[House of Broken Mirrors] Do Not Enter. (Naia)

[Aislyn Leavold]

69th of Fall, 514

Do Not Enter.
The words were plastered up on the door, each letter like a little eye staring down at Aislyn, who was indecisively standing outside.
Do Not Enter.
It seemed like the sign was mocking her. Judging her for her circumstances.
The sign might have said ‘Don’t Enter’, but in the predicament that Aislyn found herself in at that moment, she could have cared less. It was the crossed out part that worried her. That’s how you knew something was truly dangerous- when someone tempered with the warning signs to entice a victim in.

The only problem was that Aislyn didn’t need very much enticing.

It was pouring down with rain, pounding down in sheets of ice cold water that reminded Aislyn of knife blades, slicing against her exposed face. She was freezing, and this house was the only one on the street. She knew she couldn’t walk much longer in the downpour, so she’d hoped to take shelter within it. Unfortunately, it seemed she might have been escaping one danger, into another.

She’d been standing outside the house for a good few chimes now, staring up at the warning sign, then back out at the storm. It seemed as if she was trapped between a rock and a hard place. Then again, the woman wouldn’t know how hard said place would be until she crashed right into it.
So, the woman took a leap of faith.
Or, rather, a step inside.

The door creaked rather loudly, and, even with the loud thunder booming outside, she could hear the sound echo throughout the building. How big was the place? It hadn’t seemed that large from the outside, but if it was big enough to echo…
Well, looks could be deceiving. Especially in this city.

Once inside, Aislyn took the liberty of a long look around. She appeared to be in some sort of hallway, lit only by small candles attached to the walls. Strange. Who kept them lit? The place seemed deserted, yet at the same time, fully inhabited.
The weirdest thing of all, however, were the mirrors.

Mirrors, everywhere. On the walls, all shapes and sizes. In some places, the wall was simply made up of mirror, yet in other, it was covered in a collage of different sorts. Old ones, new ones, some covered in a thick layer of dust, others crystal clear. Whoever tended for the place sure did have a fascination for the objects. And in each one of them, Aislyn’s reflection stood, or rather, ‘Maya’ stood, gaping at everything around her. Still, something continued to be off. Something in the mirror, perhaps?
Just as she leaned forwards to take a closer look, Aislyn heard the sharp slamming sound of the door behind her. Startled, she span around to face where the entrance had been, to no avail. If she’d spun around to see the doorway, she might as well have kept spinning, for the doorway was no longer there. Instead, a large, framed mirror stood, trapping Aislyn inside.
What had she just walked into?

Frantically, Aislyn pushed her palms against the glass, hoping to find that the door was merely mirror on one side. A trick of the light, maybe? Her actions became more rushed as the woman realized that the doorway had really, truly disappeared. Simply disappeared! Looking around, the woman found no hint of any other exit. Her breathing hitched. She was trapped in a hallway, with nothing but mirrors for company. Aislyn had never thought of herself as claustrophobic, but at that moment, it seemed like a very real possibility. Fear scratched at her mind, but she pushed it back.

If she was going to get out of there alive, she needed to keep a level head. Especially when there was no one around to hear her.
Her safety from the storm didn’t seem so safe after all.

[Naia Whitewater]

Speech | 69th Autumn, 514 AV | Thoughts

It was with the full force of Zulrav's wrath that the so called City of Illusions was pelted with. The wind whipped Naia's wayward hair and the icy rain cut to her bones, the chill of the breeze slicing through her as though she were as thin as paper. A shudder and a sigh soon followed, the Svefra's gaze darting left, right, and center as she sought refuge from the majesty of the storm - the tugging of her gnosis beckoning her closer to the ocean, and further down the dimly lit paved road.

"This darned turned around city," she muttered, pulling her sodden clothes closer as she kept beneath the skirts and overhang of buildings, fingers beginning to numb and swell as the time she'd spent exposed to the weather reached a number of chimes that was obviously far too great. "Would be a Hai of a lot more impressive if Laviku did not keep me centered," her words were to both everyone and no one, a prayer and a damnation.

Naia's appreciation for magic and illusion was something far higher than what she could say for her brothers and sisters- but that meant not that she had a love for discovering the weird and wonderful when sore and tired and hungry. Her determination wavered, and she all at once lost her energy. She'd been following the pull of the ocean for a near half bell- but the city must have been laid in rows against the sea, she thought, for there was no way she'd ventured so far inland- nor past districts so dense in business and abandoned homes.

She slipped on the hard rock and hit the ground with a heavy thud, a moment needed to collect herself as thunder and lightning went off like canons in the sky.

She prayed to Laviku for the safety of her pod. She prayed they find safe harbour and that the Siren's Song would see Syna's light once more. She prayed to Zulrav for clarity. She prayed for the winds to relent and a safe journey home. She prayed that something good would come of hardship.

She pulled her mind into sense and coherent thought, and picked herself up in time enough to catch glimpse of a figure in the distance enter a building, her stomach lurching. Surely her prayers could not be answered so quick? She set her gaze hard and fast on the house ahead, breath quickening as her body slowly worked away the numbness in her limbs, the sweetness of the sea air near tempted her away from the house to draw closer to the sea, and away from the refuge some dozen meters ahead.

Ahead, she watched the door slam closed as another bout of thunder went off above, the lighting that shot like fireworks giving face and character to the home she was fast approaching, and her gaze hit lettering that beckoned her entry, shooting off only a mere two times as she took note of the make of the stone and the disturbing lack of windows. A few short ticks later and she stood at the threshold - gaze glued to the warning as shivers split her spine.

'I need to get warm. I need to get dry. No horror I face will ever compare to that which lives and breathes in Nyka.'

A deep breath was taken, and the heavy door before her was pushed open, a sudden surge of comparatively warm air hitting her - beckoning her in - the soft glow of candlelight and the sound of something far closer to human than anything that walked the streets of Nyka struck her ears. It was almost as though she was sucked into the room, a gust of air from behind pushing the Svefra off balance, the door closing hard and fast behind her.

It was more of a whimper than a whisper that next left her.

Before her was not any creature or beast, no monster or thing of nightmares. It was herself. Wasn't it? Naia stood shock still, and tilted her head to the left, and watched as her reflection did the same. She stood tall and so did it, she rolled her shoulders and made expression- each and every action reflected by her mirror image.

But it wasn't her, not exacty.

Her skin was different. It shimmered gold and silvers with streaks of red. Her skin rippled and shifted and changed, her lips were the colour of a man who'd drowned. Her hair and clothing those that she once wore as a child of Nyka, when she worked in the Hall of Robes and when her life was books and writing. She blinked thrice and looked away, yet another mirror with the same Gods forsaken image stared down at her.

"Petching Hai," she hissed, turning further as she reached for where the door ought to be, instead her hand hitting the icy surface of another mirror, cracks of black and red spidering out from her point of contact, and she dared not make eye contact with her own reflection.

She kept her gaze low as she took two steps back, keeping her breathing as slow and careful as she could manage as she looked for her point of entry, avoiding any and all contact with the image of herself as she could imagine.

"Hello?" She shouted, glaring at her own image as she watched her mouth move. "Is there anyone here?" She didn't even know if she wanted to be found - not when her reflection was had such a ridiculous array of colour.

'Is it just chance that such a look has taken to the reflection- or is this the City living well up to its reputation?' Her gaze dropped to her arm, and any exposed skin she could see, the obvious lack of colour releasing a breath she hadn't realised she was holding.

No, no. She still looked very much Svefra. There were other things at play, it seemed.

[Aislyn Leavold]

Well, she wasn't dead yet.
But Aislyn was sure as Hai she wasn't alone. And she definitely wasn't safe. The mirrors gave her a strange feeling. Who in their right mind would- and could- collect so many? And in each one of them, a reflection of Maya. Blue eyes, blonde hair, repeated over and over, into infinity.
Or, at least, that was what was happening in most of them. In some, Aislyn saw nothing at all.

Stopping at one of said mirrors, Aislyn tapped a finger on the glass. It was definitely a real mirror, but still... No reflection.
Curious, the woman looked around for another misplaced reflection. Maya, Maya, Maya... there. Nothing. The glass was empty. Yet something even greater seemed to be off. Something Aislyn couldn’t quite place…

The woman repeated her actions from before, stepping closer to the aged decoration, then tapping lightly on the glass. Still real, and still, no reflection. Was there something wrong with the mirrors?
Or was there something wrong with her?

Turning back to the hallway, Aislyn let out a sharp gasp- though she was sure it sounded more like a hiss. Something had changed. Something itched at the back of the illusionist’s mind, annoying her to the point of anxiety. Something had changed. What was it?

The realization came like a punch to the face.
Her reflection was gone. Not just from the mirrors she’d labeled as ‘broken’, but from every mirror. All the Maya’s she’d seen just moments before- gone.
She sped up her pace, but even as the footsteps echoed, she felt like she wasn’t moving. There was no movement in the mirrors to validate her actions, and the hallway just seemed to continue on forever. She couldn’t have been moving- could she?

The clicking of her boots on the floor of the expansive hallway became the only companion to Aislyn’s fears. She’d walked into some sort of trap, hadn’t she? The sign on the door; ‘Do Not Enter’. She’d been right to be suspicious. She should have never walked in that door… Should have stayed outside, weathered the storm… Should have… Should have...

”Hello?”

Somewhere, a voice echoed, the sound bouncing infinitely off the glass of the mirror’s surface. A woman’s voice, if Aislyn could only guess. Somewhere, also trapped inside the maze of glass, was someone else. Yet it seemed like the hallway went on forever. How could Aislyn hear her, if she couldn’t even see the end of the hall?
Something more must have been magnifying the sound, or at least projecting it where she could hear. The illusionist would have put her money on Ionu, but something about the way the house was being manipulated made her second-guess. The deity was one for tricks, was he not? Being in charge of illusions and all that- But if the house was nothing but a well-meaning trick, why did it seem so sinister? So… Wrong?
The idea was on the tip of her tongue, yet something turned her off of the idea. What was she missing?

Quickening her pace, Aislyn tried to mimic the stranger’s calls, yet they came out strangled, like the sound had been throttled to the point of echoing about as nothing more than a hiss. There was no way anyone would be able to hear that. She tried calling louder, then louder, yet every sound came out at the same, fizzing volume. Eventually, she stopped trying. Whoever it was must have been long gone by then.

In the back of her mind, the woman felt something shift once again. the hallway must have changed. Shuffled, adding something, or taking something away. Something made her blood run cold, and her feet refuse to move. Yet, after at least a chime of waiting, she couldn’t figure out what it was. It was only when she took another step did she realize-- Her footsteps were gone. The echos that had become a comfort to the woman had disappeared, along with any other sound the woman made. The silence came as a shock to her, even after everything else that happened. She’d thought the echoing had been strange- Silence was even worse.

But still, she continued on, now walking in silence, her reflection missing from every mirror she passed. Yet the woman still felt herself being watched. Like something was lurking, in the corner of her eye. In the one place she just couldn’t catch a glimpse of. A shadow, or something like it. Aislyn felt herself shiver.

After what felt like bells of walking, the woman finally sat down, exhausted, both mentally and physically. Crouched in a corner, she allowed herself to think.
This couldn’t have been one of Ionu’s tricks, could it? She’d doubted the entertainment within the Garden of No Return, but even that had food and drink within it to keep it’s victims alive. This… This was something else. It seemed like the house was built on one thing, and one thing alone. Fear.
But that wasn’t what Ionu was about, was it?

A flash of movement in the corner of her eye caught the woman’s attention. One of the mirrors had regained a reflection. Though who it was, Aislyn wasn’t sure. Another trick, probably, but she hadn’t got anything else to do. So, of course, she bit into the bait, pulling herself off the ground and approaching the glass to get a closer look. She had seen something, she was sure of it. Yet, as she crept closer, the only thing she found her eyes laying upon was a heaping pile of nothing.
The glass was empty.

Then, suddenly, it was not.
Aislyn jumped backwards, falling back onto her hands as her heart immediately began speeding up. A dark figure had appeared in the glass, it’s features twisted into an unrecognizable mess. It took the woman several seconds to realize that the mangled shape in the mirror resembled none other than herself. Except it couldn’t have been her reflection, because, at that moment, Aislyn looked like Maya, and she definitely didn’t have the crooked smile that the figure in the mirror had donned. The reflection was an illusion, and one that could mimic what no normal person should have been able to see.

After several seconds of staring up into the frozen eyes of the dark figure, Aislyn gained the courage to get to her feet once again. The figure in the mirror stood still.
It hadn’t moved since it’s sudden appearance that had shocked Aislyn into her untimely fall. It was trapped in the mirror, it’s eyes unmoving, it’s mouth still plastered in it’s unnerving grin. Slowly, the woman forced herself to turn away and continue moving.
Immediately, she regretted her decision.
The second she took her eyes off the figure, it appeared in every mirror, in every direction. An endless hallway of the laughing eyes and taunting grin. Now she was afraid. Something was definitely wrong there, and it didn’t feel like Ionu.

[Naia Whitewater]

Speech | 69th Autumn, 514 AV | Thoughts | NoteSorry for the wait! Exams and stress have set me back on replies -_- Hope its worth the wait!

No Response.

She wasn't sure at the time if she'd wanted one in the first place - but now she had little idea whatsoever. To be completely alone is such a twisted place, or to be with someone - or something - she didn't know which was more terrifying.

'This isn't Nyka. This will never be as bad as Nyka.'

She inhaled deeply, and then let the air rush from her lung. Again. Again. Again.

She bade her beating heart to slow as her vision was swallowed by a looming darkness- a path through the mirror she could have sworn was not prior present, a chilling draft reminding her of her wet clothes as her skin prickled and the cool nearly burned. "Hello?" She repeated, this time her voice far more stern, louder with a creeping of authority. She wouldn't let this place sway her. The shadows that lurked had nothing on what manner of monster she saw in Nyka- those wretched things that she was all but certain took the lives of several she held dear.

Because that damn city was alive.

Oh, how it writhed and quaked and took breath.

She'd die before she'd return to the god forsaken 'heart of the world.' She'd never trust it once more after it played into her pocket then scorched and charred and burned all that she loved. A crunch sounded to the left, and her head snapped to a mirror, and in it she saw an image of herself she'd hoped to never see - her own hair scorched and skin of charcoal, blue eyes staring through burnt flesh.

Her words caught in her throat, and her fist took a sharp shot at the sight before thought could take hold. Fractures of black shot out from her point of contact, though it was only the weakest of thuds that shot through, and the Svefra retrieved a hand that was sore but not bloody, and a curse left her lips as her reflection returned to normal, or rather, as normal as it had even been since she'd entered the forsaken place.

"Is there anyone here?" It was more of a plea as she ventured into what she saw as near nothing, her arms outstretched as though she were embracing the abyss, flinching as her and glided along the icy glass of a mirror to her right. More crunches and shattering came from underfoot, and she thought not to entertain a second thought as to what they may be as she worked towards a dim light - with little fruit born.

She couldn't help but akin it to bone - to shatters and fragments and pieces of rubble. She'd never forget the day she wove through the wreckage of her grandmother's home. All the paintings burnt and the foul smell of cooked flesh.

Naia swore she heard a scattering, something kicked or scrambling, and instead of allowing herself to stall she pushed herself further and harder, breath becoming more shallow as she worked her mind and body. 'Laviku, guide me the Hai out of here.'

[Aislyn Leavold]

Fear was not an emotion Aislyn experienced often. Anxiety, deathly nervous, perhaps. But real, true fear? No. Especially not towards something of Ionu’s creation. She’d never felt fear towards something created by her favoured deity. Especially of this magnitude. Her heart had been pounding ever since the dark figure had appeared suddenly in the glass. It still hadn’t stopped, and, of course, the dark figure still hadn’t disappeared. Nor had it shifted, from it’s demented posture, standing as if held up by strings. A marionette doll, cracked and broken. Left to die from disrepair.
Aislyn shivered.

All she really wanted at that moment was to find a way out of the hellhole she’d somehow found herself inside. She’d been in it for less than fifteen chimes, yet already it felt like bells. How much longer until she found the exit? Or, if the gods would have it, another human soul?
Then again, she couldn’t bank on said soul being human. For all she knew, she could be escaping the danger of the mirrors, and walking right back into the danger of some mortal monster, instead. Not the best idea.

Stopping once again as her feet began to tire, Aislyn pondered the idea of simply staying trapped in the mirror maze forever. It was a possibility, was it not? The woman had known of some more… fatal traps within the city, but she never thought she’d end up walking into one. Especially not one like this.
Even if she did end up trapped in the maze forever, who would there be to mourn her? She didn’t exactly have many friends, or, on that note, family. Maybe Kuvarakh would notice her missing, maybe even Ruzekiel. Her mother, however? Most likely not. Aislyn had gone missing before, and each time, her mother had been increasingly less worried about her extended absence. The woman probably wouldn’t even notice.

A sudden sound from her side brought Aislyn’s attention back from the sobering thoughts. Like the cracking of glass. Had one of the mirrors broken? She wouldn’t have been surprised. With all the strange things happening, she wouldn’t exactly be surprised by some shattered glass.
What she was surprised by, however, was where the sound had come from. Not a broken mirror, nor a pile of glass on the floor was what the woman saw. No, what she really saw was much, much worse.

The dark, shadowy figure in the mirror had moved. Shifted. Shaped itself, as if made of clay. The face of the shadow Aislyn still wore the crooked smile it always had, but now, the figure refused to remain still. It mimicked the woman’s actions now, the arm movements as she violently pulled herself away from the mirror. Even the terrified yelp of surprise was mimicked with the shadow’s own gargle- except the shadow had a voice like that of broken glass. Scraping, grating on the ear.
The sound unnerved her.

Every sound she made, every footstep, was mimicked in the room, like a mirror that, instead of reflecting vision, reflected audio. Horrible, crunchy, distorted audio.

After several chimes of this, Aislyn felt as if she’d gone insane if she spent much more time in the hall of mirrors. So far, she’d prayed to every god and goddess she knew of to let her escape, all to no avail. Nothing had worked. Retracing her steps, increasing her pace… Even an attempt to break the mirrors had failed. The woman swore, the shadow figure in the glass had laughed at her as she drove her foot into the pane. Not even a single crack. The mirrors definitely were not normal.

It was only once Lyn felt her sanity begin to fray, however, did the woman finally sense something change. Something in the air… In the mirror.
One of the mirrors, a large, somewhat new piece, was missing her reflection. Nothing special, but after several ticks of watching the empty glass, just as she was about to turn away, a figure came into view of the mirror. Not Aislyn. The woman- whoever she was- couldn’t have been Aislyn, nor a demonic reflection of her, or any of her illusions. No, the woman seemed… Normal. So much so that Aislyn felt more fear than she would have, had she seen some other shadow reflection in the mirror.

The woman, who appeared to be around the same age as Aislyn, along with looking just as frightened as the illusionist felt, was carefully treading about a hallway identical to the one Aislyn found herself endlessly roaming down. If the woman hadn’t reached out towards the stranger, she would have guessed that the ‘mirror’ was really a doorway.
Unfortunately, Aislyn’s hand collided with nothing but cool glass.

Pressing her palm against the mirror, Aislyn tried to push her way into the other hallway. That woman might be her only ticket out of the hell she’d found herself in. And Aislyn was not letting her get away. She began pounding on the glass, as if trapped in the mirror, attempting to escape to the other side. Yelling. Praying that the woman would hear her. Alas, crunching glass overwhelmed her voice, the sound of her reflection drowning out her own.
Several ticks passed with no response from the woman. Eventually, her voice shrunk to a whisper.
”Hello?” Her voice hitched, hopelessness overwhelming her voice. ”Please, if you can hear me…”

[Naia Whitewater]

Speech | 69th Autumn, 514 AV | Thoughts

 
Crunch. Crunch. Crunch.
 
Nothing.
 
As darkness turned to twisted paths and forks and splits, before enveloping her again into a seemingly never-ending corridor - the sound that came from her own movement had at least given her some solstice. It was a constant drone, every step and variation nothing more that the slightest bit surprising, the Svefra’s gaze by then kept so permanently low that she did not see or care what gnarled and gruesome faces watched her walk.
 
How long had she been walking?- Ticks? Chimes?- Was it in circles that she walked, or forwards? Either of the two would not surprise her – Alvadas, it seemed, had its own macabre twists and spins upon all that was in Nyka. Even still, it was only the city of illusion – there was nothing true or right about the creatures that lurked in the shadows. It wasn’t real. They weren’t real. They can’t have been real.
 
Right?
 
She felt as though she were an old blind woman with the way she’d been shuffling, arms beginning to sore from how long they’d been outstretched, and blue eyes adjusting readily to the darkness, every flicker and glare and the slightest moving catching her gaze and holding her attention.
 
Then there was nothing.

No movement she made gave a single echo, ever kick of shattered glass falling shallow and hollow. No more echoes, no more sound from around her. She suddenly found herself missing all the comforts she hadn't realised she had- the sounds of movement in the distance disappeared, no longer did the thunder rumble or the wax from the candles drip. No sound of wind or echo.

All she could hear was herself. Her heart beating and the pumping of her blood, the hunger pangs hit her in a whole new kind of rumble, and her own breath rung in her ears. She swallowed hard and made quick to the next small section, finding herself completely and utterly surrounded - dozens of mirrors in a single circle, each glaring some obscenely colours version of herself, none, thank Zulrav, showing her with burning flesh.

Naia gave herself a moment of calm and breath, before she gathered her bearings and prepared for a different path, turning around to find that the abyss itself had been swallowed and that nothing but another image of her self had taken its place. "Petch!" She gave a solid thump to the mirror, her red reflection following suit, no glass broken or cracks resounding, another black fracture spidering from her point of impact.

'Why does it do this?'

There was little hope to be had in obsessing over a single lost path, and Naia mustered herself in all that she could manage as she pressed onwards, finding herself once more tottering down a dimly lit corridor, a number of little oddities attempting to catch her attention.

The one that took her full attention was that of a peculiar little mirror- with dirtied glass and several fractures already born, it was impossible to tell what reflection it gave, if any at all. The Svefra was already worn and tired, the tug of her gnosis mark finally trying to pull her towards the mirror - towards the sea - and ache that came from deep in her bones had debate which action to take.

As another pathway caught her eye, it was the strangest sensation that kept the woman firmly planted in spot - the glass seemed as though it were vibrating.

It was the smallest of movements, the shortest of thumps, and when Naia touched the glass she nearly recoiled in fright. It was warm. Dear Zulrav, the blighted thing was warm. She wet her lips and took a shocked step back, glancing left right and center over the dirt black and brown glass, before her overshirt was shed.

The worn and weathered shirt was still soaked the greater deal, and although the removal of dirt and grime was easier than it otherwise would have been, sweat was soon worked as Naia put all her hope and effort into clearing the cloud and muck. It was a chime before the layers began to thin, and the woman could begin to see further into the mirror, relief leaving her lungs when she saw that it was no reflection of her own that stared back.

But a cold sweat and whimper left her lungs when she saw it was another.

noteI hope this works for you!

[Aislyn Leavold]

The woman was gone.
Simply, surely, gone. Disappeared beyond the reach of what the glass could see. Evaporated around the corner, with not even the notion of noticing Aislyn crossing her figure. The illusionist had hoped that the woman would hear her, turn around… But she hadn’t. She had walked away.
Along with the woman went all hope Aislyn had of rescue. Or, at very least, company. At that point, she would have greatly appreciated either. Or perhaps, even death might have been nice. Might as well go fast, right? Instead of starving to death in the deathtrap she’d found herself in.

Shyke, why was she so petching stupid?

She could have just followed her gut feeling, weathering the storm outside, even if it meant catching some sort of cold. A cold would pass, would it not? But this house- this petching house- This house went on forever.
At least, that was what it seemed like.

But then, in darkness, there was always hope.

Just as the woman had begun to collapse in on herself, accepting fate as she knew it, a glimmer of colour caught her attention, hidden in the corner of her eye. It was up to luck and the gods themselves that she hadn’t missed it. A short flash of brown- or, perhaps, black? Either way, it was moving fast, bouncing from mirror to mirror down the corridor, quickly gaining distance away from Aislyn.
From that perspective, the woman couldn’t make heads or tails of what the figure was, no matter how hard she looked. And the longer she waited, the harder it became to see.

The problem was, Aislyn really didn’t want to follow it. She wanted to stupidly, stubbornly lay on the floor and do absolutely nothing until hunger overtook her mind. But the last hopeful, though perhaps not rational shred of her mind became dead-set on figuring out what the moving spec of colour had been. After all, she was already dead, was she not? It wouldn’t help to chase death a tiny bit longer…

So, the woman gave chase.

Soon enough, the figure stopped, and Aislyn was able to catch up to it, peering into the mirror it had stoned itself into. An old piece, the glass was covered in a light layer of dust, hindering what Lyn could see besides a blurry shape of various colour. Soon enough, however, the figure began running again, and Aislyn was astonished by what she saw as soon as it began to move. The figure was not appearing in all the mirrors, as she had once thought, but instead running through the mirrors, transferring the figure from one to the other as if the pieces were hosting a window, instead of a reflection.
What was more astonishing, however, was what Aislyn saw when the shape moved into a clearer view.

It was the woman.
Once again, the mystery woman had appeared, this time without disappearing when she went out of the perspective of the mirror. Aislyn wasn’t sure whether to be fascinated, relieved, or afraid. Really, she was all three. The woman in the mirror had become a symbol of hope for Aislyn in the short time that had transpired since she had first seen her. The only thing keeping the illusionist from tearing her hair out and collapsing on the floor.
Unfortunately, it appeared the stranger didn’t know that. No, she was working her way through the hall of mirrors as if led on by a guide, a steely and somewhat terrified look in her eyes. The only thing stopping Aislyn from saying the stranger was merely in a single room away from the illusionist was the glass separating them- It appeared the mystery woman was on the wrong side of the glass.
Or perhaps it was Aislyn that was on the wrong side.

A flash of movement in the corner of her eye suddenly alerted the woman to something else in the room- blink, and she would have missed it. In one of the mirrors, a small, extremely old looking one, there appeared to be some sort of movement, solely in one corner of the glass. At first, she dismissed it as just another illusion and, stubbornly, began to walk away, but came back as soon as she realized that she had lost her line of sight on the mirror woman, meaning that the movement in the corner of the glass most likely was the mirror woman.

Taking a closer look at the piece, Aislyn realized that the corner in which she had spotted the movement also happened to be the one corner of the glass not covered in some sort of heavy dust and layer of grime. When Aislyn tried to wipe said dirt away, however, nothing came off. It appeared, from her perspective, that the stuff was on the other side of the glass. Where, conviently, it appeared someone was rubbing it off. The illusionist could do absolutely nothing to help. She had to sit there, motionless, for what felt like the longest chime of her life, as the stranger on the other side of the glass rubbed away the barrier between them.
Then, suddenly, it was gone, and Aislyn was left standing face to face with the one other living soul in the hellhole of mirrors she’d found herself trapped in. Hope bloomed in her mind. She might even get out of this alive! It was, however, this hope that was immediately diminished with the sound of crunching glass behind her. At first, she refused to turn around, steeling her gaze on the woman in the mirror, but eventually, the sound became too great to ignore.

Slowly, she turned around, and was met with the reflection she hoped she had lost in the corridors long before. The reflective version of herself, with it’s crooked head and bloody smile. It had followed her as she had chased the mirror woman, and had chosen it’s moment to strike well. Once again, the illusionist’s heart began to pound. She had to get a message through to the woman, even if speaking didn’t work. It sure as hai hadn’t worked last time; not with her twisted reflection around.
So, Aislyn tried something different. Breathing a hot breath on the glass, she managed to fog up what clear parts were still transparent within the mirror. Then, with a shaky finger, she spelled out the letters, reversed and backwards,
”HELP ME”.

OOCYour post was fine, don’t worry Also, feel free to assume that Aislyn looks like “Maya” as Naia sees her, but the ‘Mirror Aislyn’ looks like her regular self, no illusions.

[Naia Whitewater]

Speech | 69th Autumn, 514 AV | Thoughts

Blonde of hair and blue of eyes.

Svefra?

‘No. She is too… soft.'

The ticks went on for chimes and the Svefra’s breath was taken from her – such a familiar sight, though without the weather and wearing of a true ocean born, almost had her thinking it was another trick. As though, perhaps, her mind was telling her that the reflection she saw was what she should look like, like a true Svefra. Her stomac lurched as her mind mulled over the prospect- then the woman flinched and moved, and her worry left her in a single rushing breath.

’Thank Zulrav.’

Her selfishness then wore to deeper thought, the woman reminding herself of the perils that she and the one trapped behind the mirror were quite possibly facing. She craned her neck to see what she saw, and in the shadows she saw some strange creature like no other.

It was then that she realised that she’d heard not a single sound. Her mind and gaze and body so full into work and wondering that the lack of sound had faded, but with now that she could see fear on another’s expression, the movement of her fine mouth and near desperate movement of her slender form – oh, yes. Now the silence was deafening.

She swallowed hard as she attempted to make out all she could- lip reading was not a skill that she was practiced in, and she could scarcely identify the language the woman spoke, much less what words she was attempting to say. It was then that the shadowy form and the woman’s own stuck a certain kind of familiarity, and her blood ran cold as she made link and connection to she being the one that’d entered prior, and whatever it was that she could just feel following her.

Distrust then seethed through her. It was the woman who’d lead her in- was it in bad intentions, good?- None at all? Another distant rumble reminded her of the terror of the almighty Zulrav, the own fear and adrenaline that still coursed through her veins, and that which no doubt flooded the woman before her. But it was not until the scrawling came that the feeling of dread to the woman finally ceased in all manner and form- the desperate fogged glass and the message that was born in it, the same one that was the forefront of her mind.

They both wanted the same thing. They both wanted help. They were both desperate for it. 

Her breath was taken back, and her heart was pounding strong, her hands and arms covered in grime and dust, the old overshirt in no better state. She didn't know what to do, there was one far more fearful on the other side of the glass- and she was caught in thought and worry. Laviku once more tugged her forward, and her bearings were gathered and gnosis at peace as she recognised the direction of the sea, and her prayers went to Zulrav for clarity.

It was in haste and poor thought that she slammed her own fist into the mirror, hoping to shatter the barrier between the woman and herself. There was little effect, she found, and she gave a hard look to the woman before her, a knowing nod as she tried to convey as much as she could with a single look. She would help. She wanted to help, and by Zulrav, she'd do everything in her power.

She attempted to bash the blighted glass once more, and pain shot through her fist, the recoil sharp and step back hurried. She winced as she shook out the jars and needles that remained, only the shortest of moments given to the consideration of broken bone or injured muscle. There was a time when such things could be dealt with, that was not now.

The sound of shattered glass and other horrid things once more crunched underfoot, and a cold shot through her as she considered a rather crucial little point. How did that glass break? She hovered for a moment, gaze meeting the woman's then falling once more, before she dropped quickly and sought a large shard. She didn't know what she was looking for, or if she'd missed it in her rushed glace over of the piece.

She swallowed hard and looked at the moment, as though seeking some comfort or confirmation that her actions and thoughts were not insane. It was then that another prayer for clarity was sent, and the soft glow of candlelight flickered frantically enough to catch her gaze, and the glass shard slipped from her grip and growing desperation had the woman march for it.

It was easier thought than done, and as Naia approached the old candle holder, she knew that she would be dimming the light available even more so in her action. A sharp breath was taken in and out, and the Svefra took the candle from its holder before placing near all of her weight hanging off of the piece- the snap and crack loud and piercing, and her heart receiving a jolt.

She tasted iron in her mouth, but forced thought of where she may have bled from mind, returning to the glass with haste, and gesturing to the woman to move back. She's not throw it until she was clear. Gods, she hoped it would work.

[Aislyn Leavold]

Desperation. Pure, whole, desperation. That was the only emotion floating throughout the maze of hellish mirrors that Aislyn had so stupidly wandered into. And, apparently, led someone else into. Or had the mystery woman come in before? It was a certain possibility that this woman had been trapped in the house for much longer than Aislyn had been, though an exact measure of time was harder to identify. The woman seemed dirty enough to have been there for hours. Days, even. She was covered in dust, and the room she was standing in appeared to be so as well.
Wait a moment.
The room was different as well. Or was it? No, it was definitely the same room… But different. Somehow. It was darker, despite the candles visible behind the mirror woman’s back. Then there was something else, something she wasn't noticing...

Concentrating on the observation of the room, Aislyn didn’t even realize the woman had moved until she heard the shattering of glass. Startled, the illusionist refocused her eyes back on the figure in the mirror. The woman's fist lay on the glass, as if she had struck it. Had she broken through? Aislyn reached out to check if the mirror still divided them, hoping her hand hit empty air. No luck. Cold, hard glass lay beneath her fingertips.
The barrier in between the two women was still unbroken.

Stepping back, Aislyn looked around in confusion to the source of the shattering glass. She couldn’t see anything, but then again, she hadn’t exactly expected to. The place was full of illusions, so there was no use in believing everything she heard. Besides, she had something to focus on now, and that was not the source of illusion-esque sounds. And, it seemed, the woman was in luck. The figure in the mirror was once again moving, though she shifted out of sight to where Aislyn was able to view. All Aislyn could see was a shadow- briefly illuminated, and then the light going out. Then the woman returned. What was she doing?

In her hands was a rather jagged piece of metal. A candle holder, if Aislyn wasn’t mistaken. Was that what she had gone out of sight to retrieve? A candle holder? How would that help them? The questions jumped back and forth in her mind, up until the moment the woman raised her arm, as if about to throw the metal piece.
Oh.
That was what she meant to accomplish, then? Smashing the glass with something much more capable than her bare hands? It seemed like a good idea, though the consequences didn’t seem quite worth it. Already, Aislyn could see the trickle of blood gleaming on the candle holder’s handle, as if the woman had cut herself in an effort to retrieve it. Not a good start, but the illusionist supposed it was their only choice at that point. She herself hadn’t exactly helped much, so it wasn’t in her right to deny the ideas of the woman in the mirror. All she could do was stand back and watch the throw.
So that was exactly what she did.

Aislyn stepped out of sight of the mirror, a supposedly safe distance away from any glass that could end up flying in her direction when the mirror shattered. After a few ticks of nothing, the woman even gave in to the paranoia and shielded her eyes. Then came the crash. Except it didn’t seem to be just one mirror shattering. When she finally opened her eyes again, Aislyn realized that, after the first mirror had been broken with a swing of the candle holder, every mirror surrounding it had shattered as well, littering the floor with an array of flashing glass pieces. Aislyn’s ears rung from a mixture of the deafeningly loud simultaneous clatter that the broken mirrors had made, though strangely, it seemed her heart pounding excessively with the newfound adrenaline was the loudest noise of all.

For a few ticks that seemed more like bells, Aislyn stood silently, staring at the carpet of glass now covering the hallway. The mirrors had shattered quite violently, more like a window with a rock thrown through than a mirror hit with a metal rod. The glass had burst outwards, and since many of the mirrors around the struck one had exploded as well, Aislyn had been hit with quite a few pieces of the glass itself. This only became apparent when a sharp stinging sensation finally worked its way into her arm.
Still, she ignored it, turning her focus to the now-gapingly open hole in the wall where the struck mirror had been before. Within it, seeming to be in just as bad shape as Aislyn was, stood the mirror woman.
Chance had worked itself out in their favour. The mirror had been a window after all.

[Naia Whitewater]

Speech ||| Thoughts

The look the fellow captive gave was not one that filled Naia with confidence.

The Svefra pressed her lips and smothered the cuss that was near slipping from her mouth, and locked it deep in her mind. She couldn't allow an inkling of worry to poison her. She had to be safe and sure, resolute in each action and thought. She couldn't let such a blighted place steal herself away from her. She'd travelled too hard and too far for such a thing to happen, and her grip on the candle handle tightened until her knuckles turned white.

The moment it seemed as though the woman was back and clear of any immediate harm, Naia gauged her position and her grasp, loosening her grip as she mulled over how to strike. She'd have thrown it had she not come to the conclusion that a solid strike of her own making would leave her ever more so satisfied. A final prayer to Zulrav and Laviku were given, before she used the momentum gained from the piece's action to take a rushed step forward and cleave the mirror with an almighty blow, her right hand sheltering her face as her left followed through, withdrawing her body with a twist before contact was even made, the length of the pole giving far more leverage than she could have hoped, allowing it to slip from her fingers once she decided enough force had been garnered.

The sound that followed near deafened her.

The initial clash blowing a ringing to her ears that near fell her, but it was the separate pieces falling that caused the most agony, the woman stumbling back several paces as her vision hazed and her mind left her and returned, the sharp stinging that ripped across her body making point and case as to why she should have thrown the damn thing.

Naia bit her tongue as she rose her head, a prickling to her eyes as she forbade the tears that wished to wet her cheeks, before all expression that had taken to her fell.

More than she'd intended had shattered, with those that surrounded the vile, dirtied mirror of her aim shattered themselves, and a breath of relief rolled from her lip as she saw quite clearly the room beyond, and all the pain that sliced through her body was made every pinch worth it. "Thank the Gods," she choked, her voice hoarse and strained, the pain that shot through her legs near falling her, though her spirits raised, a short note to how much of the glass had show out towards the girl in the mirror both lightening and heavying her once more- she was lucky not to have sustained more injury, though she feared that the one she wished to save would be far more injured than she.

She blinked thrice and looked about the room before her like a madwoman, before her gaze finally found and kept hold of the woman that had cried out for help, her form as stricken and solid as Naia's own. There was a lag to Naia's entire being, both her body and her mind needing to slam and shudder before a jolt spit her spine, her first few steps towards the newly cleaved path shaky and uneasy. "You..." she trailed, the word sitting awkwardly on her tongue, Naia having to sweep glass from the floor with her shoes before taking step, not game to test how thick the sole was. "Are you alright?"

She pressed her lips as she gauged how to continue over the barrier, stepping over the shards that protruded upwards with great care, though being careful not to draw too far into the room in which the woman stood. "We nee-" she cut off her words and licked her lips, a hand shooting to her cheek as she felt the warmth of blood slowly trickle from it, restarting her words once her due bearings were gathered. "We should find a way out of here." She revelled in the short reprieve while it was had, the ringing in her ears finally beginning to settle, her gaze once more adjusting to the new level of light.

The night would be long, yet.