Where The Reflection Stops

In retrospect, it was kind of odd Kitten never wondered where the old mirror came from. It was rather blatantly out in the open, set next to the spiraling grand staircase. Actually, that might be why she never really saw it before, the staircase kinda stole all the grand old thing’s attention. There absolutely would have been some if Mr. Staircase wasn’t there.

The mirror was a floor to ceiling affair, all dulled silver with drops of faint gold embedded in the dark spirals framing it. The oak it was built into shone, like someone polished it, then skipped the mirror.

It took her a while to notice all that though, multiple times of coming back to stare at the newly discovered bit of house. Because, well: the mirror did this fascinating thing where the entire bit of mirror that Kitten could look into had turned a deep, silvery ink sort of opaque.  It was like staring into an- abyss, that was the word, right? An endless hole, or at least something that seems endless. Was that in the definition? She can’t remember.

Aunt Elda laughed when Kitten asked about the mirror, said “dearie, that’s just a silvered mirror, no abyss involved. The bits that made the mirror work got worn off, and no wonder, the thing’s over a century old. A lot of little fingerprints found their way to it, wore the poor thing out.”

Huh, fingers are more powerful than Kitten expected, especially tiny child ones.

They must have figured it was fingers cause the silvery abyss ended a foot over Kitten’s head, out of reach of the tiny ones.  A shiny stretch of lake, reflecting the curves carved and painted out of the towering front hall’s doors, the hummingbirds she knows are drawn out of the walls, but can’t actually see, lost to the distance between the mirror and what it reflects.

“Fascinating old thing, isn’t it?” Aunt Elda laughs when she found Kitten staring at it again. She squats down, smoothing her apron out as she gazes into the dark. “Almost like looking into another world.”    

She fondly points out bits of the dark world. “Those two wisps of silver look like a mountain against the black, don’t they? Oh, there’s two people going down it, see?” Aunt Elda points at two squiggles of silver at its base, one slightly taller than the other.  

She nods seriously, Auntie talking to her was… well, it didn’t happen much, and Kitty likes her, and plays with stick dolls, so she won’t point out it’s more squiggle than person. Squiggles that seem deeper than the mountain, embedded somehow.

Aunt Elda points out the impression of a river next, a steadily moving flow despite how it’s barely visible. There’s a hill of trees she can’t actually see, hugging the edge of the mirror’s working reflection.

Somehow, that makes it more special, doesn’t it?

The bell rings, a sharp clear sound pulling Aunty away to see whatever Count Abyss wants this time. She draws herself out of her crouch, tells Kitten to go back to the servant’s quarters (where she’s supposed to be, never actually is,) walks away.

Kitten sighs, leans toward the mirror, then pulls herself away (She’s definitely not supposed to touch it.) Well, she got to talk to Auntie for a bit, so that counts for something, right? She doesn’t notice she’s slumping into the mirror till it’s too late, and her shoulder touches it.

The same moment, a deep ‘dong’ rattles through the room, echoing from a clock Kitten has never seen.

Her arm and head slides into the shockingly warm ink just as she opens her mouth to- what, call for help? It fills her mouth, tastes strangely like powdered sugar as she drops through it’s thickness.  

It feels like everything twists suddenly, up and down flipping positions, then a rush of momentum that throws her out. She catches herself on her hands as she falls face-first onto- a black mountain? No that doesn’t- it glows silver, the whole thing, but it’s black underneath the inch of light.

The sky- it’s a curving black, the glow the only think showing where it picks up at the mountain’s end.  Kitten stares up at it, sees no stars, or clouds, or any hint of color. Just the reflection of the mountain smothered in darkness.

“Woah” she whispered, even as her brain helpfully points out mountains and skies really don’t work like this, and chances are she fell asleep and none of this actually exists. She tears her eyes away, looks down the mountain. She still wants to see everything.

The mountain casually ambles downhill, making it easy for the two figures further down to come up. One’s shorter than the other, Kitty think’s they might be holding hands, but from this far away it’s hard to tell.

They’re definitely glowing though, more concentrated than the mountain, standing out starkly, even against the river thing at the bottom of the mountain. It’s barely glowing at all.

Wait… those figures are weirdly thin, now they’re closer.

A nagging suspicion on her, Kitten scrambles down the mountain; she wants to know before she wakes up, is this-?

They’re made up entirely of one long line. No legs, no arms- they’re holding hands with their heads, hopping up the same incline Kitten’s running down. Just like the figures in the mirror.

“Hullo, slow down, you’ll fall on your face and get mountain smeared all over it”

Kitten flails to a very abrupt stop. The taller one. The taller one said that. How’d they say it? She can’t see a mouth.

No that’s not important (yes it is! It’s just not a nice thing to think about someone worried she’ll fall on her face.)

“Thanks!” She squeaks out.

“No problem girlie.” Oh, there’s his mouth. Of course it’s where his head would be. Wait, girlie?

“What got you in such a hurry? You goin to a doctor?”

Huh? “No?” It naturally sounds like a question, due to the sheer amount of confusion taking up residence in her head.

“Oh, you should, with that number of growths on you. There’s a healer house at the bottom of the mountain, just aim for that big curve in the river.” He points at a barely visible (but admittedly massive) turn in the river, set where it draws closest to the mountain.”

“Thank you, mister.” Kitten says, even as she wonders what he means by ‘growths.’ She doesn’t have growths… and he means my arms, doesn’t he?

Well, so much for going to the healer house. She walks past the two of them, and vaguely wonders why they want to go up the mountain anyway. Eh, too late to ask.

She walks and walks, and her brain must clock out at some point, cause she’s suddenly standing at the base- at the point where the mountain’s glow drops, and the ground turns to black. It’s… not really distinguishable from the sky, at least in the places the river’s faintness doesn’t touch. It’s got to be important for being a clear and, if nothing else.

What’s the river look like up close? She could always avoid the healers.

She keeps on walking, stumbling against a rough ground she can’t see. The river stays fixed in the distance.   

At some point she gives up, turns around to see how far she’s gone-

Oh. Oh boy. So, she definitely made progress, because she can see it now.

Behind the mountain’s glow, up above and beyond it, there are hummingbirds. They’re set next to the massive door with it’s own wooden carvings, and she can see them now. She can see the details of the fluttering wings and tiny beaks in the giant sky, in detail she could never hope for in the mirror itself-

The world shakes. She wakes up. It was a dream.