The Mirror Tells (vingette)
PASTE


Craft Apprentice Dorms
A long, low ceiling room opens from the seating area, the walls straight and even. Cots are set evenly the length of the room, in two rows, each with its own small press at the foot, for personal belongings. Wide windows are spaced along the outside wall, letting sunlight in, while other lights are available for the night time hours.


What do you see when you look into a mirror? When Zalulia looks in the mirror before her she sees herself. Brown eyes, a nose, lips, pale skin, red hair, all traits that make her up.

What comes to mind when you think of yourself? As the apprentice harper looks in the mirror and takes in her features she can’t help but notice the shard of fear that clenches in her gut. It is not because of anything she sees, for physically the young woman looks fine. This fear is because when she thinks of herself nothing comes to mind. The chipperness, the immature behavior, her slightly pyromaniac tendencies… in the end those are only skin deep. Things like that do not /make/ a person. They won’t tell her how she would react in a crisis, what kind of human being she is, how her life will pan out.

Who is she? As she looks in the mirror and allows her mind to wander Zalulia comes to find that she does not know. This revelation is one that is met with fear. For so long she has gotten along on her carefree behavior without a care for doing anything that could be considered important. In that moment she, a girl who isn’t usually one for deep thought, can’t help but wonder. If when she looks at herself and can only see what is skin deep, if she has no idea who she is and can taste a burning hollowness beneath what she has filled with empty air, is she even living?

In that moment she is certain that the answer is no. As the harper allows herself to ponder her existence she notices that hollowness, often filled with giggles and aimless thoughts, and feels fear. She feels that void and knows of its potential to swallow her up should she allow it to grow enough to do so. Well she isn’t about to let that happen.

A slight smirk, laced with a little more bitterness than the nonexistent amount that is normally found on her face, manipulates her lips. “Something’s going to have to change.” Right now Zalulia can feel the emptiness growing and she knows that only she holds the ability to save herself.


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