The Crow Behind the Mirror_Book One of the Mirror Wars

by Sean M. Hogan

  A small golden-brown planet orbiting a red sun emerged from the darkness of space.

  They descended into the planet’s atmosphere.

  The closer Sharon got to the planet the more apparent it became this was no ordinary world. The planet was one giant tree with a tangled maze of huge roots compressed into a perfect sphere by gravity.

  “Welcome to planet Nirva,” said Sofiel as they spiraled down the great tree, passing through the planet’s blue barrier.

  Sharon slipped through the rippling blue magic like was she plunging through water. “It’s just like the Pyramid of Life’s force field.”

  “Not like Sharon, one in the same. Tuat’s Tree of Life is just a tiny cutting of Nirva.”

  They landed on an enormous root.

  Sharon stood up and took in the world.

  The sky was black despite the red star hanging above like a distant fading candle.

  A figure ahead of her caught Sharon’s gaze.

  An eight-foot-tall plant creature with long branching limbs sat meditating under the massive tree of Nirva. Dozens of blue circle tattoos covered his body and a blue crystal hung from his vine necklace.

  Sharon walked up to him.

  Light shined through a slit in the middle of his forehead. A third eye blinked open—the all-seeing eye ablaze with golden flames—the same eye as the crow’s eye.

  “After mastering The Four Pillars of Existence, Ordin fully awakened his dreaming eye,” Sofiel said, stepping to Sharon’s side. “Like none before him or since. He was able to see the true source and become one with creation.”

  Ordin stood, dwarfing Sharon, and stepped right on through her like a passing ghost.

  Sharon braced herself, throwing her arms up to shield herself.

  “Don’t be alarmed, Sharon,” said Sofiel. “These are only memories I have collected in the Dreamtime. Nothing can harm you here.”

  Ordin’s dreaming eye bloomed with overwhelming light, the rays of light radiating out like the petals of a flower. Pure energy consumed his body. His essence—the very particles that comprised his being—spread into the cosmos like drifting sand on the wind.

  “Funny, he looked like a tree-sprite just much taller,” said Sharon as the glowing particles slipped through her fingers.

  “The tree-sprites were once on the same evolutionary tree as the Elder race here on Nirva, before the ascension. Much like humans and apes.” Sofiel rested her hand against the great tree of Nirva. “Can you feel it, Sharon? Everything is connected, joined by one true source. We are all like the petals on a flower endlessly expanding but still forever part of the same entity. Nirva is a planet born of a single seed, connected by a single organism.”

  Sharon gazed out at the world of Nirva. She saw overlapping roots and spiraling trees entangling the planet in every direction.

  “Unfortunately, nothing lasts forever.” As Sofiel spoke those words the ground shook.

  The trees and roots cracked and crumbled all around them, bleeding gray as they withered and died.

  “What’s happening?” asked Sharon.

  “The great tree of Nirva was... is dying.”

  “Can’t you use your power to save it?”

  Sofiel knelt down to a small withered tree seedling and formed a blue energy circle around the dying plant. Its leaves un-shriveled and its skin turned green as it sprung back to life. “It’s true the soul’s power can perform many miracles, even help extend life.”

  “That’s why Joy was trying to find my father because he thought he had some secret to eternal life.” She knelt down to the tiny plant.

  Sofiel released the blue circle and it faded away. “There is no such thing as immortality, Sharon. Cells can be repaired and replaced, much like mending a fence. But in the end, all one can do is delay the inevitable.”

  Sharon reached for the tiny plant. The instant her fingers touched the plant it shriveled back to gray ash.

  “Fortunately, death is not the end, Sharon, just one form of change in the endless cycle of existence.”

  The Crow Boy spied from behind a tree, watching Sofiel and Sharon from a distance, observing them with golden eyes.

  “Though not all beings can accept this journey.” Sofiel pointed to the great tree of Nirva.

  Ordin was back, meditating as he had done when they first arrived.

  A featureless being of pure shadow approached him, silhouetted in the shape of a woman.

  “One such being came before Ordin on the day of his ascension,” said Sofiel. “A great demon.”

  The Featureless Shadow held out a piece of fruit and offered it up to Ordin, a golden pomegranate. Forbidden fruit offered on a silver serpent’s tongue.

  “It tempted Ordin with the many desires of the lower realms. First with food and water. Then with sex and pleasure.”

  The Featureless Shadow sculpted itself, smoothing out exaggerated feminine hips and breasts. It threw itself upon Ordin, caressing his body with many slender hands and moaning seductively in his ear.

  “Still Ordin resisted. And when the vices of avarice and want failed as well the great demon turned to the deadliest sin of all. Pride.”

  The Featureless Shadow grew tall and sprouted many heads. A crown of horns rose from each head. It became a monster—expanding like a beast rising from an ancient sea—bearing ten horns divided among each of its seven heads. The beast spewed out buzzing scorpion-tailed locusts, their chorus of wicked sounds—deafening.

  Sharon clasped her ears from the noise.

  “It spoke of destiny. Of the way things ought to be. With Ordin’s power, his power, he could end all suffering. He could save his people and his world. He could be God.”

  The beast with seven heads lunged at Ordin, rearing up like a cobra and striking, fangs bearing, seven mouths gaping. Ordin extended his hand and stretched out his finger. He touched the beast and its shadows receded, giving way to glorious light.

  The Featureless Shadow howled as the light consumed everything.

  Sharon squinted, shielding her eyes. The light gave way. She found herself next to Sofiel on a long platform floating in space lined with freestanding mirrors. Their images reflected in each one of the forty-nine mirrors.

  “Ordin defeated the great demon, splitting its power into seven great beasts of pure magic and sealing them inside the bodies of seven maidens. So that the great demon’s dark powers could be used for the betterment of all life.” Sofiel walked to a large circular platform at the far end. “Before Ordin left this reality—to preserve the knowledge and teachings of the Elder race—he instructed the Seven Maidens to create the mirrors in one final hope to reach out and connect all life. Thus, the Seven Maidens gave birth to seven mirrors each and seeded them among the seven worlds.”

  Each mirror reflected a different place and landscape. One a desert, one a lush green jungle, and one a clear blue ocean with floating sheets of ice.

  “Ordin’s dream was that through the sharing of information freely between worlds the path to enlightenment would be accessible to all.”

  Sharon stepped along the platform stopping in front of one of the mirrors. The mirror reflected a modern American city, peering through an antique store window. Cars buzzed by on a busy street. A laughing couple walked by the store window oblivious of her. She extended her hand to touch the mirror but her hand just went right through it. She sighed. “Well, it was worth a shot.”

  The mirror reverted back to normal, reflecting Sharon’s image on its glass. She turned from her reflection and moved on.

  Her reflection didn’t. It just watched her go, still as an ice sculpture, observing Sharon with cold eyes.

  “Unfortunately, the universe is a harsh and unforgiving place,” said Sofiel. “Including Nirva, there were only seven planets that could support intelligent life.”

  Sharon caught up to Sofiel on the circular platform. Seven model sized planets descended from the stars above and circled them. She spotted a familiar small blue planet: Ea
rth.

  “I believe that is your homeworld,” said Sofiel. “Earth, the birthplace of all mankind and the majority of life here.” She gestured over to a small light brown planet, not even half the size of Earth. “And this is my world, Tuat, the great desert planet.”

  A larger planet covered in ice levitated across Sharon’s line of sight.

  “Elysium, a world that once supported life, human life, but now has become a lifeless tomb of ice.”

  Elysium reminded Sharon of Winston, the spherical robot from her dreams. And how he turned to solid ice before shattering on the floor of the subway station. The sight filled her with unease. Looks like someone already ‘dropped the ball’…

  Sofiel pointed to the other planets. “Nifihel, the moon planet that orbits a gas giant and home of the Twin race. Hamistagan, the largest of the seven and most technologically advanced. Svar, the Mirror Guardians’ homeworld. And, of course, Nirva. Sadly, as we speak, the number of planets capable of supporting intelligent life has dwindled to five. And I fear things will only get worse.”

  The seven worlds went dim, like dying light bulbs, and faded away.

  “To ensure Ordin’s legacy was passed on before they died, the Seven Maidens instructed certain individuals to use the mirrors on each world. We call ourselves Mirror Guardians. My master, the Oracle, the last of the Elder race, was the first to take this title. On Ordin’s orders, it was he who brought the Tree of Life to Tuat and migrated the tree-sprites here. He taught me the ways of the soul and appointed me Keeper of the Sacred Forest and Guardian of Tuat.”

  “Khaba and Gabriel mentioned him,” said Sharon.

  “Yes, he guided Khaba, Gabriel, and Simon on their walkabout and interpreted their dreams for them.”

  “Where is he now?” Maybe he could interpret mine.

  “Most likely with the Prophet on Svar.”

  “Oh...” Just my luck. Her frustration got the better of her. “If everything is so connected how come I’ve never heard of the mirrors or those other worlds before?”

  Sofiel closed her eyes. “Because, sometimes, dreams can turn into nightmares…”

  The stars faded, and the air grew black, shrouding them in darkness.

  ***

  King Solomon stood by the window next to his bed, observing the moon sulk above the night sky.

  Nine-year-old Michelle sat on the foot of the bed, clinging to the bedpost, keeping as much distance from her betrothed as possible.

  Solomon sighed, exhaling a long-defeated breath of air that escaped his golden lips in a cloud of white. “This world is ruled by the young. The old die too soon before the gray has filled out their beards and time has withered their pride. Young men know nothing of the price of war. To them, death is some faraway phantom from a foreign land who resides in children’s nightmares and old men’s dreams.” He clenched his shaking hand, trying to subdue the tremors and failing. “Damn you, Simon, damn you to hell! You and your blasted pagan gods of a deviled skinned race of savages. I should have cleansed your wretched people from the face of Tuat when I had the chance.” He leaned against the window ledge to support his collapsing weight. “Allying yourselves with the pig-runs. Wielding forbidden witchcraft. They have truly sold their humanities. Their very souls.”

  Michelle glared at Solomon with cold, numb, spiteful gray eyes.

  He glanced her way. “Do you think me a monster? I see. Yes, it is true what they say. I am a slayer of women and children. I sent fifteen babies hurling down upon the rocks with my bare hands alone.” He gazed at his trembling hands. “I must confess, my hands are among the dirtiest. But every one of my sins was for the betterment of Tuat. They may refer to me as a tyrant but that is only because they could never see the world from my vantage point. Peace can only come from complete and total sameness. A sameness so powerful it squashes all selfish individualism and descent. We must all worship the same God and live under the same banners. We must wear the same skin and drink from the same cup of knowledge. Only then can we call one another brother. Only then will war end.”

  “If I marry you,” she said, sliding off the bed to stand tall on her own two feet. “Will you promise to keep my brother safe?”

  The sickly tyrant laughed with much pain. “So, you can talk, after all. My little princess. No, my queen.” His laughter died and he grew still. “Unfortunately, that is not a promise I can keep for long—for I am dying.” He peeled back his sleeve, revealing rotting diseased flesh.

  “Is that why you chose me?” she asked, stepping his way.

  “I chose you because of your eyes. You know the price of sin. You’ve already seen its true nature. You’ve seen the beast in all her glory and despair. Yet you still go on. Why? Why didn’t you end it all when you saw her face?”

  Solomon knelt down to her level.

  Michelle extended her hand and touched his golden mask. Closing her eyes, she read the mask with her fingertips as if she was blind. She ran the tips of her fingers past his brow, down the bridge of the nose and finally, over the lips she stopped. She spread her fingers and wrapped them around the edges of the mask and pulled.

  He grabbed her hands. “No,” he pleaded.

  “I want to look upon the face of the man I am to marry,” she whispered.

  Tears trickled down the golden mask. “Please, I beg you,” the great tyrant’s voice trembled. “After I am gone and you take my place upon the throne. Promise me you will end this war.”

  “I promise.”

  “Thank you,” he said as he wrapped his arm around her and pulled her in. “Oh God, her voice feels like fire on my skin—all seven of them—invading my mind, pulling me down into the black flames. I did everything she asked. So why? Why has everything gone so terribly wrong?” Solomon wept upon her shoulder. “I don’t want to go. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

  Solomon chanted those words over and over again as he broke down. It was an unusual sight, a tyrant turning to a child for comfort. But his tears fell on a deaf heart. Michelle felt nothing toward him, no sympathy of any kind. She was long past the reach of tears. She was just a husk, a shell of a little girl who could only read emotions on others, not experience them herself. She was as Marcus said—broken inside.

  She glanced away from the weeping tyrant. A seven-foot-tall free-standing mirror caught her attention. Their images were reflected on the glass. Though something was off about it. Solomon’s mask was different, gone was the golden human face and in its place, a featureless shadow. The candlelight flickered, casting seven shadows from Solomon’s body instead of one. The seven shadows slithered like snakes, entangling Solomon in iron chains of darkness. Even a child could see… Solomon was hell bound.

  At last, Michelle smiled. Good. If hell was real, then it meant there was somewhere to send her parent’s killer.

  “You never answered my question.” The Cloaked Man stepped forward, glancing back over his shoulder. “What do you desire? For what reason do you keep on living?”

  “Isn’t it obvious?” asked nineteen-year-old Michelle, grabbing hold of the bedpost, her long blonde hair flowing in the night’s wind, dancing about her moonlight ablaze armor, and whipping past her pale gray eyes. “I want revenge.”

  CHAPTER 25

  Emo-sha

  SHARON TRIED HER BEST to feel past the darkness.

  At last, the wall of shadows receded, giving way to a rising sun over a monolithic structure piercing a yellow-tinted sky.

  She stepped forward, the floor beneath her feet was invisible as if she was walking on a glass platform, the tower before her. Her gaze rose along the base to the tip of the dark menacing construct. Even from a distance, no more than a mile, the skyscraper dwarfed Sharon as it spiraled up past the clouds with no end in sight.

  The people below her were like ants from her vantage point. They slaved away in the hot sun hauling huge stones up the tower’s steps, adding more to the endless layers.

  Sofiel’s voice boomed out from the surround
ing shadows behind Sharon. “Like all creeds—philosophical or religious—it was inevitable there would be dissenting beliefs. On planet Svar, when the great Tower of Babel was built in honor of Ordin, a new faction took root. They would soon shake the very foundations of all our worlds to their cores.”

  The shadows engulfed Sharon once more—plunging her into darkness. Before she could open her mouth to protest, light sprang forth.

  Torches ignited by themselves, lighting along the walls and illuminating the room to not just reveal Sofiel but dozens of cloaked figures draped in crimson behind her.

  Sharon stared back, suddenly finding herself in a dark room, taking in a scene reminiscent of a demonic cult ritual.

  Butchered animal carcasses and pools of blood decorated the stone floor. The scent of death, intoxicating. Human slaves were caged like beasts in the middle of the room, encircled by the cloaked figures and a blue painted circle.

  Sofiel stepped to Sharon’s side—placing her hand on her shoulder.

  Sharon jumped back a little as her mind snapped back to focus, her anxiety swelling in the pit of her stomach.

  “They called themselves Ringmasters, wearing gold rings symbolizing their mastery over the circle—the soul—and sought to become masters of both flesh and spirit,” said Sofiel. “They became obsessed with unlocking the secrets of the soul and, ultimately, the secret of eternal life… regardless of what taboos were committed in its pursuit. Morality was seen as a needless obstacle in the quest for the truth.”

  Sharon spotted a small cloaked boy no older than ten.

  The boy had raven black hair and olive-colored eyes and clutched a large red book tightly to his breast. On the cover of the book, three circles overlapping, one red, one blue, and one black. His identical twin brother clung to the long red drapes behind him—eyes brimming with fright.

  The boy with the book took a knife from under his robes and glided the blade across his palm—drawing blood.

  The other cloaked figures followed suit.