Crushed Crystal Mirror Novels & Stories

He’d done monstrous things, but in the end, he chose their child over power. It didn’t absolve him. But it meant something. She looked down at her hands. “And the child?” Lilith hesitated. “That’s… complicated.” Mira stepped forward and held out a shard of glass—no bigger than a coin, inscribed with flickering runes. It glowed faintly in Ivy’s presence. “This is an Echo Crystal. It reacts only to true heirs of the Flame.” She pressed it near Ivy’s stomach. The crystal pulsed once.

I just hope whoever he is, he is ready for the most unimaginable curses that are about to befall him for meddling into affairs that aren't his to interfere. I stared at the shards scattered on the floor then at the broken mirror by the vanity. It wasn't no ordinary mirror. I could see my purple eyes starting to change with slight significance that can only be obvious when in extreme close contact with anyone. Fuck! I need my damn potions right now and goddess help me I lay my hands on whosoever did this!

The door opened and revealed a big circular area with a mirror as its floor. A large crystal was at the center of the room, it was transparent but it refracted the light that passed through it. "The formation will scan your sea of consciousness, don't oppose it or the test won't be accurate. Now sit and stare at your reflections on the floor, I will activate the inscriptions." Megan moved toward the crystal and took out a shining gem. 'That should be worth one hundred Credits.' Lucinda judged before she sat and stared at her reflection. Her skin was smooth and slightly pale, her eyebrows were thin and her eyes were bright.

The door opened and revealed a big circular area with a mirror as its floor. A large crystal was at the center of the room, it was transparent but it refracted the light that passed through it. "The formation will scan your sea of consciousness, don't oppose it or the test won't be accurate. Now sit and stare at your reflections on the floor, I will activate the inscriptions." Megan moved toward the crystal and took out a shining gem. 'That should be worth one hundred Credits.' Sara judged before she sat and stared at her reflection. Her skin was smooth and slightly pale, her eyebrows were thin and her eyes were bright.

There was something maternal about the way she interacted with Elara, a gentle presence that had become a source of comfort over the years. As they walked through the gallery, Miriam’s attention was drawn to a small painting tucked away in a corner—a piece Elara had painted herself. It was abstract, filled with sweeping strokes of deep blues and vibrant oranges, representing the emotional turmoil Elara had experienced during her battle with Cassia and her journey toward healing. Miriam paused in front of the painting, her gaze thoughtful. “This piece,” she said softly, “it feels so personal. Like a reflection of everything you’ve been through.”

The corridor shuddered violently, not from any thunderous crash or quake of the earth, but from a raw, pulsating power that seeped through the very stones. Torches flickered erratically along the walls, their flames bending away from an unseen wind, casting elongated shadows that twisted like living serpents. At the heart of it all stood the ancient mirror, its once-polished surface now roiling like black oil under a storm-swept sea. Veins of crimson light throbbed beneath the glass, cracking outward in jagged fissures as if the frame itself strained to contain the abomination within.

For the first time, the shadows on the walls moved against the light instead of with it — slow, deliberate, like listening. Corren didn’t notice. He leaned closer to the basin, eyes narrowing. “She moves north.” Lysia’s smile sharpened. “Then our moment has come.” From beneath the table, she withdrew a small coffer — polished black wood inlaid with crescent silver. She opened it, revealing a fragment of crystal no larger than a fingertip. It pulsed faintly red. “The mirror shard,” she said. “The same used when Veylan was cast down. It still remembers him.”

Maps, goblets, and the half-empty decanter of whiskey crashed to the floor in a satisfying cascade of glass and amber liquid. But it wasn’t enough. I grabbed the iron candelabra next and swung it like a club. It smashed through the tall mirror on the far wall. Shards rained down glittering and sharp. My reflection fractured into a dozen versions of myself, each one more ruined than the last. I swung again. The candelabra bent on impact and flew from my hand, embedding itself in the opposite wall with a dull thunk.

In a worst-case scenario, we would go down with all the haunts! The haunts could feel it too; the air was thick with our grit and guts. The haunts were indecisive, hovering in the air, until I flashed the gold coins in my account again with a flick of my wrist. Their eyes blazed like torches. They transformed from ice-cold killers to groveling sidekicks in a heartbeat. I was speechless. The haunts let out a beastly howl, and a whole horde of haunts came rushing in, then zipped off through a space crack.

Cracks bloomed across the mirror like spreading frost, splintering the distorted face into a thousand jagged smiles. Then the glass gave way. The mirror shattered with a violent crack, raining shards into the sink, tinkling like mocking applause. Seraphine collapsed, knees buckling. She curled onto the cold tile, arms wrapping tight around herself, rocking as tremors wracked her body. Her breath came ragged, shallow, tasting of dust and copper. She pressed her forehead to her knees, tears streaking hot down her cheeks. For a moment, she thought she might disappear entirely, break apart into ash like the words on her pages, scatter, and be forgotten.