The classroom had emptied hours ago, but the echoes of silver light still clung to Kael like a second skin. He lingered, hands resting lightly on the desk yet muscles taut, every nerve humming with the residue of yesterday's lesson. Outside, Elior's presence was a soft gravity; he lingered, waiting, letting Kael feel the steadiness of his quiet attention without pressing.
Professor Aldric watched from the doorway for a long moment before speaking. "Kael," he said, voice calm, deliberate, carrying the weight of frost and time. "Walk with me."
Kael rose, fingers curling slightly as if reluctant to leave the air that still shimmered around the crystal sphere. He followed, his steps echoing in the quiet corridors of the old academy, where the stones seemed to remember every mage who had ever passed through.
They entered the staff chamber—Aldric's private sanctum, shelves of tomes stretching to the ceiling, faint light falling from stained-glass windows that refracted into soft spectrums of color. The air smelled of parchment, dust, and something older, something immaterial.
"Sit," Aldric gestured toward a high-backed chair near a table of scattered scrolls and crystals. Kael obeyed, and Aldric remained standing, looking down at him with frost-colored eyes that seemed to pierce past the body and into the echoes that lived beneath it.
"Tell me what happened in the lesson," Aldric said softly.
Kael's jaw tightened. "You already know."
"Perhaps," Aldric replied, "but I wish to hear it from the mind that felt it."
Kael exhaled, letting the tension in his shoulders loosen fractionally. "The sphere… it showed me fragments. Not just reflections. Not memories exactly, but… patterns. Of me. Of him. Of choices. The echoes of decisions I didn't make… yet."
Aldric nodded slowly. "Patterns. You notice them well. The mirror does not ask, Kael—it listens. And when it listens, it waits for a response."
Kael's eyes narrowed. "A response to what?"
"To the question that has always been there, only buried beneath time and forgetting. The mirror asks—do you remember, or do you choose again? And the answer lies not in obedience, but in understanding. You do not control the mirror. It guides you. You…" Aldric paused, letting the words hang, "…you discern."
Kael shifted, fingers brushing against the polished wood of the table. "And if the answer… is unclear?"
"Then it is not for me to intervene," Aldric said, soft but unwavering. "Magic is a mirror of the soul. And some souls… must walk in shadows to recognize the light themselves. Your choice is not to survive it, but to see what it asks of you. To ask yourself what you must protect."
A silence stretched, filled with unspoken histories. Kael's eyes traced the faint cracks in the wall, imagining them like the threads of his own past weaving through centuries, unseen yet unbroken.
Aldric's voice returned, quieter, like a secret passed through time. "Tell me, Kael… when you look into the glass, do you seek to remember, or to recognize?"
Kael paused, hand hovering above the table. "Recognition," he whispered. "Not memory. Recognition."
The professor's expression softened slightly, approving but guarded. "Then you walk with the past beside you. And now you must ask—who do you guard, and from what?"
Kael's pulse thrummed in his ears. The words felt like stones dropped into water, ripples expanding through his soul. "And if the answer is not mine to give?"
"Then the mirror will wait. The mirror has always waited," Aldric said. He turned, leaving Kael with the weight of thought, and the scent of old tomes fading like a sigh.
Outside, Elior leaned against the stone wall, sunlight catching in his hair as he watched the students drift past. His chest tightened as Kael emerged, expression distant, eyes like storms hidden behind glass.
"You okay?" Elior asked softly, stepping forward, careful not to intrude.
Kael's gaze met his, measured, almost apologetic. "I will be. Eventually."
Elior nodded, saying nothing further. Words had little use here. Instead, Kael led him toward the college pond, a quiet space where water reflected the sky with near-perfect stillness, disturbed only by wind or passing birds.
Kael knelt at the edge, eyes scanning the surface. "See the patterns?" he asked, voice low, as if speaking to both Elior and the ripples themselves.
Elior frowned. "Patterns of what?"
Kael didn't answer directly. "Do you ever notice a stone among many? A single one that draws your eye? Not the largest, not the brightest… but somehow… essential?"
Elior glanced around. "I suppose… sometimes."
"That is the mirror," Kael said, almost a whisper. "Among countless reflections, it asks you to notice one. One choice. One truth. It hides among others, yet it is the only one that matters. Do you understand?"
"Not yet," Elior admitted.
Kael's hand hovered above the water. The surface rippled, catching fragments of sunlight. "Then consider this—what is revealed in patterns, and what is hidden in stillness? The answer you seek is not shouted. It is inferred. Recognized. Felt. And sometimes… it waits for you to stumble upon it, just as you would notice a stone among many."
Elior's fingers clenched slightly. "Kael… what choice?"
Kael's lips curved faintly, but no direct answer came. "The mirror does not tell me. It asks. I only guide. And the guide… sometimes only questions."
The water pulsed faintly, reflections of them dancing like spirits, weaving questions into answers. Elior felt his chest tighten with curiosity and unease. Every instinct whispered—this magic was alive. And it had already seen them both.
From a distance, Aevrin watched, leaning casually against a tree, eyes narrowed. He noted Kael's tension, Elior's concern, and the way the pond seemed almost to breathe with the echoes of the past. So that is why Aldric called him aside… he mused. Mirror magic chooses its apprentice, but it also observes… measures… tests. And Kael… he is more than the surface lets on.
Kael turned his gaze fully on Elior. "Tell me," he asked, voice deliberate, "if a shadow follows you, unseen but persistent, do you chase it, or step aside and observe?"
Elior blinked, uncertain. "I… observe?"
Kael's expression remained unreadable. "And if that shadow knows the path you were never meant to walk, do you risk it, or retreat?"
"I… don't know," Elior whispered.
"Then you are like the mirror," Kael murmured, almost to himself. "Seeking truth in reflections that offer only questions. The answer isn't handed—it is recognized when you see it. Do you see it?"
Elior shook his head slightly, heart tightening. "I… think so. But only barely."
Kael smiled faintly. "Good. That is enough for now. You will understand more when the pond speaks to you in its own way, when it chooses to ripple."
Another silence stretched. Elior leaned slightly closer, drawn by the gravity in Kael's words.
"And," Kael continued, voice dropping to a riddle, "if the stone that catches your eye is not the only one… but the first… would you notice the rest? Or would you stay with the one that matters?"
Elior's fingers traced a ripple in the water. "I… I suppose I stay with the one that matters."
Kael nodded. "Then you understand the path… or at least the first step."
From above, Aevrin shifted, lips curling in a faint smirk. Patterns, recognition, tests… he mused. So Aldric was right to watch. The boy is awakening. The mirror does not lie, and yet… it does not reveal everything. Kael's reaction… the others cannot yet see, but the pieces are aligning.
The pond remained still for a long while, reflections dancing faintly in the shifting light.
Kael turned to Elior one last time. "Tell me… when you look at the reflection of yourself, and see someone who is not entirely you… what do you recognize first?"
Elior blinked. "The parts I do not understand… but that I feel."
"Exactly," Kael said. "And that is the mirror. The questions hide the answers. And the answers hide more questions. Remember this: the soul chooses not by knowing, but by feeling. And sometimes… the path only becomes clear after walking it, not before."
Elior nodded, chest tight with unasked questions and sudden understanding. He glanced at Kael, the boy who seemed to carry centuries in his eyes, and realized—some truths could only be learned, not taught.
Kael rose, extending a hand to help Elior stand. "Come," he said softly. "There are more ripples yet to see, and the stone is waiting for us to notice it."
Elior took the hand, trusting the pull in a way that went beyond words. The pond reflected sunlight and shadows alike, but between them, patterns began to form—unseen yet undeniable, questions embedded in questions, the first steps of a journey that would never end.
Above, Aevrin watched one final moment before turning away, thoughts heavy with speculation and curiosity. The mirror had chosen its apprentice. And the story… had only begun.
— by Aurea;"A mirror does not command. It whispers. And only those who listen see the stones that matter."