A slender-looking young man with alabaster white hair and a delicate, almost ethereal face lay on a small but comfortable bed, with a visibly horrid expression — convulsing uncontrollably whilst breathing heavily.
He jolted awake in the middle of the night, chest heaving as if escaping from a nightmare that felt way too real.
For a good minute or two, the young man's breathing remained labored before gradually steadying.
His vivid sapphire-blue eyes which could easily be mistaken for a pair of invaluable gems, had been dilated from the terror, but slowly they returned to their previous calm state.
Now calm, Clay Reverin studied his surroundings. It was the same old room he had always known — small, confined and sparsely furnished. The room was bathed in ambient moonlight, cascading through the blinds of the window.
Clay shifted his gaze towards the calendar on the table to his side.
[02/02/20]
Today marked his sixteenth birthday.
A grim expression appeared on his face, as he realized what day it was and how much weight it carried.
With a sweep of his gaze, Clay noticed a mirror draped in a black cloth.
Glancing at the concealed mirror, Clay felt something uneasy stirring in his chest. For a while, he just sat in silence, trying to will himself to look away. But curiosity was crueler than fear.
Hesitantly, Clay rose from the bed. His bare feet embraced the cold wooden floor as he walked over to the veiled mirror with deliberate steps.
Clay's hand hesitated before tugging away the black fabric concealing the mirror. The smooth and polished reflecting surface revealed his charming reflection, but terror seized him. A sudden click echoed through his mind, as his vision fractured.
Blurry images flashed — an endless dark expanse of mirrors and glass stretched as far as the eye could see in all directions, each reflecting his graceful appearance, twisting and changing.
Panic-stricken, clutching his temples, Clay squeezed his eyes shut and hastily veiled the mirror with the black fabric, as if to sever himself from the nightmare looming over him.
He stood there for a long time, hands trembling, with sweat running down his forehead. His mouth moved, whispering words to no one but himself.
'You might be wondering what's wrong with me.'
He shut his eyes.
'To tell you the truth, I'm afraid of mirrors and glass. I always have been. They make my skin crawl. The longer I stare into them, the more something stirs inside me — a weird feeling grips my heart, twisting it until I can barely breathe'
A laugh devoid of humour escaped his throat.
'Call it mirror phobia, or whatever. Even a coward wouldn't be afraid of something so ordinary. But I'm afraid, and no matter what I do... I'm unable to shake it off.'
Clay turned away from the mirror, the first rays of sunlight cascading through the blinds and spilled across the wooden floor. Morning had come.
He pulled out a pair of ragged leather boots and put on a black cloak which complimented his frosted white hair. He took one last glance at the room before stepping outside.
***
The village was already awake, blanketed in powdered snow. Thin streams of smoke curled up from chimneys, the smell of fresh bread being baked lingered in the air, the snow covered paths between the houses bustled with neighbors scraping away the snow with a shovel, their breath misting in the cold morning light.
Children laughed with joy — building crooked snowmen as they hurled snowballs at one another.
Clay smiled faintly as he walked in silence, heading toward the place he had in mind.
Soon, he arrived at a lake — its surface sealed beneath a thick sheet of ice. The sheet of ice stretched out like a vast mirror, reflecting the pale sky above, only this mirror was a hundred times larger… and far colder.
As his gaze lingered, Clay spotted a group of familiar faces. Among them, one stood out instantly — a girl with golden-blonde hair, dazzling under the brilliant sunlight. For a moment, she seemed almost unreal.
Then her gaze met his, and before he could say anything, she rushed towards him, her voice carrying across the cold air.
"CLAYY!"
Her expression was unmistakably bright. With no hesitation, she immediately seized his hand — her warm hands against the biting cold, and pulled him towards the group.
Collectively everyone in the group wished Clay.
"Happy Birthday, Clay!"
Clay felt rejoiced as the warm wishes of his friends entered his ear.
A few moments later, they all sat down near the lake, on the edges of the dock.
With his eyes closed for an obvious reason, Clay was the first one to speak.
"Uhh... guys, this might very well be my last day on ear—"
Before he could finish speaking, a first shot out of nowhere — smacking the top of his head with a loud THWACK!
A ridiculously, cartoonish large bump instantly swelled up.
"OWWW! DAMN IT, THAT HURTS, YOU BASTARD, ZEPHYR!".
Clay clutched his head, wincing in pain as he stumbled back.
A man with jet-black hair grinned, with a hint of satisfaction written all over his face and spoke in a funny tone.
"SERVES YOU RIGHT, NITWIT!"
Clearing his throat, he crossed his arms and added in a more serious tone.
"What made you think that? We all have passed our trials to become a resonant... and so can you!"
Rubbing the bump on his head, Clay replied.
"Well... it's not pretty easy for me, at least. Considering how bad my reaction to a single mirror is... what if multiple show up in the trial?"
Another voice joined in, softer but carrying a similar tone.
"Whether it's mirrors or not, Clay... We all had to face our own fair share of fears in the trial"
Clay clicked his tongue, looking away he grimaced.
"Nicholas, I know that. but... honestly it's just scary. What if I don't clear the trial? What if I never returned?"
The golden-blonde haired girl placed a hand gently on his shoulder, her voice carrying a steady influx of optimism.
"Clay, the trial doesn't test what you see... rather it tests what you Chose to believe in."
Somehow, Clay resonated with those words. Grasping something he failed to understand all this time.
The group continued talking for a long while, their voices converging with the gentle hum of the village, until the sun dipped low in the sky.
At last, Clay got up to his feet and gave a faint smile.
"Thanks, everyone... for everything."
Then, one by one, everyone began to leave, until only Clay remained.
Once again, he found himself alone, making his way home. He walked down the same streets he had grown up on, they had a very special place in his heart. Nostalgia lingered in his heart, until he finally reached home.
By then the harbinger of night, darkness had enveloped the vast sky, which was only illuminated by the lonesome moon.
With that notion, Clay entered his cabin and collapsed onto the comfort of his bed.
His gaze wandered around for a while before fixing onto the veiled mirror, a quiet resolve weaved itself into his eyes as they glimmered with hope.
He whispered.
"I'm not going down without a fight"
Just then, a brilliant incandescent light enveloped the entire cabin — and in the next moment Clay was nowhere to be found.