Reflections

People say you should face your demons, but I never imagined mine would look so much like me.

. . . . .

The trickling sound grew louder with every step. Graham was tempted to run to it, but caution told him there might still be more traps. So, he ventured forth, step by careful step. Finally, the path opened up into a room full of water. It tumbled out of holes in the walls and gathered in several pools. On the far side was a door, though there wasn’t a clear way to get to it. He’d have to wade through the pools.

He knelt and scooped water into his hands, drinking greedily. The yellow moss that lit the hallways was present here, as well. Some even floated on the water’s surface, shedding a shimmering light on the water.

Graham gulped down the water until he was satisfied, then splashed his face and scrubbed away the dirt that’d accumulated in the past day. “I really need to find something to use as a canteen. I can’t keep going without water for so long.” He wiped his face off with his shirt.

Besides the pools, there wasn’t really anything of interest within the room. “Just press forward, I guess?” The path he was on stopped about halfway into the room, where he’d have to wade through the largest pool to reach the other side. He stopped at its edge and took a breath. “Guess there’s no choice, I’ll have to get a bit wet.”

His eyes widened and he took his shirt off, then tossed it to the other side. “There.” He grinned. “I can keep my clothes dry like that.” His hands rested on the waist of his pants for a second. He frowned. “There’s no one around. Might as well keep everything else dry.” He slipped his shoes off then stripped, tossing them all to the other side.

He grit his teeth and took a step in. “Nothing to be embarrassed about. This is the logical thing to do. If I let my clothes get wet, I might catch a cold, and out here that could be a death sentence.”

So, really, this was the best choice, no matter how ridiculous and exposed he felt. Perhaps it was the happiness at finding water, but there was one thing he hadn’t considered. That there might be something else in it.

He was knee deep when something brushed across his foot. He flinched but kept going. Maybe it was some of that moss, sunken to the bottom? Hip-deep; something flashed past his thigh and he couldn’t ignore it anymore. It had left a deep cut on his thigh, the blood oozing into the water like ink.

He grimaced and threw himself forward, determined to cross as quickly as possible. Ripples formed on the water and he received more cuts. Suddenly, a fish launched out of the water, like a silver blade with stripes of green, and aimed for his head!

Graham ducked into the water, but the sudden movement cost him his footing on the slippery stones of the pond. He kicked and flung himself through the water, trying to protect himself with the shield, but the bladefish danced around it. He struggled to make it back to land, but the shield dragged through the water and slowed him. “I should’ve thrown this to the other side, too.”

Finally reaching the other side of the pool, he pulled himself out of the water. Small cuts all over him dripped blood, staining him with streaks of red. And still, the fish didn’t leave him be. They leapt out of the water, aiming for him and forcing him to shield himself as he picked up his clothes.

Luckily, now that he was on land, he could much better utilize the shield. There was a loud ding every time he blocked one of the torpedo-like fish. When they fell on land, they could easily flop back into the water and launch themselves again. “Damn these things.” He flinched as one slipped past the shield and left a cut on his shoulder. “If I don’t get out of here soon, I’ll bleed to death!”

There was no time to clothe himself so he gathered them up and ran for the door, batting fish away with his shield. He opened the door, just about to throw himself through, and yelped as a fish bit into his ass! “Son of a bitch!” he shouted, closing the door behind him. He reached back and pried the little bastard off, tossing it on the ground like he’d just made a touchdown.

Face twisted with horrible anger and red with humiliation, he slammed the shield down on the flopping fish, over and over, until he was satisfied it was good and dead. He collapsed to his knees and groaned. “Fuck everything! Just… fuck everything. I’d be glad to be a Seeker, but this isn’t how I imagined it happening!” He pushed his sopping hair back out of his eyes. “I never want to see another fish in my life!”

He shook himself like a dog to dry himself a bit. “Who the fuck put those things in there, anyway? What kind of sick bastard would do that?” Grabbing his shirt, he pressed it against one of the deeper cuts, wincing at the contact. “I should’ve brought that fruit with me,” he said.

He had kept it in his jacket pocket, and the jacket was with Robin. He’d been in such a hurry due to the time constraints, he’d forgotten to grab it. Graham sat against a wall and looked around this new room. The most notable thing was the large mirror opposite to him mounted on the wall, which reflected his miserable appearance. A sad, wet, naked man covered in cuts, like he’d just been rescued from a torture chamber. He looked away from the unpleasant sight.

“Certainly doesn’t do much for my self-image,” he thought. After waiting a few minutes to dry off somewhat, he slipped his clothes back on. He had to go slow to avoid irritating his wounds. Every movement made a cut stretch and he could feel the two sides separating. It wasn’t pleasant. He frowned, looking down at himself. “All my clothes are gonna be covered in blood stains.”

He shook his head and approached the mirror. There was no door leading out of the room, only the one he’d come from, and he wasn’t keen on going back at the moment so it seemed to be his best bet to move forward. The mirror was taller than him and thrice as wide. “There’s gotta be something about it… something that’ll let me progress.”

It was in a wooden frame, painted gold. Intricate designs were carved into the wood. Graham gulped. “More sigils? I wish I knew how to recognize them.” He glanced at his arm, wondering if the mark there would give him any insight. It had changed back to the numeral. He clicked his tongue.

Peering into the reflection, he saw the door open behind him. “Fuck!” He spun but found nothing. Literally. The door was gone. “This again?!” He rubbed his forehead and sighed. The door was still there—open—in the mirror but in reality it was missing, replaced by a stone wall.

Graham grit his teeth and reached for the mirror. “I’m gonna regret this.” He braced himself for the pain that would surely come. Looking himself in the eyes, his hand came to rest on the glassy surface. His reflection blinked.

Robin stirred and awoke to the sight of blue fire. She sat up, causing the jacket draped over her to slide to her lap. “Oh? This is Graham’s, right?” She smiled. “That’s nice of him. I guess I really was lucky to run into these two.” She hadn’t been able to sleep soundly when she was with James and Gloria. They’d started out nice enough, but after that encounter… well, they’d changed. She shivered and shook her head. “Best not to think about it.”

Orion was up and pacing around the room. Graham was nowhere in sight. “Did he find a way out?” She frowned. “No, they probably would’ve woken me if they had.” She raised a hand, gingerly, and called out, “Um, Orion?”

He stopped and looked at her. “You’re awake. Good, that’s good.” He looked this way and that, rubbing a hand over his mouth.

Robin watched him. “He’s acting kind of strange. Maybe I should—” She gasped quietly, grasping her side. “Ow, no, no! Not now! Please!” She clenched her hands on her side, squeezing tight and keeping a subtle eye on Orion to make sure he wasn’t looking. The thing squirmed and writhed under her grip, sending sparks of pain through her chest. Slowly, it stopped, the pain subsiding.

Orion hadn’t noticed, having spent the past couple seconds muttering to himself. “Thank God. I can’t let them notice. Not yet,” she thought.

Orion sighed heavily and approached, lowering himself onto one of the seats. He cleared his throat. “Graham touched one of the doors. It forced him to enter. I don’t know what’s happening to him. I don’t know if he’ll come back.”

Robin paled. “Oh my God,” she whispered. “Is he going to be okay? Did you see what was behind the door?”

“I don’t know and no. I gave him my shield and he had those spikes of his so he may have a chance against whatever is there, but there’s no way to be certain. More importantly, don’t touch any of the doors, they may force you to enter.” He lifted his arm, showing her his mark. “Something on the door seems to interact with these marks, though I’m not sure how. I think Graham knew more than me, but he didn’t have time to explain.”

Robin raised her own arm, checking that her mark was still the same as the last time she saw it. VII, the numeral for seven, lay within a circle of strange characters. She sighed, placing a hand on her chest. She looked up, biting her lip. “So… w-what do we do?”

Orion shrugged. “Wait.”

Robin wrung her hands. “I-I see. But, how long? And what if he doesn’t come back?”

He frowned. “We can afford to wait a few hours, at least, but I’ve been thirsty for a while. I’ll wait until I can’t stand it anymore, then I’ll try a door.”

Robin nodded. “Okay. I’ll do th-the same.” They were silent, staring at the fire. Robin played with her fingers, unsure of what to say to this imposing man. He didn’t really seem the talkative sort. Her stomach growled and her eyes widened a moment. “Was that…?” Her hand brushed her side, but there was no movement. She sighed. “No, I guess it was just me. I haven’t eaten yet.”

She reached for a tuber and one of the sticks Orion had brought in for firewood—which had turned out to be completely unnecessary due to the magical fire—then set the tuber over the fire to cook.

Orion cleared his throat. “So… Gloria taught you how to find food out here? Got any tips? Y’know… for when we get out of here.”

Robin blinked. “Oh! Um, yes, I think so…” She tapped her chin, looking to the side. “There was this plant with purple leaves and red veins. It was some kind of spice and it tasted pretty good with these tubers. Then there that tree with the spongy bark that you could eat. It wasn’t very good.” She squinted. “And… something else… but I can’t remember.”

She shifted her legs, causing the jacket in her lap to fall off. A fruit rolled out its pocket. Her eyes widened as its aroma drifted up to her. Her blood pumped and her mouth watered. She swallowed her spit and looked away, placing the fruit back in its pocket. “She didn’t say anything about this, though.” She looked at Orion. “Where did you find it?”

“Not me. Graham.” He leaned back and clasped his hands. “On some hill that had a tree with blue leaves and black bark, from what I gather. He’s a lucky bastard. Well… maybe not that lucky.”

Robin raised a brow. “He’s not?”

“Remember how I told you Graham had been attacked by that bear before? Well, that hill is where he got those holes in that jacket.”

Robin picked it up, poking a finger through one of the holes. There was dried blood around the edges. She grimaced. “I can’t imagine how much that hurt.” A lot would be her guess. She certainly wouldn’t want to imagine it.

Orion chuckled. “And before that, he was attacked by some kind of vine monster.”

Robin’s breath hitched, like something was wrapping around her chest and squeezing the life out of her. She clutched her chest until the feeling vanished.

“Even lost his shoe to the thing,” Orion continued.

Robin laughed weakly, a hand pressed to her side.

Graham’s blood froze. He backed away from the mirror. “That’s very not normal.” Your reflection couldn’t blink. Rather, you wouldn’t see it, as your eyes are closed while blinking. The eerie display didn’t stop there. The reflection wasn’t copying his movements anymore. It reached out of the mirror, the glass rippling like water and offering no resistance. Graham’s breath hitched as the entire reflection stepped out of the mirror. A perfect copy of him, down to every scratch.

He tensed, observing the doppelganger closely. “What do I do? Should I… should I kill it?” He gulped. “Can I?” The Copy stood tall, chin raised, meeting Graham’s gaze. Graham reached for a spike, preparing himself to attack if should need be.

The Copy smiled. “No need for that, Graham,” it said with his voice. Graham flinched and brought the spike to his front, supporting it at the base with his other hand. He could stab with more force that way.

“Look, just tell me how to get past you,” Graham said, his eyes narrow. “This is some kind of test, right? What are the rules?”

The Copy clasped his hands behind his back. “No test. No rules. The only way out is the way you came. You’ve come to a dead end, Graham. Not that I expected more from you.”

Graham frowned. “The exit’s gone. It’s just a blank wall, now. What do you expect me to do? Break it down?”

Copy sighed. “Are you blind? Perhaps mother should have bought you glasses.” He turned. “See there? In the mirror? The door is open, isn’t it?” It was.

Graham bared his teeth. “Don’t act like you know my Mom! You’re just some kind of apparition. And that open door in the mirror is just an illusion or something.” He grabbed the shield and quickly strapped it to his arm.

“You don’t want to fight me, Graham. You’re no good at it. Now if it were Orion… I might be a little scared.”

Graham’s brow furrowed. “If Orion were here, you’d be a reflection of him, not me.” He took a breath and looked around. “The mark told me to be aware of my surroundings. Maybe there’s something that can help me?”

Copy smirked. “And you’re so sure of that? That I’m just an illusion? Not so, Graham. Not so. I am you. The better you. What you could have been if you’d used your full potential.” He spread his arms. “This room? Only one of us can leave. So I hope you enjoy your new home.” He turned back to the mirror.

Graham’s jaw fell. “I have to stop him!” he thought. He charged forward, shield raised. Copy spun and swept Graham’s legs out from under him. He fell to the floor in a clatter. Copy grabbed one of his own spikes and stabbed down. Graham rolled to the side and regained his feet, facing his foe warily.

He gulped. “Alright, maybe he’s not an illusion. This is concerning.”

“Hmph, seems you’re reactions aren’t that bad. Just a second slower and I’d have skewered you,” Copy said. He squeezed his spike, making a cut on his arm ooze blood. As a perfect copy, he also had the same wounds as Graham. He licked the blood off, grimacing. “If I’d been the one going through the traps, I wouldn’t have these. Can’t you see that you’re inferior? I’m the one that deserves to leave. Just set down your weapons and let me slit your throat. It’ll be easier that way.”

Graham snarled. “You can go fuck yourself! You keep saying you’re a better version of me, but you don’t act like me at all!” He took a breath, calming himself. “I’m getting out of here, even if I have to kill you.”

Copy balked. “You kill me?! You don’t have what it takes. Every time a sect came to Attela for recruitment, you signed up and failed. You’ve always wanted to be a Seeker, but you couldn’t do it, could you?”

Graham flinched.

“But I could have. If it were me, I’d be a Seeker already and this wouldn’t even be a contest! If it were me, I wouldn’t have wasted that money Dad gave us to start a business. I would’ve done my research so I wouldn’t get sued!”

Graham grimaced. “I—how could I have known that would—” He pursed his lips and shook his head. “Stop, that’s not what this is about. Focus! I have to get to that mirror. If he can walk through it then maybe I can, too.”

“—and Melissa wouldn’t have left me. You loved her so much, but she didn’t care about you. It was me—what you could have been—that she was attracted to. And when she realized that you would never be me—”

“Shut up!” Graham said, tossing one of his spikes. Copy side-stepped it. Graham charged, but Copy didn’t move. Their shields clashed and Graham was stopped. He pushed against Copy, but Copy pushed just as hard back.

Copy leaned over his shield and whispered in Graham’s ear. “Oh, no you don’t, Graham. You’re not getting past me.” He pushed harder and Graham began to slip backward. Copy’s knee surged forward into Graham’s thigh, right where he’d been cut. Graham gasped and lost strength in his leg. Copy pushed him down and straddled him, getting in a few good punches before Graham threw him off.

Before Copy could right himself, Graham bashed him in the head with the edge of his shield. Copy shouted and clutched his forehead as blood began to spill over his eye. Graham laughed, hoarse, and tongued the split in his lip. “Not so great now, are you?”

Copy frowned. “Just a fluke.” He stood, taking a low stance. “It won’t happen again. You know you can’t beat me.”

Graham exhaled slowly. “I don’t have to beat you. Just make it to the mirror.” His eyes flickered to the silvery glass. “I can do this.”