Mirror Lapis Novels & Stories

"I am a prince of this kingdom. Where is the mirror?" The man blinks slowly, his milky eyes tracking my movement. He points a long, dirt-caked finger toward a warped silver plate hanging near the door. I step toward it. My feet feel light, lacking the heavy thud of my usual stride. I look into the polished metal. My stomach drops into my throat. The reflection staring back is a boy. Six years old, at most. Dark hair curls wildly around a round, chubby face. The golden eyes of my Lycan are there, but they are wide, childish, and ridiculous.

Drawn to it, she walked closer until the light expanded into a wide circular chamber. At its center stood a mirror. Not made of glass, but liquid metal, swirling and alive. Symbols ringed its base, identical to those in the earlier platform. Elara hesitated. “This is the final trial?” The surface of the mirror rippled. Her reflection appeared, but something was different. Her eyes glowed brighter than before, silver streaked with molten gold. Faint markings curled along her arms, like scales formed from light. The air around her reflection shimmered with heat.

“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.”

Those who were cursing me moments ago were now holding their breath. Every single eye turned to Tania, who was shaking like a leaf. "No... it's not like that..." Tania shook her head frantically, her voice shrill. "It's a lie! It's a trap Evelyn set up!" But no one bought it. The Blood Mirror was an artifact of the First Vampires. It never lied. Valerius rose to his feet. Hellfire blazed in his eyes. The crushing aura of a Lord suffocated the room.

"Not your grandmother. Not Vandaulf. Not the nurses. Just me." "You don't get to hold me for ransom because you arrived first," Lily snarled. The mirror shook. The light bulb overhead hummed, making a crackling noise like static. Vandaulf planted his hands on her shoulders. "You're not alone this time. Say it. Tell her you don't belong to her." "I am not yours," Lily whispered. "Loudenough," Vandaulf urged. "I am not yours!" The reflection screamed. And the mirror exploded.

Then, faintly, a crack spread across its reflection. --- Back in La Paz, Elise’s readings spiked. “Sophia—it’s working. The mirror’s frequency is destabilizing. It’s fracturing.” Sophia exhaled shakily, bracing herself against the console. “Hold it steady.” The chamber lights flickered, dimmed, then steadied again. For a long moment, only the Pulse filled the air—low, tender, unbreakable. When it finally faded, the screens showed silence. The mirror’s signal was gone.

This is what the curse has made of Luna, Queen, mother of three, beloved of Kai. I should have shattered it the moment I saw it. I should have called for my guards, ordered them to burn this obvious trap until nothing remained but ash and twisted metal. Instead, I find myself stepping closer, drawn by some invisible thread, as though the mirror itself breathes and calls my name with every exhalation. And then it does breathe. The glass ripples like water disturbed by a stone, its surface becoming fluid and alive. My reflection wavers, distorts, becomes something else entirely no, not something else. Someone else. I see her clearly now: Luna before the

I did a good job, too, because it lay hidden there until my sophomore year when one phone call stripped those masks away, laying bare the Truth so I could see myself for what I was. *** As maybe you can imagine I avoid mirrors as much as possible. Can’t be managed all the time, obviously. I do have to shave, comb my hair and brush my teeth occasionally. There’s also the rear-view mirror in my cab, too. That’s somehow the worst. It focuses on my eyes. Everyone’s heard it by now. It’s used in countless stories, poems and movies when someone wants to sound insightful. Eyes are the windows to the soul. Cliché, but remarkably apt. I hate looking into my eyes. They’re dead and flat, which spooks m

What replaced them was a cold, precise three-dimensional map of the orbital band above the continent. Lunar Mirror sat in high reflective orbit, a hard geometric signature against the black, its directed-energy arrays still in pre-firing calibration relative to the compressed Priority Apex coordinates. The schedules had listed its original window; the overlay showed the mirror already receiving updated lethal-priority tasking that no longer waited for the full original countdown.

“But if it’s darkness, bring your light. If it’s pain, bring your truth. And if it tries to take something from you...” He leaned in and kissed me softly. “Remember you’re already everything.” Lunaryn growled in my mind, soft and steady. “Let’s show this fucking mirror who we are.” I nodded. Wiped my eyes. And stood. “I’m ready,” I said. And I meant it. Ten minutes later.... The room was quiet. Too quiet. I stood in front of the floor length mirror, it was easily eight feet tall, framed in carved obsidian, pulsing with soft light like it had a heartbeat, and I swore I could feel it watching me.