In a void, darkly.

through the dark mirror

(All places are from the world of Konadra, the setting for my stories)

A shiver runs down your body. You are chilled even as the heat from the fire warms the room. You hadnt thought things could get any stranger than they did a few months ago. Then, the world had seemed to shatter. Like webs radiating from every person you knew. Colors pulsed along these threads, some changing even as the person talked to you. You learned quickly to focus on the person and not the colors around them. Over it all, enormous threads intersected and tangled, glowing with a light that seemed pure. Always shifting, these threads sometimes overwhelm you and you go to bed crying in pain. Most nights you could barely look in the mirror at yourself for fear of seeing the large cracks that seemed to pull at those threads of tour friends. The image in the mirror seems to be almost behind those cracks and sometimes you swear you see something within them, churning and peaking.

Today was one of the worst. A caravan had come into the Holy City. Each of these people were dressed as vibrantly as their webs were. But what really troubled you was the end of the threads at a dark part of the spiral. You had found out a month ago that that always meant death. With the colors as they were you could tell it would be soon too. They left around midday after stocking up for the desert journey. Not an hour later, guards on partol came back with stories that some kind of demon, thirsting for blood, had killed them all. 

Your heart sank. You knew they were in danger and felt guilty that you didnt warn them, didnt try to save them. You went home crying. So distraught were you, that you almost didn't notice the reflection of your mirror. In fact you walked right by it before it registered...off. slowly you turn and peer into the silver sheet. You see the room, wcactly as it has always been, but you dont see you. Puzzled you step fully in front of it and wave an arm as you dry your eyes. After you drop your arm, you notice a bit of the web, moving around the room. You remember briefly about the old wives tale about how the mirror is a gateway, but brush it off. You lean forward and peer deeper into the silver.

Suddenly a hand flies out of the mirror and pulls you in...

You open your eyes slowly. They are met with darkness. As your eyes start adjusting, you see its not just darkness. All around you, flickering light, shines in the dark. You become aware you are floating in this void,  your tether to the ground broken. You adjust more to the darkness and weightlessness, seeing threads strung throughout the void, their colors muted and greying, freyed as if ripped apart. The darkness beyond seems to move, squirming and writhing, seeming alive. You call out to the darkness, but your voice seems stolen by it, fading as quickly as it was uttered. As the hours seem to slowly flow, fear sets in. How will you excape, where will you end up? 

As you contemplate your new existence,  something catches your eyes. One of the threads move. Seeming to come closer, you start panicking. A figure forms in the darkness, tall, gaunt, misshapened and hunched. Its threads seem to almost be propelling it forward. like giant, sundered moth wings. In the void you hear a hoarse whisper: "Usurper." 

As the figure continues to approach, you start to flail, to get away, but in this environment,  you fail. The creature floats before you. You see that it seems to be made of billowing whisps of smoke and char, its body of blackened bone and chunks of flesh. Its face, or what remains of it, is palid and desiccated, but shows that it was once a handsome face, if not for the dark circles that remain around its eyes. The closer he gets, the more he seems familiar. He reaches out for you, long, thin, bony fingers mere cm from you. "Usurper of Death" the figure croaks, sounding as if he has been inhailing the very smoke that billows from him.

Suddenly, an image of a marble statue flits through your mind. The figure before you is the God of Death, Ma'koto. His once handsome features twist into emotions you can't identify in its deteriorated form. "Here you will meet your demise Usurper." The figures fingers stretch out, almost touching you. 

A blinding light fills the darkness and webs reach out into the depths of the darkness illuminating the area. Everywhere you look, you see writhing tendrils of black smoke and shadowy, desiccated bodies reach for you, for the light, pain etched onto their damaged faces. You turn your head and see a beautiful woman holding a silver spear.  Her ebony hair flowed to her shoulders, her eyes black with a hint of motion behind them. Dressed in flowing clothes, she is a grand sight, a welcomed one in this dark place. A single scar runs down her left cheek and fine scales adorn her face. All around her is a sparkling web, a web that seems to tangle with those around you, including your own. She reaches out and takes your hand. You feel yourself pulled through the void. Behind the woman you see a rectangle. She pulls you through it and stabs the spear into the mirror and you hear a dull crack. Looking behind you, you see the realm you just emerged from fade, the figure of Ma'koto yelling soundlessly at loosing you. You turn back to the woman. She smiles at you as her black eyes fade to pure jade.

"Death God Emirika," she says. "My name is Anika. I'm relieved to have found you. You have much to learn.