Mirror (Part II)

Simon’s heart pounded — a drumbeat in the stillness.

The wettenbreathen stood before him, real and watching. Its gaze was unreadable, ancient, like the eye of a storm.

As Simon reached out, the air thickened with electric tension. He expected resistance — a cold barrier to push him back. Instead, his fingers met the creature’s form: moist, cool, and somehow… comforting.

The room began to warp. Edges blurred. Colours shifted. Reality itself seemed to pull toward the mirror like water down a drain.

The wettenbreathen’s breath strengthened, no longer a whisper but a gust, urging him forward.

Simon glanced one last time at the squalor he’d called home.

Then he stepped through the crack.

He emerged in a place beyond comprehension.

The sky was a vortex of colour — hues that had no names, no place in the visible spectrum. The ground beneath him wasn’t solid or liquid, but something in between. It bent beneath his feet, cushioning each step while propelling him forward.

The wettenbreathen moved beside him — not a shadow now, but something radiant. Its shape shifted as they travelled, becoming more elegant, more defined. Its eyes, deep and endless, beckoned him on.

Simon followed, caught between fear and wonder.

They moved through a realm of impossible beauty:

Forests of singing crystal.
Mountains that floated like kites in a windless sky.
Rivers that ran toward the heavens.

The wettenbreathen spoke without speaking — thoughts and images blooming in Simon’s mind. It told him of mirrored realms, each existing alongside his own. The crack in the mirror was no flaw, but a breach — a tear between two worlds that were never meant to touch.

These breaches were rare. Dangerous. And something had gone wrong.

Simon, the creature explained, had not been chosen by chance. Something inside him resonated with the mirror’s energy. He was a key. A natural attunement.

But keys have purpose.

To close the breach, Simon would need to face its source. A force of disruption. A thing born from imbalance.

The weight of it settled on him like a second skin. He was no hero. Just a man who worked in a petrol station, who lived alone in a damp flat, who barely scraped by.

But here, in this impossible place, that didn’t matter.

The wettenbreathen sensed his doubt. It didn’t speak — didn’t have to. Its presence wrapped around him like warmth in a frozen room. A pulse of reassurance. A thought passed gently into his mind:

Courage is not the absence of fear.
It is the choice to keep going despite it.

Simon inhaled deeply. Nodded once.

Together, they turned toward the breach.

As they walked, the realm shifted. The sky dimmed. Colours dulled. Whispers began to stir in the air. The crystalline forests cracked as they passed, and long shadows crawled over the ground.

The beauty was behind them now. What lay ahead would be different.