The Forgotten Crown

Chapter Fifteen

Morana gazed into an ornate mirror in front of her. The frame was archaic, hewn of thick wood that curled at the top two corners.

Her eyes were heavy, the room a blur around her. The buzz of complete silence wafted through the empty white space.

It wasn't a room. No ceiling, no walls. Only endless white, stretching on, and on, and on. Nothing but her and the mirror.

She stepped forward. Her feet slapped against water, shallow and cold against her skin, the taps echoing into distant sounds.

Her reflection did not move.

Morana halted.

It wasn't her reflection.

Morana blinked at the child, no older than thirteen, in the mirror and their identical white gowns and the phantom wind that lifted their hair. Eyes, the color of amber, stared back at her.

Morana took another step. "Who are you?"

The girl's eyes were as bright as the sun as she stared through Morana. She watched pale lips smack together, but no words came.

Morana kept walking, a wave of calm wading into her. Her legs glided across the threshold. The tap, tap, tap of the wet floor. She paused next to the glass. "Can you hear me?" she asked, placing her hands upon the opulent frame.

The girl nodded.

Morana peered around the mirror. There was nothing behind it, just the golden back and empty space. The halfling child was behind the glass—inside the mirror. Morana faced her. "Tell me who you are."

The girl's shoulders slumped. Her mouth moved, those lips forming a long sentence, but again, no voice reached Morana. She stopped mid-reply and ran her fingers through her hair, so white it bled into the surroundings. She pressed a palm into the glass.

Something urged Morana closer. Her body leaned into the mirror until her breath clouded on the glass. Morana pressed her palm against the girl's. It was not the glass she touched. Electricity surged through her at the warmth of flesh.

She stumbled backward, landing hard on her rear. Morana squeezed her eyes shut, bringing her hand to her forehead as it throbbed.

The space became sweltering.

Morana lowered her hand, opening her eyes to find the mirror gone. She was inside of a round stone room, the walls ablaze. Around her, everything burned. Fire licked at the walls, orange and hellish. Morana glanced around furiously.

Corpses lay all around her with blood pooling out of their eyes and mouths. She shrieked, scurrying to her feet as she backed away.

Her ankle caught on something hard. The world tilted and Morana collided with the floor once again. She pushed onto her rear and screamed once she found what had tripped her.

Alastair and Jovah lay on their backs next to each other. Their eyes wide with horror, blood dripping out of their tear ducts and ghostly pale lips. Morana shoved away from them and scrambled to her feet.

She ran.

The fire crackled and hissed behind her, biting at her heels the farther she sprinted, urging her to go faster. Monstrous grand doors towered over her.

Morana shoved them open and nearly threw herself over a cliff. She yelped, skidding to a stop just before her body careened into the foggy chasm below. She whirled around to face the fire, but the room had fizzled away.

She stared into a murky forest. She was suddenly soaked, rain pouring down from a black sky.

Lightning cracked.