Gemstone Mirror Novels & Stories

As they reached the final chamber, Ayla stopped. At its center stood a single mirror—taller than a man, its frame carved from moonstone. The surface rippled faintly, as if it were breathing. Her heart pounded. “This is it.” Kian stepped closer, his hand on his sword. “Careful. The Mirror doesn’t just show. It binds.” Ayla ignored him. She lifted her hand and touched the glass. The surface rippled beneath her fingertips, cool and alive. For a heartbeat, she saw only her reflection. Then, slowly, another image formed—her face, but different. Darker eyes. A crescent mark glowing on her brow.

he finally inquired. I nodded. My sensitivity to the world's shifts, heightened after the funeral rites, was why I had fought to be there. The world was awash with malice and a bizarre sense of wrongness, as if a polar bear had wandered into the Antarctic. My gut told me that dissonance was our lifeline. Our mission was to dispel it and set things right. Our imperative was to drive the haunts away and reclaim the world. On my way over, an idea popped into my head out of nowhere: gold coins were what made the strange world go round, and the haunts were so crazy about them.

As soon as she does, the necklace, which has pure red gems in the middle, turns into a white gem, as if it has been cleansed. "Woooooh!" Despite hearing celebratory cries from the street, K Whatever did not care and wore the necklace. The man on the ground realized what they had done and sat up as he told the two. "Years ago, a mirror that holds hundreds of souls trapped inside, broke." He explained, "Those souls are the ancestors living in this estate. It was a cursed mirror. After it exploded, they went out into the street to ask for help, but everyone was scared and fled the area. This area became ‘a hunted street’."

The man ignored the travelers and continued to stare at the large gold coin his hand even as Mira was standing in front of him. “Good day!” Mira greeted the man. “We’ve come to have these gemstones changed into gold coins.” She then inserted her hand into her pocket and showed two gemstones that she had already previously taken out of her feather bag. The man noticed the glittering stones laid on the table and immediately turned his attention towards them. He looked up and down at Mira and then at Eldion before raising his large lens and placing them above the gemstones on the table.

The surface ripples faintly as though stirred by the wind. Ceres (whispering to herself): “You remember, huh? Let’s see what you’ve got tucked away in those silver bones.” She presses her palm against the cool glass. For a moment—nothing. Then a faint pulse. The surface shimmers, her reflection melting away… revealing a stone, a hallway behind it. A gate. Ceres (stepping back, breath shallow): “No. No way.” A whisper floats from the mirror—her voice, echoing back distorted. Mirror (whispering):

From inside the bag, she takes out a round mirror, made of a black stone, which was so polished. - Is that the Mausoleum stone? – Romeo asks. - yes, this is an Obsidian mirror. Romeo shrinks and looks away, not even wanting to look at it. Mary stretches out her hand and Julius takes the mirror. He looks at him from all sides and looks at the witch. - Don't look at it. Stare at him. - What will happen? – Shane asks. - I don't know. It depends on what the mirror wants to show Julius. It could be his past, the past before him, or one of the possible futures.

I found that the basics were still done to contain whatever my need was. I turned with a slight fear towards the mirror, fearing to find that man's silhouette on my back, but she wasn't there. What I found was a simple reflection of the necklace on my chest that made it appear like lightning in front of the mirror. All the power that apparently inhabited me was being contained in that necklace, whose pendant was now a magenta stone, and before touching my skin it was nothing but a hollow circle.

“I didn’t expect you to be the killer. It wasn’t enough that you killed your parents-in-law. Why did you have to kill my mother too?” I looked at the three of them. They all had the same reaction. I froze for a moment. How was that possible? A mirror was just a mirror. It showed whoever stood in front of it. How could it show my face no matter who looked into it? But their grief did not look fake. What was so strange about that mirror? How could it make my wife, my trainee, and my neighbor all believe I was the killer? “I didn’t kill your mother. It wasn’t me.”

She turned. At the far wall, half-buried in fallen stone, a mirror leaned—eight feet tall, gothic-arched, the frame a tangle of carved angels and demons locked in eternal collision. The glass was cracked, most of it intact. Burgundy veins marbled the surface like something old had dried there. “It’s beautiful,” she said, stepping closer despite herself. Her fingertips came away dark. Not paint. Blood. Michael brushed at the base. “Even with the crack, craftsmanship’s perfect. It looks sealed-yesterday fresh.”

I wasn't going to break now. "Let the high elders bring out the Lunar Mirror," I declared, stepping toward the center of the pit, where a large, circular slab of obsidian stone was embedded into the floor. Old elder Silas exchanged a grave, solemn look with the other council members before nodding. He gestured to two cloaked shamans who stood at the back of the chamber. The shamans stepped forward, carrying a massive, heavily carved silver frame holding a piece of polished, dark crystal—the Lunar Mirror, an ancient artifact used to measure the purity and strength of a wolf's spiritual core.