Part II: Extinguished Reflection
It is strange.
So very strange.
He takes a deep breath.
Cold and hot.
Chills and burns.
So it wasn’t just him, it was the strange object she slipped into the pocket.
Why then did he feel so vulnerable, like it had betrayed him, it had left him? He had this unsettling feeling in his stomach and he didn’t feel right. Even when getting back his powers, everything seemed so weird. So very weird. It was unnatural, and even though he heaved a sigh of relief when he had his powers back (no more shivering!) he was avoiding the use of it.
The others had noticed and asked, but he said it was nothing. He was fine and they shrugged it off; it was probably after what had happened that he was acting this way. They gave him his space and he appreciated it. It helped him to think.
Musing over it, he seemed to recollect something. It was a very distant memory. Lots and lots of flames, heat, and burns.
Burns.
He shifted apprehensively. And that big creature. That claimed he was Py...Pyrros, was it? Son of an Almighty one. What was that?
He researched it, even asked his sister, but they came up with nothing. Nothing at all.
The creature said it knew him. It knew him when it was much smaller. And it looked so very much like him! The tail, the wings, and even the orange scales that were scattered on his cheek and hands. It confirmed his fear that he might be turning into it and he was apprehensive.
It was strange, Mereneth thought. It was so confusing, so distant, yet so...so...familiar? It seemed to be something he knew, something hidden deep inside the dark depths of his heart and dug right out, and he was unsure of it because it had been there for so long.
Well, something along those lines.
He stands up and looks at himself in the mirror.
He looks like a normal boy. Ever since what happened, he has been dubious, and cloaks his tail and wings. His invisibility power seems to be the only one he is comfortable with using now. Didn’t he always like to be in the middle of attention?
No. You wanted to be unnoticeable.
He stares back into the mirror and starts. Did his reflection just talk to him? Or was it just him hallucinating again, or was it because this mirror was enchanted? Sometimes the house could be so unpredictable.
He suddenly notices that it is showing his full reflection; even those appendages he has cloaked. He swears under his breath, turning to look at himself.
Nothing.
The mirror shows what is there.
There is that voice again. He turns back to the mirror, eyes narrowing sharply. “What is going on?”
The reflection of him bursts into flames and he jumps, touching himself to make sure it isn’t really happening to him. What is going on? Fear takes over him, and only his curiosity compels him to stay.
That and if he ran out screaming, he’d be taken for a moron. As if she didn’t have enough grudges and complaints against him already. He was not going to give another person an advantage.
Funny. You never cared.
He gulps and looks into the mirror. It is still flaming, but he can see a figure, a very familiar figure. Something stirs in his memory.
That thing.
That thing before his hand when the flames engulfed him. That flurry that escaped.
You remember.
“Somewhat.” Now he’s talking to a mirror! If anyone passes by, they’ll think he’s crazy. He chances a glance at the door, it is closed. Thank goodness.
The image stirs. I haven’t forgotten you.
“What is with all the...” He hesitates, searching for the right words to say in his head. “Fire, the strange memories?”
The flames were your downfall. It is hardly surprising that you are apprehensive.
“It is my power!” He clenches his hand, but no fire appears in it. No. He can’t do it.
Maybe the flaming thing is making sense.
It was not your power in the first place. It is a gift you must learn to treasure.
“I could use it. I could. It was so easy, so thrilling...”
It is dangerous to play with fire.
“Is that a warning?”
The image moves and seems to shrug. It is a precaution.
“Why do I feel different? It’s just harder to want to use it.” The destruction, the pain kept flashing before his eyes as he did.
It is not a toy.
He sighs. “I’m a kid.” He says pointedly.
But you can be mature. The image says quietly and shifts its flaming face into a wry smile.
He lapses into thought. “I don’t even know what’s going on anymore, okay? It’s just...hard to adapt to all these changes.”
It is because you are growing. There is a proud tinge to its tone and the flames flutter. He groans and ruffles his hair with a hand with discontent.
“Everything is so cryptic. Like a riddle I have to solve.”
It is.
“I don’t understand puzzles! I’m not good at them!” The conversation is starting to frustrate him.
You can be good at anything if you put your mind to it.
“That’s not very reassuring when it comes from a magic fiery mirror.” He quips, folding his arms.
It laughs, a ruffled and tinkly laugh, yet it is slightly rough. The flames blaze higher, and even though he knows it can’t hurt him, he takes a few steps backward.
Once bitten twice shy, hmm?
“What...?”
Look at yourself. The flames disappear and his reflection appears again, smirking back at him, complete with the wings and tail, a flame on the end of the tail, burning. You are what you are.
“I thought you said it’s not my power.”
Not originally. But you possess it now, do you not?
He growls in frustration. “Why is everything so confusing?”
You’re changing. Everything’s changing.
He keeps silent and watches his reflection. The voice does not reply any longer.
Orange orbs are focused on the fire on his reflection’s tail.
It suddenly extinguishes with a poof, and now, all he can see is himself, a normal looking boy in black, with short red hair, looking forlorn.
It is strange.
So very strange.
He takes a deep breath.
Cold and hot.
Chills and burns.
So it wasn’t just him, it was the strange object she slipped into the pocket.
Why then did he feel so vulnerable, like it had betrayed him, it had left him? He had this unsettling feeling in his stomach and he didn’t feel right. Even when getting back his powers, everything seemed so weird. So very weird. It was unnatural, and even though he heaved a sigh of relief when he had his powers back (no more shivering!) he was avoiding the use of it.
The others had noticed and asked, but he said it was nothing. He was fine and they shrugged it off; it was probably after what had happened that he was acting this way. They gave him his space and he appreciated it. It helped him to think.
Musing over it, he seemed to recollect something. It was a very distant memory. Lots and lots of flames, heat, and burns.
Burns.
He shifted apprehensively. And that big creature. That claimed he was Py...Pyrros, was it? Son of an Almighty one. What was that?
He researched it, even asked his sister, but they came up with nothing. Nothing at all.
The creature said it knew him. It knew him when it was much smaller. And it looked so very much like him! The tail, the wings, and even the orange scales that were scattered on his cheek and hands. It confirmed his fear that he might be turning into it and he was apprehensive.
It was strange, Mereneth thought. It was so confusing, so distant, yet so...so...familiar? It seemed to be something he knew, something hidden deep inside the dark depths of his heart and dug right out, and he was unsure of it because it had been there for so long.
Well, something along those lines.
He stands up and looks at himself in the mirror.
He looks like a normal boy. Ever since what happened, he has been dubious, and cloaks his tail and wings. His invisibility power seems to be the only one he is comfortable with using now. Didn’t he always like to be in the middle of attention?
No. You wanted to be unnoticeable.
He stares back into the mirror and starts. Did his reflection just talk to him? Or was it just him hallucinating again, or was it because this mirror was enchanted? Sometimes the house could be so unpredictable.
He suddenly notices that it is showing his full reflection; even those appendages he has cloaked. He swears under his breath, turning to look at himself.
Nothing.
The mirror shows what is there.
There is that voice again. He turns back to the mirror, eyes narrowing sharply. “What is going on?”
The reflection of him bursts into flames and he jumps, touching himself to make sure it isn’t really happening to him. What is going on? Fear takes over him, and only his curiosity compels him to stay.
That and if he ran out screaming, he’d be taken for a moron. As if she didn’t have enough grudges and complaints against him already. He was not going to give another person an advantage.
Funny. You never cared.
He gulps and looks into the mirror. It is still flaming, but he can see a figure, a very familiar figure. Something stirs in his memory.
That thing.
That thing before his hand when the flames engulfed him. That flurry that escaped.
You remember.
“Somewhat.” Now he’s talking to a mirror! If anyone passes by, they’ll think he’s crazy. He chances a glance at the door, it is closed. Thank goodness.
The image stirs. I haven’t forgotten you.
“What is with all the...” He hesitates, searching for the right words to say in his head. “Fire, the strange memories?”
The flames were your downfall. It is hardly surprising that you are apprehensive.
“It is my power!” He clenches his hand, but no fire appears in it. No. He can’t do it.
Maybe the flaming thing is making sense.
It was not your power in the first place. It is a gift you must learn to treasure.
“I could use it. I could. It was so easy, so thrilling...”
It is dangerous to play with fire.
“Is that a warning?”
The image moves and seems to shrug. It is a precaution.
“Why do I feel different? It’s just harder to want to use it.” The destruction, the pain kept flashing before his eyes as he did.
It is not a toy.
He sighs. “I’m a kid.” He says pointedly.
But you can be mature. The image says quietly and shifts its flaming face into a wry smile.
He lapses into thought. “I don’t even know what’s going on anymore, okay? It’s just...hard to adapt to all these changes.”
It is because you are growing. There is a proud tinge to its tone and the flames flutter. He groans and ruffles his hair with a hand with discontent.
“Everything is so cryptic. Like a riddle I have to solve.”
It is.
“I don’t understand puzzles! I’m not good at them!” The conversation is starting to frustrate him.
You can be good at anything if you put your mind to it.
“That’s not very reassuring when it comes from a magic fiery mirror.” He quips, folding his arms.
It laughs, a ruffled and tinkly laugh, yet it is slightly rough. The flames blaze higher, and even though he knows it can’t hurt him, he takes a few steps backward.
Once bitten twice shy, hmm?
“What...?”
Look at yourself. The flames disappear and his reflection appears again, smirking back at him, complete with the wings and tail, a flame on the end of the tail, burning. You are what you are.
“I thought you said it’s not my power.”
Not originally. But you possess it now, do you not?
He growls in frustration. “Why is everything so confusing?”
You’re changing. Everything’s changing.
He keeps silent and watches his reflection. The voice does not reply any longer.
Orange orbs are focused on the fire on his reflection’s tail.
It suddenly extinguishes with a poof, and now, all he can see is himself, a normal looking boy in black, with short red hair, looking forlorn.
1052 words
