Novel & Cerita La Otra Mirada

Gone. I stood there, rooted in place, drenched and trembling, unable to breathe. I had seen a mirror, a living, breathing mirror, not just someone who looked like me. This was me, and she had seen me first. I couldn’t move. I felt frozen. The rain kept pouring, running into my eyes and trickling down my neck, but I remained still, staring at the boutique’s glowing door long after it had closed behind her. My breath came in shallow gasps, each one trembling as if the air itself had turned heavy. It wasn’t just shock. It felt deeper. Something primal. When her gaze locked with mine, a connection formed between us. I sensed that this was more than just a coincidence.

Then, I pressed both palms against the glass and whispered the activation words: “Aikan’zarr elst vele’.” The mirror flickered once… then rippled like liquid mercury before stabilizing. A scene came into view, a real-time image of one of the brothel rooms. Baevera Eldareth and her first client. They had already begun. Or, rather, he had. Baevera lay beneath him like a corpse. Heavy-lidded, desire-filled eyes watching him as he worked himself into a frenzy. The Moonmirror had no sound, but it did not need any. The image was clear enough.

When my senses slowly returned, I noticed a small stream of blood was trickling out of my ear. "You killed my mother!" she screamed raspily. "What did you say to her? Why was she overstimulated? The kidney transplant was a success! She could have lived a few more years. She hadn't even seen her grandchild yet!" A heartbroken Henry wiped Josephine's tears away. "Amnesia isn't a reason for you to kill Delilah. If you don't like me, then come at me. Why take it out on her?" I clutched my right ear, but the blood kept trickling through the cracks between my fingers. "I didn't say anything."

“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.”

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.”

"If you don't want me to say it, then don't proceed with the donation." "Alright," I answered. Jordan's expression soured. "Hazel, what the hell do you mean?" I smiled weakly. "I still want to behold the world with my eyes. Can't I do that?" Pursing his lips, Jordan stared at me with a gaze as deep as the abyss. "Say that again." "I don't want to give her my eyes." Without a moment of hesitation, Jordan slapped me harshly.

“You saw the way I healed myself. I can do the same to you if you promise me that" I fucked all the pain I was feeling and sat up from my bed. "Yes I saw that and that didn't appear natural to me at all” I looked him straight in the eyes." And I'll only let you heal me if you tell me what you are” I said and watched as his eyes softened. He parted his lips to speak."I am a hybrid Mirabel" he blurted out and my mouth dropped. How did I not notice? I was certain he was a Werewolf, but what was his other side?

I gripped the sides of the vanity, leaning in close until my breath fogged the glass. For a moment, all I saw was myself, wild black hair tangled around my shoulders, gold-flecked eyes wide with terror, lips trembling from words left unspoken. Then my vision flickered. I blinked rapidly, trying to clear the sudden haze that clouded my sight. But the fog didn’t disappear. Instead, the reflection staring back at me… changed. It was still me. But it wasn’t. “Mira…” I whispered. She tilted her head slightly, studying me with a gaze so sharp it felt like knives scraping across my skin. Her expression was familiar and foreign all at once, like a half-remembered dream morphing into a nightmare.

Some younger, some are older, some twisted beyond recognition. In one reflection, Kael’s eyes were black, veins crawling up his neck. In another, Lira’s face was streaked with blood, her dagger buried in his chest. Lira exhaled sharply. “What the hell…” “They’re possibilities,” Kael murmured. “Versions of what could’ve been.” As they passed the mirrors, the reflections began to move on their own. One Kael turned his head, staring directly at them, then smiled, wrong, too wide, the glass rippled.

Then, softly: “To understand.” --- In that moment, the resonance synchronized between La Paz and Quito. Elena gasped as her vision blurred—her mind flooded with flashes of unfamiliar places. She saw Sophia standing before the mirror, Raven beside her, Elise shouting something she couldn’t hear. And in the reflection—she saw herself. In La Paz, Sophia froze. “It’s projecting—someone’s image!” Elise stared. “That’s—Elena.” The mirror pulsed once more, and their two reflections overlapped entirely, forming one shimmering image that neither belonged wholly to Sophia nor Elena.