The Mirror Realm

39.

She studies the book in her hand, the thick binding making an indent in her skin as she balances it in her lap. She reads through the foreign words that she's never seen before, trying to decipher their meaning.

She had taken Apollyon's advice to learn the language, but didn't know it would be this hard. Every single book in The Mirror Realm was in an unknown language, and there was no telling what meant what. She flips the rotting page, the old paper sliding against the skin of her thumb softly. She brings her hand up to rub her eye, but stops mid motion when she sees words she recognizes. The page is littered with words she knows. Her eyes flicker to the top, absorbing the contents of the page.

  The title pops out of the page at Amy, reading: Break The Cycle. Her eyes drag down to the first indented paragraph, the font so familiar to her. It almost seems as if it was handwritten. The d's, b's, g's , and j's have a curl, and all the other letters bond together in beautiful, pristine cursive.

  The spirit of Lucifer has been said to be immortal, but it can be killed. It lives off the cycle, the mantra. It rests in a female body and is resurrected in a male's. It is always the same two people who wield the power of Lucifer, never anyone different. The female weirder is one of the seventy-two spirits of Solomon, and has the power to rule over Hell until Lucifer's ultimate return...

  She pulls her head out of the reading, the handwriting becoming sloppy, but still eligible. A sudden coldness overtakes Amy's body as the book crashes to the ground, the impact echoing throughout her bedchamber. A piece of paper falls from the pages and skids across the floor and slides under the bone chair across the room.

  Amy eyes it with suspicion, but stands to retrieve it anyway. She lifts herself from the flat mattress, and carries herself over to the chair, moving it aside to reveal a piece of old papyrus. Its edges are crinkled, small rips and tears scatter the sides of the papyrus.

  Amy bends down, picking up the sheet softly, knowing of its delicacy. She flips it over, the same handwriting resting atop the surface, accept this time, its addressed like a letter.

  Amy,

  You must break the cycle, this Mantra can't go on anymore. I don't have much time to tell you the things I want to. I have to keep this short and to the point so that he doesn't find out. On coronation day, fourteen days away from when you read this, you will be the new ruler of the realm, but we can't let it happen, this cycle is killing us both slowly.
 
  On coronation day, you need to stop the cycle. Find the spell in the book, its there. I've tried to fight off this spirit for many decades, and have finally mastered how to push it out. You need to do the same, you need to control the spirit as it comes through to you on coronation day, you need to grip onto something that you remember of your past life.

  The cycle needs to be broken, and once it is, we will be free. Don't mention this letter to me, for if you do the plan will be destroyed. Please, find the spell, memorize it, do anything and everything you can to remember to say it fourteen days from now. Our lives depend on this, Amy...and you are the only one who can say it, please-

  The writing cuts off, ink covering the rest of the written words on the papyrus. There is no indication of who it's from, but Amy has a pretty good idea of who wrote it. She reads over the words again, the words of the letter becoming engraved in her mind. 

Is this what he meant by control the spirit? Amy questions, stepping away from the chair and falling back on the bed, her mind full of questions again.

  "What spell?" She goes back to the letter again, reading the line where the spell is mentioned. It says nothing of how to say it, nor if it needs anything besides a voice. She eyes the book on the floor. She kneels down to grab it, but as her hands touch the binding, a piercing agony sprouts from her back like spiky weeds from fresh soil.

  A scream erupts from her throat, and comes out in uneven increments, her legs fall weak as it feels like she's shoved back on the ground wrathfully. Cracking sounds spit from her back, as blood boils out of two holes now forming on her back on either side of her spine.

  Another scream louder than the last sounds in the room, her blood floats up to the ceiling, pooling in a large puddle. Her thundering screams and pleas are muffled by the steel door of her bedchamber. She pulls herself weakly, slowly, trying to get closer to the door and its handle. She reaches up, but her fingers fall short in length by a few inches. The cracking grows even more vociferous, the muscles and tendons in her back working together to push something out.

  Within seconds, a ripping sound floods Amy's ears, and out comes two elongated bone structures, those structures sprout their own branch like bones. The two main bones penetrated through her muscle, tearing it away completely. Blood drips down her back as all the veins in her body turn black, her eyes filling with the same blackness.

  Her screams echo and bounce off the bedchamber walls, but not a single being in The Mirror Realm can hear her.