Mirror Poems Novels & Stories

The cave was dark, and the sound of trickling water echoed from within. "We're going in," Siron said. They turned on their flashlights and entered one by one. The cave was narrow at first, then widened into a large chamber with a ceiling of stalactites. In the center of the room stood a large mirror with an old silver frame, perched atop a stone pedestal. The mirror didn't reflect them, but showed shifting images, beautiful landscapes, faces of loved ones, treasures. "The Mirror of Desires," Stefan whispered. Siron drew near. In the mirror, he saw a vision of another self, becoming a respected leader, with Morat and Lyra in full physical form beside him, and Kit...

I answered quickly as he sat down with the mirror in his hand, I moved closer immediately closing their little space between as I watched him caress the frame of the mirror "Is that part of the process of making it work?" I asked excitedly moving closer even when I was literally touching his bare skin. "No, it's not," he chuckled there’s no process, I’m just admiring its beauty," he added looking down at me and I lifted my head up feeling his gaze on me but couldn't look for long because I was too close to him to the point where his lips were just in my face when I looked over my shoulder to see him "the mirror has the power to show the past and the present perfectly. It is called the mirror

The lights flicked back on, momentarily stunning me with their brightness. I swept my eyes to Orion’s, expecting him to continue when something across the room captured my attention. There were mirrors along the walls. Hundreds of them, all wrapped in golden frames that caught the brunt of the twinkling light. Each one was the same size and shape—similar to that of a door. I suppose I should’ve been surprised when one started shimmering, the glass rippling as though it were water disturbed by an errant stone. With a snarl, Orion pushed me behind him. I peered around him, through the plumes of flame that engulfed his body, in time to see two forms emerged from a single mirror.

QWEN I bet the mirror knows me better than anyone do. It always gave me the response I desired so much each time I stare into it. It displays me to me, and what exactly is the me she displays to me? An epitome of evil; hate and malice. Those are what the mirror in my massive room says of me each time I stand before it with my brazing red lipstick. Of course, I’m evil and it gives me pleasure.

We exchanged a glance, a silent agreement that we were ready to face whatever awaited us. As we advanced further into the chamber, the environment shifted, morphing into a labyrinth of mirrors. Each reflection held a distorted image of ourselves as if mocking our journey and challenging our perception of reality. "Stay focused," I reminded myself, my voice steady despite the disorienting surroundings. "These mirrors are illusions meant to deceive us. We must trust our instincts and look beyond the reflections."

Hans, wanting to ensure he received his share of the credit, stepped forward and said, "I have a treasure that can record images of this place as evidence." "Thank you so much, Hans," several immortals responded. Hans fished out a mirror and began recording the surroundings. However, what everyone saw left them stunned. The images captured by the mirror were completely different from what everyone else saw. In fact, they were two entirely different scenes. If an outsider viewed them, they would likely believe they were pictures of two completely different locations.

The forest path grew narrow as Anastasia followed the trail Matif had etched into her memory twisting through ferns and weeping willows until the trees parted into a clearing blanketed in eerie stillness. A crescent-shaped basin of water shimmered at the center, still as glass, rimmed with blue petals and glowing moss. The Mirror Pool. It was older than the kingdom itself spoken of in whispers, used only by those whose fates balanced on the edge of life and ruin.

Her eyes seemed to bore into her own reflection as she spoke, "Do you think he is on to us?" The mirror seemed to ripple, like the surface of a pond, and then Mrs. Iyama's reflection responded, its voice low and menacing. "That fool didn't suspect a thing." But it was clear that this was not Mrs. Iyama speaking; her reflection had taken on a life of its own, revealing a dark, demonic presence lurking beneath the surface.

“You have to tell me why you asked me on a date in the first place.” “Ahh, that deal.” She hummed in response, her palms caressing his chest in soft circular motions. His thumb traced the side of her face. “Do you know why I call you Mirage?” She shook her head. She had always been curious but never had the right occasion to bring up the question. “Do you know what the word means?” “It’s an illusion. Caused by the refraction of light rays. It makes distant objects appear as water or as a mirror.”

“Remember this: the mirror shows what is true. It shows what it wants. When you seek, be simple. One question. One answer. No bargains. No lies.” A watcher named Jorin put his palm to the black glass and whispered the name of a lost child he wanted to find. The mirror breathed and showed a small face, sleeping under a rock. Jorin’s eyes filled and he stepped away. “Good,” I said. “We will use the mirror to map. Not to bargain. Not to hunt power. It is a tool.” Night came and the castle lit with low fires. I walked the battlements and listened to the patrols. I felt the kingdom move. It was like an animal shifting in sleep. Small muscles tightened. It would wake with speed.