Reflection: The Stranger in the Mirror
Records of the Ohanzee Book 1
By Rachel R. Smith
Text Copyright © 2015 Rachel R. Smith
Cover by West Coast Design
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
This is a work of fiction. All characters, places, and events are imaginary. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
ISBN 978-0-9963892-0-4
12082015
To my mom, the one who encouraged me to turn my daydreams into a book in the first place.
Table of Contents
Chapter 1-The Heiress of Chiyo
Chapter 2-Shatter
Chapter 3-An Urgent Message
Chapter 4-The Clever Prophetess
Chapter 5-Late Again
Chapter 6-Masquerade
Chapter 7-A Rose Among Roses
Chapter 8-The Phoenix Takes Flight
Chapter 9-Proof
Chapter 10-Memorial Stones
Chapter 11-The Hidden City
Chapter 12-Spring Flowers
Chapter 13-The Records of the Ohanzee
Chapter 14-Treasures
Chapter 15-A Pleasant and Unpleasant Surprise
Chapter 16-Not One of Them
Chapter 17-The Stranger in the Mirror
Chapter 18-Rose Tea
Chapter 19-An Oath in the Moonlight
Chapter 20-The Other Student
Chapter 21-Creeping and Crawling
Chapter 22-Full Moon
Preview of Records of the Ohanzee Book 2
Supplemental Material-Prologue
List of Characters
An optional prologue that provides background information for the main story is available in the back of the book. Jump to the Prologue by clicking here, or continue directly to Chapter 1.
Chapter 1
The Heiress of Chiyo
"What harm could possibly come from reading a book?" Nerissa scoffed. She ran her fingers eagerly over the creviced cover of the aged book in her hands. "None at all," she finished, not waiting for her friend and fellow conspirator to answer. She turned the book to examine the binding with greedy fascination.
Charis was quite familiar with her friend's rant. It was repeated each week without fail when she brought new books. "Don't get attached, I told you that one wasn't staying! It’s not like you don't have enough books already." Charis chided her gently, looking for a way to distract her enthralled friend. "I don't think all of these will fit in the usual hiding place. Where are you going to put them?"
The question successfully pulled Nerissa from her rapture. She paused for a second, eyeing the stacks with one eyebrow raised, and her lips twitched to one side in thought. "The only ones they will have a problem with are the scientific texts that were written in Marise. This mathematics text is a little thick, but I think all four will still fit in the usual spot. You're right though," she said with a doleful sigh, "I really ought to put them away before someone comes by."
Now successfully distracted, Nerissa set down the object of her fascination, pulled up the loose stone tile in the floor, and began nestling the four taboo books into their hidden nook. Charis seized the opportunity and scooped up the discarded volume, cradling it in her arms.
"I’m the Heiress of Chiyo, yet I’m reduced to hiding books from my parents in a hole in the floor. Honestly, I don't see why I should have to go to such lengths," Nerissa complained. "Ugh, this one isn't going to fit!" She removed the topmost book and began rearranging the others to make more room. Noticing Charis' silence and fearing she may have sounded ungrateful, Nerissa quickly continued, "I am ever indebted to you for smuggling these in for me week after week. Do they really think that we can ignore Marise's development forever? Even if we don't utilize their technology, at the very least, we should understand it!" Her ramblings trailed off as she noticed Charis wasn't paying attention. Nerissa looked up, still half-bent over the hiding spot. Her viridian eyes glinted with suspicion from between long locks of golden-brown hair that had fallen in front of her face as she went about her sly work.
Charis had barely made it halfway to her book bag. She didn’t realize she had been caught until Nerissa peeped over her shoulder and pointed to a nondescript flap on the ancient book's binding. It was hardly noticeable without close inspection, but few details ever escaped Nerissa's sharp eyes. "What is that for anyway?" she asked.
Charis faltered, "I-I'm not sure. I think I remember seeing a crystal inside there when I was little, but it's not there anymore."
"I hope it didn't break," Nerissa remarked casually. "It's very odd to see a crystal embedded in a book. I've seen them in nearly everything else but never a book."
Charis had no idea exactly how or when it had happened, but somehow Nerissa had regained possession of the book from her.
Nerissa pulled aside the airy curtains that surrounded her bed and sank into a mountain of aqua and ivory pillows. Charis settled in opposite her and leaned back against the curving lattice that spanned the two thick posts at the foot of the bed.
"It's certainly rare now, but maybe it was more common in the past. There are so few books this old that it would be hard to know for sure," Charis pointed out. Nerissa's response was a distracted hum and nod of agreement as she skimmed through the yellowed pages.
"Which reminds me...have you heard about all the crystals around town that have shattered?" Charis asked casually.
Nerissa's head snapped up from the book in her lap to meet her friend's hazel eyes. "Shattering? On their own? Are you sure?"
Charis nodded. "I haven't seen it happen myself, but that is what I've heard people saying around campus. I thought for sure you would have heard about it before me." Charis was somewhat surprised by Nerissa's reaction. She considered it to be no more than a strange coincidence, but Nerissa seemed mildly alarmed.
"How many have shattered?" A smirk passed across Nerissa's lips. There was not a single event or rumor in Niamh that escaped Charis' detection. As the daughter of the University President, Charis' personal grapevine had connections to almost everyone in the city. For a long time, Nerissa had been somewhat envious of her. People spoke so openly with Charis, while they tended to be overly polite and formal in the presence of the Heiress. Her envy was in the past now though—even if they didn’t speak freely in front of Nerissa, Charis was happy to share all of the juicy tidbits of her network with her.
"I don't know exactly how many, but more than a few people have mentioned it to me. Why? Is there something significant about it?"
"It used to be a common belief—or superstition if you ask my Mother—that, when a crystal breaks suddenly, it is an omen that a significant change is coming. It doesn't indicate whether it will be something bad or good, just a sudden change. The theory is that the natural flow of energy through the crystals changes so rapidly..." Nerissa cut short her technical explanation upon noticing that Charis' eyes had taken on a glazed look. "I'll have to see if Tao has heard anything when I talk to her tonight. You won't mind if I take this to show her too, would you?"
"Not so fast! I brought that book so you could finally see it, not borrow it. It's a precious keepsake from my mother!"
Nerissa summoned her best pouting face. "You don't even trust it to your oldest friend in the world? I'm hurt, C
haris. Really, I am."
"Don't you dare! You think you can manipulate your way into getting anything you want from me, but it isn't going to work this time! I know your tricks too well. After all, I'm your oldest friend in the world." Truthfully, her resolve was already beginning to weaken. It always did, but Charis was not about to admit that. Nerissa’s persuasive tactics were nearly impossible for anyone to resist. She never abused her position. She was simply a singularly unique person who naturally drew others to her and held them spellbound by her very presence. It was as if she somehow breathed in the essence of life itself and radiated it out to others from the very fiber of her being.
"Charis, we said we'd do anything for each other!" Nerissa whined.
Charis sighed. Nerissa also had an annoying habit of whining when things weren't going her way. "Not a chance. This is not one of those things." After pausing momentarily, Charis added, "And we were five when we promised that!"
"That is exactly my point! You are far too attached to the past. Think of this as a way to start letting go," Nerissa said, her eyes brightening and nodding her head encouragingly.
Charis considered for a second before realizing she was getting sucked in yet again. "Wait...you brought up that promise, not me! Nerissa, I'm serious. Father is just as protective of this book as I am. He would be angry if he knew I had even showed it to you and doubly so if he knew I had taken it out of the house!"
Nerissa had learned a long time ago that it was generally unwise to push Charis too far, and she knew she had reached the limit this time. She relinquished the book to Charis' anxious hands although she desperately wanted to examine it further. Despite her lighthearted exterior, Nerissa had other reasons for wanting to hold on to that ancient book longer. Based on her initial perusal, Charis’ book seemed to be no more than a collection of lore. Still, any book that old was bound to be filled with all sorts of fascinating history. Moreover, there was something intriguing about it that Nerissa couldn’t quite put her finger on. This was made more tantalizing by the fact that, for some mysterious reason, no one was supposed to actually read the book. What is a book for if not to be read? A thorough investigation was most certainly needed. Before she could ask to see it again though, Charis had tucked it securely back in her bag.
"I have to get home now. Amon returned from his most recent trip this afternoon, so I have to cook for three tonight." Charis continued grumbling as she gathered last week's supply of books and stowed them in her bag. "Amon's behavior is obviously suspicious. I don't know how my Father can be so blind to it."
Nerissa had heard these complaints countless times since Amon had come to study under Charis’ father at the University a little over a year ago. "He is obviously a horrible man—handsome, well educated, dedicated to his studies of historical art, and he frequently travels home to visit his widowed mother. Let's not forget the most grievous issue of all—he shows a special interest in his mentor's daughter. Who in their right mind would do that? It's scandalous, really," Nerissa teased.
"You know that I have many reasons to distrust him! Not the least of which is the fact that he is Casimer's nephew. Am I the only one who still remembers that Casimer once attempted an attack to take over Chiyo?" Nerissa's eyes narrowed, but that didn't stop Charis from continuing. "That alone is reason enough to be suspicious—and don't start with your diplomacy lecture. I can't quite figure it out yet, but he's up to something. I can sense it. His interest in me is a part of the act." She put special emphasis on the last statement.
"The attack was nearly twenty years ago, and diplomacy has been restored for the last fifteen. It is a thing of the past. You can't judge a person's character by their relatives anyway." Nerissa chuckled softly at her friend's visible exasperation. "You’re right, he is clearly a man of dubious intent," she added, struggling to keep a straight face.
"You and Father are far too trusting!" Charis muttered, but the corner of her mouth was starting to turn upward unwillingly.
"And you are far too suspicious, but as long as we have each other it will balance out," Nerissa concluded with a contagious grin.
"I suppose so," Charis agreed, tucking an errant lock of coppery hair behind her ear before hefting the book bag onto her back with a soft groan. She looked over her shoulder as she walked out the door. "One day you're going to break my back with this bibliophilic addiction of yours!" Her parting words and laughter echoed through the hallway back to Nerissa's ears.
Nerissa smiled to herself as she crossed the room to slide open the delicate paper paneled doors that lined the far wall. A gentle breeze swept in, carrying with it the familiar, faint scent of bergamot and cedar. Air stirred the slender crystal chimes that dangled between the doors, filling her ears with their soothing, musical tinkling.
Returning to the other side of the room, Nerissa seated herself at the dressing table to examine her reflection. The table was covered with an array of glass bottles and jars in every shape and size, simple and ornate, filled with creams and sparkling powders in every color of the rainbow. A long red cloth containing brushes of myriad number and variety was rolled into a neat, scroll-like bundle. On the right-hand side of the table, were three rows of short, fat bottles of sparkling nail lacquers, all identical except in color. Next to those stood a small stack of boxes containing false lashes, some plain and natural, some interwoven with decorative crystals. Jars with tiny glass beads in the bottom held dozens of hair combs and pins for easy viewing. This was her one vanity, and she lacked the willpower to resist the newest powder or shadow color. In Nerissa’s mind, her hair and cosmetics were the only things that really made her appear feminine. She supposed her face was pretty enough—with the proper makeup—but she had the extraordinary misfortune of inheriting her father's handsomeness rather than her mother's delicate facial features. It was her additional misfortune that she never developed much by way of feminine curves either. If it weren’t for creatively designed corsets, she would have no bosom whatsoever.
Scrutinizing herself in the mirror, she lightly touched up the pink-orange-yellow gradient across her eyelids then deftly piled her long locks on top of her head, securing them with two sparkling hairpins. Examining the ends cascading over the pins, she silently thanked her mother for at least passing on to her such lovely hair. The finishing touch was two puffs of strawberry and rose scented perfume in the air above her head.
She stood and gathered a folder of notes then double checked to ensure that the stone tile over the hiding spot was seated properly before stepping into the hall. If Nerissa's room could be described as breezy, the hallway was a tunnel of swirling wind. The red fabric banners hanging from the ceiling fluttered away from the walls, such that the symbol of her country emblazoned upon them, the golden phoenix, seemed to be flying.
She glanced into her parents' room, their studies, and the vast meeting room as she passed by, unconsciously obeying that irresistible instinct every person feels upon passing an open door. Preparations were well underway for the annual masquerade party which was to be held the following night.
Nerissa opened the heavy wooden door at the end of the hall and was swept out from the isolation of the second floor into the hive of activity that had overtaken the main room. The normally quiet great hall was abuzz with workers who were carefully arranging flowers, sparkling glass beads, and beveled lamps. One man perched precariously atop a ladder, hanging thin strips of long, diaphanous crimson fabric from the high ceiling. Nerissa hurried down the sprawling staircase and passed a table piled with glow lamps that were being cleaned before being hung from the two immense chandeliers hanging in the center of the hall. She moved through as discreetly as she could manage, wishing that she could be more inconspicuous, but was still cornered several times by workers seeking her opinion.
At last, she stepped into the sunshine, breathing a sigh of relief as she scurried down the walk and through the open front gate. There were no guards at the gates of the Royal Manor. The peaceful country of Chiyo h
ad no need for uniformed men to watch the doors, but Nerissa knew that there was a group of guardians who protected the Royal Manor itself in secret. She knew very little else about them though on rare occasions she thought she had seen someone lurking in the shadows—places which had certainly been vacant a moment before. When she had asked her parents about them, all they would say is that their very existence was a secret that should never be disclosed. Nerissa didn't know how many guards there were, but she imagined that their numbers were likely few. There was only one time she knew of that anyone had dared threaten the rulers of Chiyo. The guardians' success on that occasion was the very reason for the impending celebration.
Before proceeding to her ultimate destination, Nerissa had one stop to make at a boutique, where both of her costumes for the following evening were being made. The boutique was small, but the seamstress there was extremely talented and renowned for creating unique styles. Those qualities made her a favorite among all the nobles in Niamh, so it was natural that she be the one to design the costumes for most of the women attending tomorrow's masquerade ball. This year was unusual because Nerissa had requested not one, but two costumes. Nerissa had asked that the second one be kept a secret under the pretense that she wished to surprise her parents. She disliked being deceptive, but the tale was mostly true. The secrecy was vital to her plans for the evening, which hinged on the fact that no one would know about the second costume.
In Nerissa's mind, the masquerade was supposed to be one night when no one knew anyone else’s name. The masks and ornate clothing provided a sense of anonymity that Nerissa could achieve on only one night a year. It afforded her an opportunity to truly mix with others as an equal. Yet, ever since she had become old enough to attend the royal ball at the Manor, she had lost even that one night. Her mother had great fun dressing the whole family in matching or themed costumes and she had no care for anonymity. Nerissa didn't want to deny her mother that pleasure, but it came with the unfortunate by-product of making her identity immediately known to all. To be fair, it wasn't just the costume that had that effect. Looking down at the sparkling phoenix encircling the ring finger of her left hand, Nerissa knew that this was another reason why her identity would always be immediately known. The golden phoenix ring, with its head and red enamel tail feathers facing to the right, represented the future and was worn by the Heir or Heiress of Chiyo. Her parents each wore similar rings, representing the past and present. Regardless, if all went according to plan, tomorrow night she would carry out her own masquerade and spend the evening in blissful anonymity.
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