The Mirror

“Men have wasted away before it, entranced by what they have seen, or have been driven mad, not knowing if what it shows is real or even possible.”

It was the mirror that began everything, or perhaps the mirror that ended it all....

A man stands in front of a mirror, transfixed at what he sees.

“I see a man standing alone. A crown placed upon his head; the most powerful man in the world.”

The man looks behind himself, wanting to see if what the mirror shows is reflecting what’s behind him; his fear is confirmed, it’s not.

Still, he looks into the mirror once more, searching for that completion he feels when he sees what lies within it. He grimaces as he spots his friends behind him. A lurch in his stomach tells him he is happy because of what is shown: for his friends are dead.

There’s Helga, lying on the ground. Her eyes have a lost and distant look about them. Rowina lies next to her, the same countenance on her face: deep and unaware, but clearly dead.

He feels his heart jump as he sees what’s behind her. For there, his best friend’s body is spread dead on the ground. By every wretched and awful curse possible, his friend has met his demise. He knows who murdered him, for the wand in his hand tells him it was by his own hands.

Within the mirror, he has killed his best friend and he feels no remorse; he is even glad for it.

The man shakes his head, and tries to draw himself away from the mirror. Yet, his feet don’t move. It is only when another man enters that he is able to look up from the mirror.

“Have you seen the finishing touches I have placed on our mirror?” the other man asks, pointing to the top.

Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi, Salazar reads.

“Clever, Godric,” he says, still starring at his own reflection, unable to take his eyes off the man lying dead within it.

“I show not your face but your heart's desire,” Godric whispers.

“My heart’s desire...”

Godric notices a faint distance in the way Salazar is speaking. It’s as if his friend is far away, in a land where no one can reach him, a land that lies within the mirror alone.

“May I ask you...” Godric hesitates. Salazar prays he doesn’t continue; for he knows what he is about to say.

“What do you see?”

Salazar intakes a deep breath and looks straight into the eyes of his deceased friend; wishing more than anything that glass did not separate the two worlds.

“You,” Salazar responds, looking into Godric’s deep green eyes. “The mirror reflects you and myself, best friends, the happiest men on earth.”

Godric smiles genuinely.

“You’re like a brother to me, Salazar,” Godric states. He takes a last glance at the top of the mirror and continues out of the room.

Salazar stares at the reflection, not knowing if what it shows is real or even possible.

Finally, he turns himself away from the mirror. He shivers, knowing what he must do...