Mirror

Prologue

Today was possibly the most important day in the history of the Fracteal Empire. Today, seven day-old Ash would be blessed by Saint China of Cruth. She would be the first ever monarch to be blessed a Saint. Yet today was the worst day of Empress Aspen's life. She didn't want this for her daughter. She wanted Ash to grow up as normally as possible. The pressure of being the Empress would be too much already without possessing unearthly powers.

"If I wasn't so weakened after bearing a child," Aspen said to herself through gritted teeth as she tottered to the balcony with her daughter in her arms, "I would save you from this cursed fate."

Aspen's sleeping quarters sat high above the rest of the castle, much as a bird would perch loftily on the highest branch of a tree. Her balcony faced the east, so the Empress could watch the sunrise every morning.

Wind whipped her rich chocolate hair into her face, and stars still speckled the indigo sky. Ash stirred in her arms as the chills crawled across their skins. Yet, dawn would come soon, and they would take her Ash away for them each to get prepared for the ceremony at midnight.

Aspen gripped the marble rail, forcing herself to set her gaze down upon the sights below, despite the dizzying height. The houses in Blaik, which was the richest, central-powered kingdom, were relatively big, each adorned with polished, black shingles and constructed of wood painted in soft, pastel colors. Of all the kingdoms except Tundira, Blaik was the most advanced, as the people used new wonders such as and self-wound watches and zippers and electric kettles (though they fell back to horse-drawn-carts and hand-written letters to preserve tradition on holidays and at rituals). Candles were beginning to be lit as dawn approached.

A soft knock on the door echoed through the room like a whisper. My ladies are here already?

"Cough, I don't feel good today," she croaked, "Come back later."

"It's me, Cedar," said a soft voice outside the door, "I know you're faking that."

Aspen sighed, shut the doors to the balcony and flopped onto the bed. Baby Ash, miraculously still sleeping, curled up in her mother's arms, snoring softly.

The door opened, and a man of nearly thirty years stepped in. He wore just a cream, cotton shirt and jeans. One would not readily believe him to be a king, much less an emperor. But Aspen couldn't look at him.

She stretched her arms and yawned, "I was just sleeping peacefully, before you came and woke me up."

Cedar didn't move. Aspen was facing the wall, but she could imagine him smiling in amusement at her.

"Go away," she said flatly.

"You're gonna need more than tricks and ill-mannered words to make me leave your side," he said, "How is Ash?" Aspen felt the bed sink a little bit as Cedar sat down.

"That's none of your business," Aspen snapped, "You gave up your daughter long before she was born, when you decided to turn her into some mystical, magical goddess. You that will ruin her life. Being the heir to the throne is enough pressure. She doesn't need people banging on her door, begging her to heal them and bring them food as well."

"You won't even let me see her? Aspen, you're over-reacting. Just think of all the people she can help," Cedar whispered, "No Saint has ever been so high in power. It's greedy not to share it with the world." Aspen felt his hand touch her arm, but she slapped it away.

"My best friend was a Saint," she said hoarsely, "And he lost his powers all of a sudden and died soon after."

"You're thinking of Coal, aren't you," Cedar said quietly, and Aspen knew she'd hit a nerve. Cedar's weight left the bed.