Avelle, Bradley and Phoenix were ready to face the mirror. They went back to the cave in silence. It was exactly as Avelle had left it.
"So you see," began Bradley. "The mirror shows who you need most. Maybe we have been thinking about this incorrectly the whole time."
Avelle gasped in realization. "You need yourself before you need someone else."
"And we don't need anyone to complete us. We are a whole person on our own," finished Phoenix.
Bradley looked at the mirror and struck a pose. His ears grew pointier.
"Wow," Bradley remarked. "That is pointy."
Phoenix went next. She grew magnificent feathered wings. Her wings were bright red and pink. Avelle thought they kind of looked like a phoenix's wings, fiery and alive.
Avelle looked into the mirror. She remembered all of her silly attempts at trying to become 'complete' with someone else. Other people were supposed to complement or reflect you, not complete you. And once Avelle learned that, she was complete. And once she was complete, she grew her wings.
Black wings. Parts of her wings were blacker than obsidian. Others, a shade of brilliant silver. And every so often, a purple feather. This was who she was. And she didn't need anyone else to complete her.
Avelle could feel the tears streaming down her cheeks. After all that time thinking that she needed to find a soulmate to complete her, she felt liberated. She didn't need anyone to complete her. She was her own person. And that feeling, of wholeness, was the best feeling that she had ever felt.
She could have stayed there all day, clutching the mirror tightly and feeling good about herself, if it weren't for the interruption of someone else.
"Are you done with that?" said the other person. "There is a line waiting to look at it."
Avelle passed the mirror to the other person. "Whoa," they sighed as they looked into the mirror. "That is awesome." They proceeded to go into the nearby river and grew their mer tail. "That was the most brilliant feeling I have ever felt."
"I know right," sighed Avelle.
"That is no excuse to hoard the mirror all to yourself."
"No," said Phoenix, "It isn't. Remember to share, Avelle."
YOU ARE READING
The Mysticals: Fly
FantasyFourteen year old Avelle is an orphan who has to live in the horrible orphanage conditions. When a witch offers to take her on an adventure to a brand new world, Avelle accepts. Now, in order to gain membership to this new world, Avelle has to play...
