Mirror Poetry Novels & Stories

The walls began to shift from moonlit white to deep sapphire, etched with strange constellations that seemed to rearrange themselves when I wasn’t looking. Eventually, we reached a chamber shaped like a dome. It was silent. Not just quiet—truly silent. No birdsong. No wind. Even my breath felt muffled. At the center stood a tall, mirror-like structure, glowing faintly, its surface rippling like disturbed water. It was framed in bone-white stone that pulsed like it had a heartbeat. “What is this place?” I whispered. “The Mirror of Moons,” Seraphina said. “It doesn’t reflect what you see—it reflects what you hide.”

Doorframes murmured secrets behind their hinges, their voices slow, churning things that sounded far too much like prayer and far too much like madness. Every reflective surface in this place had turned traitor. Shattered mirrors screamed in echo. Puddles shimmered with impossible images - versions of themselves that had made different choices. Evangeline caught a glimpse of her own face, but older, colder, with silver threading her hair and blood streaking her mouth. She blinked and it was gone, swallowed back into the liquid shimmer. And then came the wolves.

“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.”

Suddenly, the mirror fogged—on the glass, words began to burn in reverse from within the reflection itself. Glowing Words: “BEWARE THE BLOOD YOU HIDE.” Ceres gasped. The mirror cracked.

Attached was a photo of Vivian sprawled over a treadmill, panting like a woman lost in ecstasy. "Useless old fart, do you think you could ever make Vivian look like this?" I hit "send".

I say, believing that I have finally worked out the gate's trap. "What do you mean by that, dear?" Lior asks in a curious tone. "The gate appears to work like a mirror, reflecting what is in front of it. In this case, it is the land we are standing on," I explain. "True. The gap between the poles works like a mirror. But how do we get in, honey?" King Tiras asks. "You cannot get into a mirror by approaching it," I tell. "However, your reflection disappears into it when you're walking away. I think that if we can make it look like we are walking away, the gate will let us into the other side," I tell.

The house seemed to hold its breath as she moved through the room, her footsteps muffled against the old floorboards. The mirror stood at the center, its frame dark and ornate, gleaming in the dim light. She had seen this mirror before, had felt its presence in her dreams, in the whispers of the house. This mirror was not just a reflection; it was a doorway. A doorway to the past, to the lives that had been lived in this house, to the women who had been trapped in its walls.

They walked on. The Mirror Fields were vast. This meant that it took nearly two hours before they saw the first sign of life: a mirror that is representing an individual object in the middle of the field. Its frame was draped with vines that ate into the wall yet the glass portion was pristine, almost excessive. It caught the group as they were in movement but not really as they were; each reflection was not static but changed and revealed other versions of the group. A younger Serakha. A bloodied Lucian. A man in Arden laughing with strangers. They stopped, staring.

Even with my firelight at his back, there’s no reflection in the mirror when he stands in front of it. Curiosity breaks me out of my stupor. I step closer to the mirror, noticing how the glass shifts and shimmers. “The same type of magic that turns your paintings into portals created this mirror,” he says, his voice echoing. “The same magic in my sword. Magic we share.” He turns toward me, and his mouth softens into a smile. “Do you want to see how it works?” “How what works?” That smile turns to smirk. “You accused me of stalking you, Princess. Now it’s your turn.”

"Fine, I'll tell you. Yaran, the lightbearer who first conjured the twin moons hid the mirror of mirrors in the Night Court. It is hidden in the lake. But, I want you to reconsider your decision. Using the mirror of mirrors is dangerous" "We just can't let the enemy win" Theo said with a pensive look on his handsome face. "Isn't there a way we can use the mirror of mirrors without endangering our souls?" I asked. "Yes, there is. But the solution is almost impossible" Ivagon said. "What is it?" Ivagon started to fade away."The person who uses the mirror of mirrors must have an anchor to his or her soul. If the anchor is not strong enough, the two souls will be trapped in the mirror of mirrors