Page 88 of Mountains of Mist and Magic

“Easy enough,” Phillippe said, swinging his broadsword around, catching the reflection of the sunlight.

“What about you, Renya?”

Renya bit her lip. “Mine was about bravery.”

“Well, you have that in spades,” Phillippe quipped.

Renya's mouth curled into a half-smile. “Thanks, Phillippe. I think we should take a quick break, drink some water, and then see if we can come up with some kind of plan in case we get into trouble.”

“A signal?” Selenia offered.

“That's a good idea. Can we all whistle?” Renya asked. Phillippe let out a loud whistle and Selenia nodded. “Okay, good. If we get into a situation where we need help, whistle and we'll come.”

Selenia didn't think she had ever drunk so slowly. Even Phillippe played with his travel cake, trying to delay the inevitable. But soon there was nothing left to do but go their separate ways.

“Which path is which?” Phillippe asked.

“Mine's on the right,” Selenia said. “I just...know.”

Renya nodded. “Mine's the middle.”

“Well, I can't sense anything. So, I'm guessing I'll just take the left,” Phillippe said grudgingly.

Selenia and Renya looked at each other, and Renya pulled her tight, kissing the top of her head.

“You're my sister, Selenia. I know you can handle whatever's thrown at you. But please be careful—I love you.”

“I love you too, Sister,” Selenia responded, wiping a tear that threatened to fall.

Phillippe wrapped his arms around both of them. “We're a family—just missing Grayden. But let's go do this, and get it done—for every fae in our world.”

Selenia continued up the mountain, her stomach in knots. She knew that Renya had faith in her, but honestly, she didn't feel the same conviction for her abilities that Renya did.

Her eyes fixed upon the path; she tried not to get distracted by the unique flora lining the mossy ground. The path up the mountain was long and winding, consisting of more switchbacks and narrow passages. She walked for an hour, her entire body on edge, waiting for something to jump out of the foliage and attack.

But everything around her was still, as if it had been halted in time. She was just starting to worry that maybe she'd somehow missed the trial, or taken a wrong turn somewhere, when the path before her seemed to end abruptly. As she got closer, she realized it wasn't exactly a dead end—thick twigs and branches made up a huge thicket. Easily twice her height, the thicket was dense and sprawling, a maze of intertwined branches and thick undergrowth.

Selenia gulped as she saw a tiny entrance towards the ground, just large enough for her to crawl through. Her mind suddenly returned to the forest where she'd crawled into the Murcurial's home, only to find her dying in her bed. She quickly rid her brain of the image, instead doing her best to be unafraid.

Luckily, the passageway in the thicket was much shorter than the crawl to the Murcurial's cave. After about ten feet, Selenia came upon a huge opening, with the trees arching and bending overhead, forming a natural room. The leaves shielded the outside light, and there was only a tiny bit of light coming from the center of the wooden cage.

Towering trees, their canopies knitted tightly together, had cast a perpetual twilight over the forest floor. Beneath them, a tapestry of ferns, shrubs, and tangled vines had created a nearly impenetrable barrier. The air was rich with the scent of damp earth and the sounds of rustling leaves, distant bird calls, and the occasional snap of a twig. Patches of moss clung to tree trunks, while fallen logs, in various states of decay, formed natural bridges and obstacles. Unlike the stark, snow-covered landscapes of her homeland, this forest pulsed with vibrant life and magic, making Selenia feel both awed and slightly overwhelmed.

In the very middle of the woody maze, a large mirror, glimmering and shimmering with an ethereal glow, beckoned her forward. She stepped towards it, seeing shadows reflected back at her. However, even as she got closer, the shadows in the mirror didn't clear, remaining dusky and unknown. Selenia looked around the thicket, searching for a clue that would help her riddle out the mystery of the mirror. She was certain that this was the trial, but her eyes couldn't find anything else but the mirror in front of her. Studying it, she saw some words etched into the silver frame of the mirror: The Mirror of Reflection.

The Mirror of Reflection? What help was that? She absentmindedly moved her finger to trace over the words, and when she came in contact with the frame, the figures started swirling, and she was suddenly pulled inward, into the very mirror itself.

A rush of vertigo overwhelmed Selenia as she felt her body being stretched and compressed simultaneously. Colors swirled around her in a dizzying kaleidoscope, and for a moment, she feared she might lose consciousness. Then, as suddenly as it began, the sensation stopped. She felt nauseous as her body seemed to turn inside out, then twisting back as her feet landed on solid ground. Blinking rapidly to clear her vision, Selenia found herself on the other side of the mirror, and as she looked behind her, she could see the woods reflected in the surface, now distant and unreachable.

“What in the world?” she mumbled to herself, her voice shaky with disbelief.

Selenia jumped when a voice answered, seemingly from nowhere and everywhere at once.

“Welcome, Selenia Snowden.”

Startled, she could barely make a sound. Finally, she replied, her voice barely above a whisper, “Who are you?”

The voice, soft and feminine, sweet and inviting, gave her some calmness. “A guardian of the mountains. A keeper and protector of magic.”

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