Miraculous Reflekta Novels & Stories

“That’s not how reflections work.” The figure tilted its head. Afnan’s breath caught. It hadn’t mirrored her movement. It had reacted. Independently. “No…” she whispered. The reflection took a step forward. Afnan instinctively stepped back again. The distance between them closed anyway. The air grew colder. “He said reflections weren’t copies…” Afnan murmured, her pulse pounding. The Keeper’s voice came calmly. “They are not.” The reflection’s eyes flickered. Silver, then red.

“You opened the gate.” Aria’s heart stuttered. “Who are you?” The reflection tilted her head. “I am what you refuse to see. I am every choice you regret, every darkness you buried.” Kael stepped forward, sword drawn. “You’re not real.” “Oh, I’m very real,” the reflection purred. “I am the part of her that survived every death. The piece Selene couldn’t destroy.” The mirror cracked, the sound slicing through the air. Light bled from the fracture lines like molten silver.

And I had no fucking idea how to reach them. Elara moved to the far wall and pulled out something wrapped in faded cloth. When she unwrapped it, I saw a mirror — warped at the edges, blackened in the corners. Old. Dangerous. “The Mirror of the Waking Realm.” she said, offering it like a spellbound curse. “It can show what a person believes is real. Not what is. Not what was. But what they believe now.” Sophia’s breath caught. “If she’s really rewritten their minds,” Elara went on, “then this might help us see what that looks like. But it comes with a cost.”

Ezra, choosing silence over words, listened intently, realizing she had no answers to the myriad of questions Scarlet presented. A sudden pause hung in the air, and Scarlet's gaze shifted from the plate to Ezra. "I am getting old," she confessed, her eyes distant. "I want you to come back and live with us. I don't want to hurt you, but you can't leave us like that." Scarlet's plea hung in the air, the vulnerability in her eyes revealing a loneliness that had settled in over the years.

My body ached, my feet blistered, but I didn’t lie down. I sat in the dark, staring out the window. Rain trickled down the glass, catching the faint orange glow of a streetlight outside. My reflection stared back at me—tired eyes, damp hair, and hollow cheeks. And behind that reflection, I saw hers. She had a perfect face. She assumed a confident stance. I pressed my palms flat against the table, my nails digging into the wood. Who was she? Why did she look exactly like me? And why did I feel like I had just witnessed something I shouldn’t have?

He understands what Reyan’s reflection meant. Not only Reyan is not from here, indicating his reflection not having a face, but also, Reyan is a mysterious being that can travel to the other worlds, thus his reflection having a deformed body. So, Hierro can deduce that this lake can reveal one’s real form (identity) through their reflection. Fortunately, though, for Hierro and Reyan, their reflections can only be seen by themselves. Thus, their real identities weren’t revealed to the others, or else they would definitely scare them, making them think that they might be monsters!

That very day we ordered our second Christmas miracle. END

He had the most comfortable feeling so far as he could remember in his entire life, and it was even accompanied by a sweet dream. All he knew was when he closed his eyes, and his lids covered over the surface of his eyes, darkness welcome, and in an instant, a light suddenly shone through, eating away the darkness that previously covered his eyes. The white light then transitioned quickly, and he found his vision covered with a dream-like scene. It was like the sky was split into two, and he was standing on the other part. It reminded him of the Uyuni Salt Flats in Bolivia when he went to the country for a business trip, one of the scenes that he personally considered as the most magical and

A single word, flickering through every console, every satellite, every piece of Mira’s forgotten design: > ASTRA.ROOT

In the center stood an obsidian pedestal—and atop it, a shard of polished stone that gleamed like glass and flame. The Mirror Stone. Veyra stepped toward it. The air shimmered. And suddenly, her reflection in the stone moved on its own—smiling at her. Not her. Him. Nyros. You can't run from me, Veyra." His voice came from the reflection, though no sound stirred the room. Her heart clenched. Lioren reached for her hand, grounding her. "You're not real," she hissed at the image. "You're a parasite."