Galadriel Mirror Novels & Stories

Every tree, every rock, every gust of wind seemed to whisper of dangers lurking just beyond the horizon. Lia’s wrist-mark had been flaring with more intensity over the past few days, the power within her growing stronger, and yet more volatile. The strange "Mirror Soul" ability—this gift, or curse—was becoming harder to control. Every time she replicated magic, it drained her energy, leaving her weak and vulnerable. But she couldn’t stop. The Heart of the Greykin was still out there, and it was the only hope for her people. At least, that’s what she kept telling herself.

Scene 2: The Fire Mirror Hours later, they reached a vast cavern cut deep into the mountain’s side. The air shimmered with heat. In the center, a lake of magma bubbled angrily, and above it hovered a strange relic—a polished obsidian mirror framed in gold. Iris approached it cautiously, drawn by the power radiating from it. Her reflection shimmered in the surface, then twisted. She gasped. She saw herself—not as she was, but as she had once been. Nadia. Whole. Untouched by betrayal.

she said in a low tone, with her head bowed and her hands across her chest. "It's... " the princess heaved a sigh, "Don't mind me, Cordelia. It's okay." Beatrix replied with a facepalm. The large ruby-coloured mirror was a special one used by royalty to watch an event live from its source without being found out. She knew only werewolves had access to the direct streaming of the triennial contest but she found a way to connect to it using the mirror. She actually stole it from where it was kept with the help of her maid and replaced it with a fake for the time being.

It was hard to see what she was thinking. Candice closed her eyes and was about to speak when a nurse approached. "The patient in bed thirty-two has awakened." Bed thirty-two was Conrad’s. Alex walked in, and Candice followed closely behind. Conrad lay on the hospital bed, pale. He looked at Alex and gestured silently. "Mr. Elysian, it seems there's a conflict between the destinies of Blue Artifact and Aether." His statement almost killed any possibility of cooperation. Alex’s expression darkened slightly.

Something like grief reflected in his eyes and my body shuddered, trying to take me away from delirium, however, I was held by that network of thoughts and Miguel said: "There is an artifact called a water mirror in the dungeons of this castle, it was made as a perfect mold of the same that exists where I live. In the world I live in," he clarified, quickly looking away to see if his friends were still oblivious to all the dialogue that only Miguel could hear. “Go to the mirror. Its waters are healing." "I can't move," I replied, and our eyes closed for a second when I returned to my own body abruptly, losing the strength of my own consciousness.

In the quietude of his room, with the soft hum of the night outside, Asher lay there, his tired body seeking reprieve, while his restless mind continued to navigate the labyrinth of emotions that Ezra's presence had stirred within him. On the other side of the night, in the quiet solitude of her room, Ezra sat in front of her mirror, eyes fixed on her reflection. Droplets of water trickled down from her long hair, evidence of the refreshing shower she had just taken. As she stared into her own eyes, a flood of memories from the reunion surged through her.

Without elaborating, he guided me into a sitting position and said softly, “Turn around, beautiful.” I was clueless about how this would give me a better view until I turned and faced the headboard. Dain waved his hand and dark magic rippled in the air, shimmering like heatwaves under the baking sun. The headboard vanished, and so did the marble wall behind it. In its place was a mirror, one that climbed the walls and stopped a few inches short of the arched ceiling.

Just as he was feeling stumped, however, he suddenly heard a voice call out, “You’re not Eldest Young Mistress…!” Upon hearing that, Gerald immediately looked around… But there was no one there. Eventually, his gaze fell upon one of the magic artifacts… It was a bronze mirror. Walking toward the mirror, Gerald then asked, “Are you the one who spoke?” After his question, the mirror began to glow… and shortly after a little girl—who looked to be around eight—with pigtails wearing a floral-patterned jacket appeared! “That’s right!” replied the child. “…Hmm? And here I thought you were a magic artifact… As it turned out, you’re just a mirror made from spirits! How long have you been trapped in t

Because for him, it has. “Prepare them,” he says casually. The guards move instantly. Not rushing. Not hesitating. Obedient. A massive object is brought into the chamber. It takes several warriors to carry it—an obsidian mirror framed in jagged stone that seems to absorb light rather than reflect it. The surface ripples faintly, as if something beneath it is aware of being used. A communication relic. Old. Unstable. Powerful. It is set upright before Malrik. He steps in front of it, adjusting nothing, waiting for nothing. The mirror responds immediately to his presence, dark energy curling across its surface like smoke trapped behind glass.

[SPELL: VEIL BREAKER] [TARGET: AREA WIDE] The sky above the battlefield darkened. The clouds swirled, forming a perfect, reflective circle. A mirror in the heavens, a mile wide. "Look up!" Vespera commanded. The soldiers, confused, looked up at the giant mirror in the sky. It showed the battlefield below. It showed the dragon. It showed the soldiers. But when the reflection showed Lysander and Elara, the image shifted. The illusion shattered. In the mirror, Lysander looked sickly. His golden armor was tarnished. His skin was grey, his eyes sunken, his life force visibly draining away like smoke.