Smoke And Mirrors Novels & Stories

“Then we remind them: louder is not warmer. Fire whispers before it roars.” --- Back in La Paz, Raven’s device trembled in his hands as he traced the interference patterns. “It’s everywhere. The mirror isn’t bound to one city—it’s spreading through the lattice itself. They’ve piggybacked Horizon’s pulse, reflecting it back at the chorus.” Elise’s face was pale, fingers trembling on the loom. “They’ve learned to twist memory. This isn’t just noise. It’s mimicry.” Sophia stood motionless for a long moment, watching the threads of light ripple across the Monument. She could feel it too—the double beat, the faint echo shadowing every genuine pulse. Horizon itself seemed haunted by its own reflec

Whether he was a genuine ally or simply using me as a pawn in a power struggle did not matter yet; he had offered me a thread, and I was desperate enough to pull it. ​I folded the paper into a tight strip and thrust it into the burning coals of the fireplace, watching it turn to ash in seconds. ​I turned toward the far wall of the room. The grand silver-framed mirror stood nearly seven feet tall, its polished glass reflecting the flickering firelight and my own pale, determined face. ​I walked over to the mirror, placing my hands on the heavy mahogany frame. It was surprisingly heavy, secured to the stone wall by iron brackets. I leaned around the right edge, peering into the dark gap betwee

I reached out and pressed the radio button on the steering wheel. My voice was cold, cutting through the static. "Mason Vale, do you see a ghost in your mirror?" I said coldly into the radio. Those words pierced straight through Mason's last line of composure. His car hesitated for an obvious instant on the straight. Now. I smashed the throttle down. The car tore through the air and pulled alongside him. Ahead was a chain of fast S-curves. Seeing that I was about to pass, a vicious look flashed through Mason's eyes.

Trish said. Scott dragged a breath. “We saw one.” “You saw a mouthpiece,” Larkam said. “Big teeth, small mind. What lives behind the glass is worse because it doesn’t have to be anything. It just has to reflect what hurts.” Faith’s gaze flicked to the salt ring. “What’s the plan?” Trish nodded to the circle. “Salt binds. Chalk remembers. Brass throws the image back. Fire closes. We sever the line between mirrors, room by room, until the big one is alone.”

Then I pulled. The heavy fabric fell away in one sweeping motion. Dust exploded through the air. And the mirror— Awakened. I staggered back instinctively. The glass was not normal. Not reflective in any ordinary sense. At first, I saw only myself. Pale. Wide-eyed. Crowned. Frightened. But then— Silver fumes began moving beneath the surface. My blood ran cold. Not on the mirror. Inside it. Like smoke trapped beneath water. Swirling. Curling.

Like a predator that didn’t need to hurry. My lungs felt too small. My heart felt too loud. I swallowed, forcing myself to breathe evenly. The man’s voice had still been in my ear: “Decide. Be invisible. Or be necessary.” I squeezed the mirror device in my palm so tightly it hurt. It was cold and light and wrong, like it didn’t belong in my hand. But I knew what it was. A single-use reflection. A way to transfer my biometric imprint to somewhere else. A way to make me disappear.

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

“No. To whom? And how?” “I have my ways. May I?” “I won’t bother you.” And she stepped aside. Nobles. I had already taken notice of a mirror on the table. It was small, but clearly a proper one, from the old times. Such mirrors were cast using ash, making them susceptible to a necromancer’s will. They could show whatever the necromancer wanted and obeyed their commands. But that was long ago. Over the last century, such craftsmen had become extinct, even if Rene had told me a bit about them.

Inside, the tower was a labyrinth of corridors and chambers, each filled with ancient artifacts and arcane symbols. In one chamber, we found a large, ornate mirror framed in gold. Its surface shimmered with a strange, otherworldly light. As we approached, the mirror began to show visions—snapshots of possible futures, some dark and ominous, others filled with hope and triumph. We realized that the mirror was showing us potential outcomes of our quest, depending on the choices we made and the paths we took. It was both a guide and a test, forcing us to confront the consequences of our actions.

There are still a good few minutes for the Moon to reach its apex so I prepare for everything until then. Just when I am about to burn the sage and use the smoke, I feel the power calling to me finally. But not the bright light but like a dark smoke. I close my eyes and I see mirrors everywhere. Mirrors in the dark smoke. The black smoke is so thick that it makes someone think they are in the darkness itself.