Broken Mirror In A Dream Novels & Stories

When I did finally close my eyes, I dreamed of mirrors. Not just one,hundreds, maybe thousands, stretching endlessly in every direction. I walked barefoot through the void, the silence shattered only by the crunch of glass beneath my feet. Every mirror reflected a different version of me. One was laughing. One was screaming. One had blood smeared across her mouth. One stood beside Jonathan, his fingers twined with hers like they belonged there. But none of them looked free. I stopped at a mirror with no reflection. Just black. Cold seeped through the surface as I touched it.

Damon’s image looked older, and he was filled with anger and sorrow. “These mirrors,” Damon said, his hands tightening, “they’re trying to mess with our heads. Don’t let them.” Aiden nodded, but his unease grew with every step. He stopped in front of a particularly big mirror, unable to look away. The mirror showed him standing alone, surrounded by ruins. His hands were covered in blood, and behind him lay Damon, dead. “No,” Aiden mumbled, shaking his head. “That’s not real.” The reflection’s eyes snapped up, locking onto his. “But it could be,” it said, its voice a frightening echo of his own.

My father, his perfect beautiful wife, and their golden son, Andrian, living their perfect, Aria-free life. A sharp pain ran through my skull. The mirror across the room *cracked.* *No. Not again.* I squeezed my eyes shut, but it was too late. The glass darkened, warped, and for one terrifying second, I saw *her*—a girl with my face but hollow black eyes, lips curled in a smile that wasn’t mine. Then—*crack.* The mirror shattered. I shook as shards rained onto the floor. My breath seized. This was the third time this week. Third time something impossible happened around me. Third time I had no explanation.

And between those columns— Mirrors. Hundreds of them. No two alike. Some were tall and elegant, framed in blackened gold. Others were warped, their surfaces rippling like disturbed water. A few were fractured, split into jagged pieces that still somehow functioned as one. But none of them reflected Hell. They showed the human world. Cities. Streets. Homes. Moments. A woman crying in silence. A man screaming in rage. A child laughing—until the moment twisted into something else. Each mirror held a different scene, a different fragment of humanity.

The last one… was Elara. Mira stepped forward, and the reflection moved with her. “You’re not me,” she said. The Elara-mirror smirked. “No. I’m what’s left of who you tried to bury.” Mira clenched her fists. “I buried her for a reason.” “She’s not gone,” the reflection said. “You absorbed her. You wear her bones.” Suddenly, the mirror cracked—from the inside. Black static spilled out. And Mira woke up screaming. Carl was at her side in seconds. “What is it?”

A small, cracked mirror. I held the broken mirror in my hands, fingers tightening around the cold frame. The words scratched into the back stared up at me like a curse. “Blood births blood. Again." The guards stood nearby, waiting for orders. But I had none to give. Not yet. I wasn’t even sure what this meant… if it was a warning, a prophecy or something far worse. “Burn it." I said finally, handing the mirror to one of the guards. “I don’t want my son seeing it."

Sleep did not come easily after that. When it did, it betrayed me. I dreamed of mirrors, endless reflections of myself, each one warped slightly differently. In one, my eyes were entirely black. In another, shadows bled from my mouth when I spoke. In a third, I wore Morwein’s face, smiling as blood dripped from my fingers. I tried to wake myself. Instead, the dream deepened. The ground beneath my feet shifted into a stone circle I did not recognize, ancient, cracked and half-swallowed by time. Torches flared to life one by one, though no hands lit them. Their flames burned a sickly violet.

He knew that this mirror held the key to their redemption, but he also sensed that it held a revelation that would shatter their perceptions. With trembling hands, Jaxon reached out and touched the surface of the mirror. An intense light burst forth, engulfing him and his companions. Images flashed before their eyes fragmented memories, hidden truths, and a revelation that shook their very foundations. The mirror revealed a startling revelation they were not the first to embark on this quest. Countless others had sought the Key of Renewal, each doomed to fail. The path they had followed was not a road to redemption but a cycle of despair. The mirrors held a malevolent power, trapping those w

Her reflection stared back. Becky leaned closer, eyes narrowing. The woman in the mirror leaned closer too, lips parting. For a second—just a second—Becky thought she saw water bead along the reflection’s hairline. Thought she saw silver light flicker beneath the skin. She screamed. With a violent motion, she ripped the mirror from the wall. Glass shattered as it hit the floor, shards exploding outward. Becky stumbled back, chest heaving, staring at the broken pieces scattered at her feet. Each fragment reflected her face at a different angle—twisted, fractured, multiplied.

The mark on his chest flared so bright it threw shadows across the clearing. The mirror shuddered. Serenya’s image flickered, then solidified—eyes wide, her mouth opening in silent terror. “Kaelen!” Mireya lunged, pulling him back as the surface of the mirror cracked. Silver light poured from the fractures, spilling across the altar and into the ground. The air screamed, high and sharp, like the tearing of metal. The echoes surrounding the clearing convulsed, their bodies twisting into smoke. Kaelen’s vision blurred. Through the pain, he saw her again—closer this time, reaching through the broken mirror as though clawing her way back.