The crystals sang their morbid tale as the apprentice stepped at the entrance of the woods bathing in violet lights. Stars paled in comparison, minuscule chips of a single diamond worthless before the glassy shapes of rising trees. How clearly they stood out in the night, past the shapes of dull branches bearing amber leaves. Even the forest floor was paved with small, shining stones, like fruit fallen on the crystalized weeds. A cold wind from the Storm Peaks blew, carrying with it flakes of snow, barely registered by the woman staring at the thousands of polished surfaces.
The thousands of reflections.
Laughter echoed through the canopies, as much as it rose from the ground. Silhouettes danced on the glass like small nymphs trapped below. Was it them who first stretched a hand, or the elf looking at them? They were calling. She had known it all along that she would not succeed in making the crossing from Dragonblight to the other side. She had known it all along that the Other Side would claim her.
Celysiel lifted the skirt of her dress with one hand rather poorly, as if mindful of the stretching blades of sharp glass threatening the fabric. As the entrance was made, the song rose, triggering but the slightest of twitches from her ears. It was consuming the eager prey, bereft of its protector.
Frail little fawn, lost in the forest...
The voice echoed through the bright drunks, beneath the wind's hollow echo as it caressed the natural mirrors. The girl twisted as if caught in a dizzy dance, staring up in an attempt to locate the source of the ever so familiar voice.
Wounded little sparrow, caught in the snow...
Day and night did she hear it every time that her lips parted, though never disorted into this vile whisper, not when the veil was lifted. Yet no veil could conceal the entirety of the woods. Oh, she could have bypassed it, favouring the beaten path. And yet it called. And so she listened.
Has the time come that you will finally be mine?
"I cannot." Celysiel whispered to the wind. "I can never."
Yet the voice was not deterred. Laughter rose yet again from every crystal, every flat surface of the forest. The shape within each twisted, as if mimicking the lost apprentice.
You shed the armour, for once more forsook the Whisperer, the cage within the cage. You came for me.
Celysiel did not answer. Her fingers hovered onto her chest, where no trusted treasure lay. Silver and stone were absent, entrusted to nothing more worthy than a doll, a hollow likeness which had stirred what forever must slumber.
It nearly broke you.
There was no surprise in the accusation carried by the foul singer. A coat of satisfaction cloaked the laughter which followed this time, radiating its ever constant malice. The elf could not help but tremble, a slight thing below the dark furs.
"I nearly broke it too."
It has forever marked you.
Fingers travelled for once more, seeking the intact abdomen. Sharp pain did not come to wreck, yet the touch of cold below was all too different to that of Northrend. The digits shivered with hesitation, yet eventually the wrist turned, presenting nothing over the thin glove. Only a lingering sensation. A second whisper at her ears once presented as inky liquid. Life. A shard trapped below skin.
"I have marked it too." she replied softly.
If something danced by the side of the nearest rock, where the dreadful image would forever be held captive, she did not turn to look. Shades had been haunting her wherever she went, yet the one that mattered had not presented itself since their last encounter.
You come to me, the voice called once more, almost a shattered mirror, the pieces scattered.
Celysiel nodded, the fist closing. "You can fix it. As you have done before."
It rang again, that awful sound of the other's joy. Spasms shook the girl's body; now she dared not eye the crystals. The glove - the glove would do. Anything not to stare at the silhouettes. They had claimed her mind for far too long.
Where are the rest of your imaginary friends? The ones you killed? Those who left me behind?
"You hold it together, when they did not." Celysiel replied for once more, never abandoning the undeserved softness. "You have fixed it before. Fix it again. Put the pieces back together in the wrong places."
Will you bear the cracks?
She nodded.
And what will you give me?
The question was carried by nothing more than the chilling breeze. Snow descended upon the rocky floor as the apprentice's step met a halt beneath the breaking glass. That outstretched hand wavered.
What will you give me? the voice asked again.
Wilted ears met the low answer. "I have already given you enough."
What will you give me? was repeated beneath the crystal canopies.
"You will live in the glass for once more." Celysiel whispered in response. "You will be allowed to exist."
Cackling, the laugher filled the woods for once more. Was it truly the touch of the wind which reached around the elf's throat, or the pale digits of a memory lost beneath the dark waves? She closed her eyes, meeting nothing but a white pair in her mind staring.
Can you truly kill what is yours? it whispered, an eldritch symphony played through the innumerable mirrors. Lie to yourself, lost fawn. Lie to me. I will listen. I know all too well what lies below your supposed innocence.
It journeyed, that torrent, that ghostly touch preserved by the mind, its chill assaulting the apprentice's chest. Deep below, almost as if it was tearing, tugging, gripping. Celysiel's fingers reached for it, meeting neither locket, nor another hand. But that pain it was not erased. Stronger it was meant to grow beneath the malefic snicker.
Sweet sparrow, gentle sparrow, what would they say if they saw the truth of you at the other side of the mirror?
"Silence." the elf demanded, teeth clenched from pain. She was met with the same song of mockery as always.
You will shed the black and take the white. You will be mine. In time. The crystals echoed the whisper. I will travel with you beyond the veil tonight and grant your wish.
For once more, another spasm shook Celysiel's body. Trembling, she sought the black hilt, its weight reassuring against her waist. It rotated within her palm, adjusted to the liking of her grip. The Void's essence poured eagerly from its summoner, coating the dagger, ushered towards the atmosphere's pores.
Go with me and you may be lost. The voice warned. Dance on this path with me and you may never return.
"Perhaps not." she calmly whispered.
And what of those promises you so eagerly spoke?
The girl hesitated, tilting her head to the left. Strands of white broke free from the bindings of her cloak, wildly guided by the northern winds. They pointed away from the storm raging above the mountains behind her, already foreshadowing the abandonment of her original destination.
The answer to the voice's question never came vocally, yet it was very clearly conveyed through action. It almost felt as if another hand veiled her own as the blade tore through reality. All below the song of the crystals, all below the triumphant cackling of a reflection who at that night was given life.
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