Gemstone Mirror Novels & Stories

Candice opened the drawer, and in it lay rows of jewelry boxes. Alex whispered, "There are not only diamond necklaces here but also bracelets, rings, earrings, and many other jewels. If you don't like any of them, I'll buy more, or if you think diamonds are depreciating, I can exchange them for gold." Candice looked at the large pile of branded jewelry in the drawer and asked Alex, "Why did you buy all these?" "They look nice, and I wanted to buy them all for you," Alex said with his profound eyes looking at Candice. "But buying all these made me realize that diamonds are quite ordinary. If you want something beautiful and elegant, it should be sapphire."

But here—in this dead land—it pulsed like a heartbeat trying to keep her tethered to something real. “I can feel it,” she whispered. “It’s close.” They pressed on. Eventually, the trees opened into a clearing—silent and circular, ringed with stones carved with runes so old even Long didn’t recognize them. At the center stood a mirror. Not in a frame. Not hanging. It rose from the earth like a blade. At least twelve feet tall, silver and black, the surface shimmered like moonlight on deep water. But when Emma stepped forward, it did not reflect her.

The Watcher's smile turns predatory as he produces something that shouldn't exist—a mirror crafted from obsidian so pure it seems to absorb light itself, its surface rippling with veins of silver fire that pulse in rhythm with my heartbeat. The frame appears to be carved from crystallized starlight, edges sharp enough to cut reality itself, and when I look at it, my reflection doesn't show. Instead, the surface writhes with possibilities, showing glimpses of futures and pasts that exist in the spaces between what is and what could be.

Before he crawled to the end of the bed and made to reach for the mirror itself. Surprised at the intricate details and foreign scene with the mirror’s image. Gemma dropped the mirror in fear as her eyes met his startling green eyes, and his hand reached out to her. It bounced off the corner of the nightstand. When it finally settled on the bed. Gemma saw a crack form in the mirror’s glass. The glass stayed within the frame as the image winked out and the crack formed. She stood there for a breath or two, trying to process what she saw. A boy and his bear.

It was low and so quiet that I had to strain to hear it, but there was no mistaking that voice. It was Lina’s. Throwing caution to the wind, because I was fearless like that, I said fuck it and approached the mirror. The frame wasn’t just silver, it also had carvings of the moon phases down each side. At the top was a crystal the size of my fist. It sparkled as I approached, and part of me wondered if it was in greeting or a warning that my soul was about to get sucked out through my nose. With my luck it would be the latter.

The shelf shifted, revealing a narrow hallway bathed in violet flame. The air grew cooler as they descended, scentless and strange, until they reached a circular chamber carved into the earth itself. Moonlight filtered in from above through enchanted quartz, illuminating the murals on the stone walls—stories told in wolf-shapes and crimson swirls. In the center stood a mirror. Seven feet tall. Frame forged from ironwood, inlaid with veins of silver and howlite. But the glass itself… it rippled like a liquid dream. Zara stared at it, something primal in her blood waking.

The Moonstone pulsed once—then split into two fragments, still connected by the thinnest strand of glowing energy. And Aria’s eyes flew open, pupils dilated wide, breath ragged. “I saw it,” she whispered. “I saw the mirror again.” Kael knelt beside her. “What mirror?” “A mirror made of memory. It’s fractured—but each shard holds a part of me. A life. A choice. And in the center… something darker.” Kael’s voice was calm, steady. “Did it show you anything new?” She turned toward him, face pale but resolute. “Yes. It showed me her.”

The walls began to shift from moonlit white to deep sapphire, etched with strange constellations that seemed to rearrange themselves when I wasn’t looking. Eventually, we reached a chamber shaped like a dome. It was silent. Not just quiet—truly silent. No birdsong. No wind. Even my breath felt muffled. At the center stood a tall, mirror-like structure, glowing faintly, its surface rippling like disturbed water. It was framed in bone-white stone that pulsed like it had a heartbeat. “What is this place?” I whispered. “The Mirror of Moons,” Seraphina said. “It doesn’t reflect what you see—it reflects what you hide.”

He disappeared into the adjoining room, the beaded curtain rustling behind him. My thoughts went to Zevarion. I had already made my choice, I would stay by his side, no matter what, but I needed to know. I had to know what he truly was. The man returned moments later, cradling a black mirror with edges that shimmered faintly like the surface of still water under moonlight. “This is an obsidian mirror,” he explained. “Drop your blood onto it, or into water mixed with silver dust. When a demon looks into it, their true form will be revealed.”

He enjoyed the way their eyes flashed to his but never stayed, the way they were afraid. "Are we clear?" Veyron's piercing and purposeful voice broke through the muttering. The only sound to break the silence was the distant trickle of water from the cavern's roof. The gathered crowd reluctantly nodded, not wanting to say anything. "Well done." A grin that was equal parts threat and joy curved his lips. He turned away and paced to the chamber's edge, where a huge mirror made of obsidian stood, its surface vibrating slightly as if it were alive. That mirror was an ingenious bit of engineering. An all-in-one surveillance tool and platform. He had seen kingdoms collapse, alliances break, and li