Vacations was meant to feel light, carefree . A chance to have fun. Something you step into and out without consequences.
That was the lie Rynessa Hales carried with her as she walks through the old quarter of Barcelona, underneath a sky washed pale by the fading gold of the late afternoon.
The city was thrumming with life. Street performers strummed guitars beneath balconies that were dripped with flowers, as the scent of frying oils, citrus and sea tangled with expensive perfume. Laughter bounced off the stone building that had outlived empires.
Her friends moved ahead of her in a loose noisy cluster. "Ryne!" Mira called, half turning as she walked backward, almost colliding with a man carrying a shopping bag. "If you slow down any more, we might end up loosing you to the crowd."
"Don't worry, I'm right here." Rynessa replied, but her feet dragged.
She couldn't explain it, but something about this part of the city pressed against her rib. And no, it had nothing to do with fear and more to do with recognition.
Which was weird since she had never been here, not until now. But even right now, it felt like she had stepped into a dream she had once forgotten.
They turned down a narrow street with no activity, quieter and much older. The sunlight thinned as building leaned in ward, blocking the sky. The temperature shits subtly as a coolness that didn't belong to the hour enveloped her. That was when she saw it.
A shop that was sat wedged between two modern storefront. It's glass was dim and dusted from the inside as though it had given up trying to be seen.
Etched faintly into the window:
The Veiled Hour
Her step slows to a stop. "Guys.." she called softly, "wait."
Lina was the first to stop, following her gaze and her lips stretches into a grin. "Oh…this looks absolutely hunted, and I'm loving it."
Before Rynessa could decide whether or not the pull in her chest was of curiosity or warning, her friends had always pushed the door open.
The bell above the door chimes softly, the temperature inside drops several degrees more, but just enough to make the fine hairs along her arms lift beneath her sleeves.
The air smiled of something ancient….dust, paper and something metallic…..almost like rain striking rusted iron.
Something about this place felt right and wrong at the same time, and Rynessa wasn't sure why. But something in her told her to leave, that she should haven't gone.
She pushes the thought behind her head as her eyes scanned the shop. The ceiling had appeared modest from outside, but insides, the shelves were stretched impossibly high, vanishing into dimness. Objects crowded every available space…books bound in cracked leather, glass bottle filled with swirling substance that seemed to shimmer faintly when no one touches them. And jewellery filled by age but heavy with presence.
Her friend had dispersed the moment they walked in. Mira had made her way over a tray of old rings, Lina had picked up a porcelain mask and was holding it over to her face, while peering through the eyehole. Arjun was running a finger along a row of spines, muttering about how perfect the place was for a killer film set.
Rynessa on the other hand was still rooted in her spot by the door. She couldn't move. Something had caught her eyes, standing tall against the far wall.
A mirror.
Oval.
It was framed in blackened metal etched with symbols that curved and twisted in a way that it felt alive, like they hadn't been carve, but had grown into it.
One thing she notice that was strange about the mirror, was the fact that it didn't reflect the room correctly, and only reflected her. Way too clearly.
She takes a step closer before she consciously choose to. Her reflection stares back at her, brown hair loosened by the wind, cheeks flushed faintly from walking and eyes darker than usual.
There was something else there too.
A ripple in the glass. It was just slightly but it managed to catch her breath. Because, right behind her reflection, where the wall should have been, a shape formed.
Tall, broad shoulders, with long hair that cascade over one shoulder.
Shadow clung to him as if it belonged there, counting around his form like smoke refusing to disperse.
She couldn't see his face clearly, but she felt it. The weight of him, the certainty, and this cause her pulse to slam into her throat.
She spun around. Nothing, just bare stone wall and dust mote drifting lazily in the still air. Slowly, her heart hammered as she turns back, the mirror showed only her again.
"Okay.." she whispers. "What in the hell."
At the base of the frame were letters curves in an unfamiliar script. She didn't recognize the language, but for some crazy weird reason, she was able to understand it.
The meaning had slid into her mind like a memory resurfacing from a deep water.
What is veiled shall be awaken when the bound heart remembers.
Her fingers lifted against their own accord, her palm pressed against the glass and warmth bloomed all over her skin. A low vibration hummed beneath the surface, subtle yet unmistakeable.
The symbols carved into the frame began to glow faintly, a dim silver pulse spreading along their curves.
The mirror darkened and the shadow figure appeared again, this time closer. His head tilted as if he were looking through the glass. Not reflected by it, but looking right at her.
His eyes flared. A colour she could not name, somewhere between molten silver and night.
She jerked her hand back with a sharp inhale
"That mirror isn't for sale." A voice came from beside her, and Rynessa nearly stumbled as she turned.
There was an elderly woman standing beside her, and she wonder how she hadn't heard her footsteps approaching. She had not felt any movement, yet here she was, standing so close to her.
The woman had a silver hair which was braided nearly down her back, her skin were lined deeply, and her eyes were sharp, far younger than the rest of her.
Those eyes studied her face, then her hand. "You felt it, didn't you." The woman said softly.
"Felt what?" Rynessa forces a nervous laugh.
"The pull."
"I have no idea what you are talking about."
"There is no need denying it," the woman's lips curved faintly. "It felt you too."
A chill crawled up Rynessa's spine. "I think your mirror might be defective."
The woman ignored the joke. "It isn't defective, it doesn't show what needs to be seen with the physical eyes, but the bindings that ties what you search for."
Rynessa blinked. "Okay..now you are just talking crazy.."
"You know it too, deep down, you know what I say to be true." The woman murmured. "You feel it too, that which was once sealed, buried, what was once promised."
"I don't…." she stops, taking a deep breath. "I don't know what kind of theme you're going for here, but it's working."
"You touched it without permission."
"Well, if my apology is going to end what ever this is, I apologize."
"What is set can't be undone. You've opened a pathway," the air seemed thinner suddenly, her throat dry as the woman stepped closer, and though she was smaller in stature, something about her presence expanded.
Something old.
"You carry the mark," the woman whispers, and a long pause stretches between them, the shop felt way more quieter than before, even her friends voice seemed distant and muffled. The woman looked at her then back at the mirror as she continued. "It recognizes it's own, and has been waiting."
"For what?" Rynessa asked, though she wasn't sure she wanted the answer.
"For you." A brittle laugh escaped her. "Time is not what you think it is," the woman leaned closer, her voice dropped to a whisper that felt like it slid beneath Rynessa's skin.
"When the dreams begin," the woman continued, "do not ignore them." Her breath smelled faintly of myrrh and something metallic. "When… you start dreaming of him….when he speaks your name, do not answer lightly." Her expression softened, almost pitying. "Just know this, Rynessa Hales, the bound heart remembers before the mind does."
Cold dread pooled in Rynessa's chest. "I…how…how did you know my name?"
The woman's eyes gleamed, "You do not need to worry about that, for I have known you longer than you remember, Rynessa."
A sudden burst of laughter from across the shop shattered the tension. Mira's voice.
"Rynessa! You have to see this necklace!" The spell fractured, sound rushed back in, air returned and Rynessa stepped away sharply.
"This is insane," she muttered.
The woman did not follow. "Do not ignore them, the dreams," she said quietly.
Rynessa did not linger and instead turned, walking quickly towards her friends.
The bell chimed again as they stepped out into the street.
"Okay," Lina said immediately, grabbing her arm. "Why were you talking to that creepy-keeper alone?"
Mira's eyes widened. "She looked like she crawled out of a Victorian séance."
Arjun grinned. "What did she say to you that makes your face pale?"
Rynessa forced a shrug. "I honestly have no clue what she was talking about," she replied. "It was nothing worth remembering."
"Are you sure? Because you looked spooked by what ever she was saying," Mira pressed.
"Trust me, it's nothing relevant." She rolled her eyes. "Probably trying to sell me some overpriced haunted artifact."
"Please tell me you didn't buy anything," Lina said.
"I didn't buy anything."
Arjun glanced back at the shop. "Why does it look darker now?"
They all turned, the window was empty, the mirror she had seen before was no where in sight.
Just dust.
Rynessa's pulse skipped.
"Wasn't there a huge mirror in the window?" Mira asked.
"There was," Lina said slowly.
"Maybe they moved it," Arjun offered.
"Yeah," Rynessa said quickly. "Probably." She doesn't mention the warmth still faintly pulsing in her palm.
Mira clapped her hands suddenly. "Okay, creepy antique shop aside…. it's our last night here."
Lina gasped. "Oh my god. We have to go out."
Arjun grinned. "One last reckless decision before we go back to reality."
Mira snapped her fingers. "We're going to Opium Barcelona."
Lina squealed. "Yes! Beachfront club, neon lights and bad choices."
Rynessa hesitated, then forced a smile. "Sure," she said. "Why not."
By nightfall, the city had transformed. Neon bled into the streets, music throbbed from open doors and the Mediterranean breeze carried salt and heat and something electric.
Inside the club, lights fractured the darkness into colour and motion, bodies pressed close, laughter rose and fell in waves.
With drinks in her hand and the music pounded through her chest, for a while, Rynessa let it drown everything. Forgetting everything that happened hours ago.
But between songs, she found herself scanning the crowd, looking for someone tall and dark.
Her hand drifted to her wrist as warmth flared faintly beneath her skin. Across the dance floor, the lights flickered. Just for a second. And in the brief dark between strobes, she could have sworn she saw him.
Not clearly…just the outline. Broad shoulders, stillness amidst chaos. Facing her.
The lights snapped back on and he was gone. Her pulse thundered.
Midnight approached and somewhere beyond glass and shadow…something had awakened.
And it knew her name.