneath a twisted tree of broken glass leaves. “I didn’t know the shard would embed,” Azrael said quietly. “The mirror had a will of its own.” Selene winced as her veins pulsed again. “Can you fix it?” He crouched beside her, pressing his hand over hers. “I can’t remove it,” he said. “But I can redirect it.” “To what?” He met her gaze.

A ripple in the echo. A name flaring through the Weave. Autumn. Mirabella reached across time—not as a ghost, but as legacy. And she saw her. Crowned. Glowing. Alone—but not. The Mirror did not consume her. It accepted Autumn, weaving her story into its own endless tapestry. The light that once devoured now shone through her, clear and whole. The Mirror chose her. Mirabella smiled—or would have, if she had lips to do so.

Plates, glassware, forgotten files from twenty. I searched and searched for the tea bags and when i thought that all hope was lost. But as i placed my hand behind a stack of legal binders, I find a metal tin. The lid is dented. The label is faded but legible. Earl Grey. Finally. I take the tin. I close the cabinet. My hair has slipped from its clip during the search. My blazer is wrinkled across the back from leaning into shelves. I look disheveled. I look like a woman who fought for something and refused to surrender.

It was old, the frame tarnished silver worked into a pattern of vines, the glass itself dark, like looking into a pool of standing water rather than a mirror. My reflection didn’t show up in it the way it should have. I turned it over in my hands, then carried it over to where Melissa was sleeping. “Melissa.” I touched her shoulder. “Wake up. I think I found something.” Her eyes opened, blinking blearily, and then sharpened the second they landed on the mirror in my hands. She sat up straighter.

Mira made a miserable expression “Can you do it without being caught?” Martin turned to look at Jack, but he couldn’t make heads or tails from Jack’s poker face. “Okay” Martin left the house looking like he had nothing to live for. Mira went back to embroidering Aunt Beth’s cloth. She couldn’t help herself and added embellishments with copper threads.... careful to not draw attention yet enough to add a little magic to the design!

“I’m not here to win, Sarah. I’m here to take back what has always been mine.” Sarah’s gaze shifted to the mirror hanging on the wall. Her face contorted with fury as she drew back her fist and slammed it into the glass. The mirror cracked, fractures spreading across the surface like spider webs. Blood welled on her knuckles where glass had cut skin. I looked at the mirror, seeing my own reflection broken into pieces. Fragmented versions of myself staring back from different angles. Sarah’s voice came out low, dangerous. “That reflection… broken into pieces… that’s how you’ll end in this war.”

The mirror room had been designed to project calm—a clean, symmetrical space with soft lighting and seamless glass meant to promote introspection. But tonight, it felt more like a maze of grief. Every wall reflected a different version of Isabella and Adrian: fractured, weary, straining beneath the weight of what they could no longer unsee or undo.