This story is based on an image by Yvan Feusi. As soon as I was shown it, I was hit with so many different possibilities for what this could be, and I love the description that the artist gives it on the DeviantArt page. I wanted to go somewhere a little different with it though, so came up with this. There was a place, far to the north, where there was a barrier. Nobody knew how it had gotten there, or who might have constructed it, but none could deny its presence. A vast mirror that stretched from coast to coast, and climbed higher than any could reach – at least, nobody had been able to find the top.
To most, it reflected them and the snowy landscape around them. It was an oddity, that everybody wanted to see once, but most then put out of their mind. There were stories about it – myths about its creation, but nobody remembered if any were true, or just fancies of the mind and history. Some said that it was a gift from the gods – others followed this up by asking what it was supposed to achieve. Some said it was simply a freak of nature, that here such a thing existed. In truth, nobody knew and most didn’t care, or concern themselves with the Mirror. Elizabeth was different. Not in her level of knowledge – like everybody else, she had no idea where the Mirror had come from. She didn’t know if it had come from the gods, or if it had just appeared from nowhere. Her personal theory was that it had been some great act of magic in a bygone age that none could remember. It didn’t really matter where it had come from. She had visited it more than once, always feeling pulled to it. She didn’t know why, or if there was anybody else that felt the same kinship with it that she did. She travelled north at moments in her life when she felt lost, that she didn’t know what to do, or how to react. She went to the Mirror or, more precisely, to her reflection. Elizabeth didn’t see the same things in the Mirror that others saw. Where they saw themselves reflected, she saw a reflection of herself. To her, the reflection she saw was her, but also not. The cold of the snowy landscape, similarly, was fire and ash in the reflection. Her pale skin was dark and burned when viewed in the Mirror and, if she touched it, she could speak with the other her. This reflection of her had its own life, its own friends, its own problems. And yet, somehow, whenever she needed to speak to her, she was there with a problem of her own that she wanted to discuss. The two of them had shared stories, secrets, and advice. They were, in a strange way, each other’s best friend and closest confidante. Even though they could only speak in that one place. As she approached the Mirror, she saw the Ashlands in it, and her other self approaching the Mirror from the other side. As always, when one of them needed to speak, the other found within herself that same need. They each sat on their own side, she on the snow and the other on the ash. They reached out to touch it and the air stilled, as the two halves of the world, the two halves of herself, made contact. “It’s good to see you,” said Elizabeth. “I love you what you’ve done with your hair.” It seemed silly to complement something that was simply a reflection of herself and her own stylistic choices, but she could never be completely sure which of them was a reflection of the other. Ash-Elizabeth smiled at her and moved a hand up to her long hair, running her fingers through it. “You really think so? I think it’s too long – keeps getting in my way. I tell you, long hair is a serious fire hazard when you walk around volcanoes.” Elizabeth chuckled. Probably her decision in this case. “How are things on your side?” She didn’t want to get straight into her problems. It wouldn’t be very friendly to make it look like she only came to talk when she needed help. It was true, but it wasn’t friendly to make it obvious. Ash-Elizabeth shrugged, dropping her hair. “Oh, you know. Hot. Dusty. I’m pretty sure my boyfriend is trying to kill me. So, same old thing.” Elizabeth raised one hand to her mouth, being sure to always keep one on the Mirror, one always in contact with the other her. “Jason is trying to kill you? What makes you think that?” “Beat’s me,” Ash-Elizabeth replied, idly scratching at her leg. “You know how it is – you just sometimes get that feeling?” “No,” said Elizabeth, “I’ve never had that feeling.” “Oh, yeah – of course not. Well, it’s just a feeling. I’ve learned to trust them though. Guess I’ll have to ditch him. Or, you know, kill him first. If he’s already angry about something, dumping him might just make him more determined. You know?” Elizabeth shook her head, despairing. If she knew her Ash-self, she was pretty sure that she would have done something to cause this. She didn’t actually doubt it was true – her other self’s instincts were good, and she’d relied on them before, and her side of the world was a much harsher one than her own but still… “Are you sure you haven’t done anything to upset him? He always sounded so nice. I mean, not nice in a really nice way, but nice for your side.” “Oh, you know. Drama. He thinks I slept with his brother.” Ash-Elizabeth sounded bored, but Elizabeth knew hew well enough to know that this was just how she was. She was actually seeking advice – just as they always went to each other for help. “Did you?” “Technically.” “Technically?” Elizabeth’s voice was incredulous. “Well, it didn’t last very long. I don’t think it should count.” Elizabeth smiled at her other self and picked up a handful of snow. She threw it at the Mirror, know it wouldn’t get any further than that, but the sentiment was what counted. “Talk to him. Don’t kill him, and don’t ditch him. Well, not for this, anyway. Ditch him if you don’t want to be with him anymore, but not for this.” “So, you think this is my fault?” “I didn’t say that. It’s up to you who you sleep with, however long it might take. But surely even you can see how it might have upset Jason? I mean, he shouldn’t be trying to kill you – he should be talking to you too.” “People don’t really talk about this kind of thing on my side.” Elizabeth gave a wry smile. “They don’t on this one either, not as much as they should. We don’t go around killing each other though.” Ash-Elizabeth took on a resigned expression. “Alright – I’ll try it. Now – what’s up with you?” “Work is getting me down. I got passed over for promotion again.” “Again?” Ash-Elizabeth’s expression was clearly showing anger now, on her other self’s behalf. Elizabeth had always been much slower to reach such emotions. “Who this time?” “Amanda. Mike picked Amanda. And I know I’m better than her – she only got it because she’s sleeping with him.” Ash-Elizabeth smiled. “Easy answer then. Sleep with Mike.” Elizabeth shuddered. “I can’t do that?” Ash-Elizabeth took on a sympathetic expression – it looked somehow wrong on her. “Does he really look that bad? Ok – just kill Amanda then.” Elizabeth sighed. “I can’t do that either. We don’t just kill people here. And it’s nothing to do with his looks, or who he is. He’s quite nice really. But if I do that, and I get the promotion, I’ll never know if I really deserved it.” Ash-Elizabeth threw up her free hand. “So?” Elizabeth sighed. It always went like this. Her other-self was good as a sounding board, rather than an advice giver, but something useful usually came out eventually. “So, that’s important to me. I want to know I’ve earned it.” Ash-Elizabeth lowered her hand in a placating gesture. “OK – so you can’t kill Amanda. You can’t sleep with Mike. I assume you can’t kill Mike either?” She actually waited for Elizabeth to indicate that the assumption was correct. “Well, then – there’s only one answer left.” “What’s that?” Elizabeth asked, dreading what might be coming next. “You won’t like it.” “It can’t be worse advice than killing everybody.” “You’ll need to talk to him.” Ash-Elizabeth gave a wide smile and Elizabeth realised that she’d been building to this all along. All of the talk about killing and so forth had just been preamble. “You’ll need to make yourself look your best – probably best to cut the hair much shorter, just saying – and be as confident as you can be and then march into his office, tell him that you deserve that promotion more than Amanda does and insist that he give it to you, or you’ll leave.” Elizabeth’s mouth opened. “I can’t do that. What if he doesn’t give it to me?” Ash-Elizabeth laughed. “If you are half as good as you tell me you are, he’ll not want to lose you – he’ll give you the promotion.” The two of them were quite for long moments as Elizabeth let the idea sink in. Her other half was right – she was good. She did deserve it. She had to insist on it. She looked up and smiled into the Mirror. “Thanks,” she said, and the other Elizabeth said it at the same time. “Until next time?” asked Ash-Elizabeth. Elizabeth nodded. “Until next time.” They both smiled at each other as, at the same time, they dropped their hands from the Mirror’s edge, losing contact with each other, and stood to walk away. Elizabeth never looked back to see the moment where Ash-Elizabeth would disappear, and she assumed that the other shared that reluctance. But they would always be there for each other. Elizabeth smiled as the snow fell – just as she always did after speaking with herself.
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