Chapter-36 A Dance Of Mirrors And Wispers

The apartment felt heavier than usual. Without Lira's presence, the space felt colder, the shadows stretching longer along the walls as evening settled in. Frederique sat cross-legged on the wooden floor of the living room, the chill from the planks seeping into her skin. The dim light above barely illuminated the space, and the only sound was the low hum of the fridge and the occasional creak from the old pipes.

"We should train," Frideria murmured from deep inside her mind.

"You heard Lysandro. We need to learn control."

Frederique nodded, taking a deep breath.

"Let's try Discord again. Slowly this time."

She closed her eyes.

The world didn't change instantly. She had to feel it... like a ripple spreading across still water, the sensation began behind her eyes. Magic was subtle, coiling in her chest like a heartbeat.

"Don't force it. Let the reflection breathe."

She exhaled.

When her eyes opened, the first reflection appeared.

It stood directly in front of her. A hazy outline, faint as mist. The edges were blurred, unstable.

Frederique stared at it. The reflection mimicked her posture, but not perfectly... the tilt of its head was a fraction different, the angle of its lips too neutral.

"More solid."

She focused harder, tightening her grip on the magic within.

The reflection sharpened. Lines filled in... her hair, redder than she remembered, eyes dark and steady. The mirror-self blinked when she blinked.

But the details were too perfect now. It wasn't deceptive.

"You're making it too real again," Frideria cautioned.

"A lie needs cracks. Let it stay... slippery."

Frederique let the image blur just slightly. Not enough to seem fake... but just enough to feel like something was off.

Then, slowly, she lifted her right hand.

The reflection lifted its left.

"Good."

A slow smile spread across her lips.

"Now, double it."

Frederique focused, breathing deeper. The tension in her mind expanded, as if splitting along fault lines. She felt her awareness pull... not tearing, but stretching.

A second reflection materialized.

This one flickered into existence beside the first, both echoes now moving with a delay, imperfect but eerily synchronized. They shifted, shimmering, as if on the edge of dissolving again.

"Hold them steady..."

Her heartbeat quickened. The second one was harder to control. It felt... heavier, requiring more of her focus. She could feel Frideria pushing alongside her, the hunger coiling tighter.

The second mirror twisted. Its face warped for just a heartbeat... its mouth too wide, eyes too black.

Frederique blinked, and both reflections shattered into mist.

She gasped, falling back onto her hands, her chest heaving.

"Better." Frideria's voice was softer now.

"You'll get stronger. But don't push yet. Let's try the other one."

"You have another one?"

"Yes. This Art is call Primal. The first level is Willow Wisper "

Frederique sat up straighter, pressing her palms to the floor. She could feel Frideria stirring again, a different kind of pulse flowing through her veins. Discord felt like trickery. This felt... older. Deeper.

"The first step is listening. Everything speaks. You just haven't been paying attention."

Frederique frowned, running her fingertips lightly along the wooden floorboards.

"It's... just wood."

"No. It's older than you. Older than me. Listen."

Frederique closed her eyes, steadying her breath.

* Silence. *

Then...

A whisper.

Faint, distant, like a voice carried from the bottom of a well.

"We were trees once."

Frederique's eyes snapped open, her heart racing.

"I... What was that?!"

"The wood. It's speaking. Keep going."

She hesitated, then pressed her hand fully against the floor again.

"We were trees once. Cut. Shaped. We hold weight. We remember... footsteps."

The voice was quiet but present. Not quite words, but something deeper... impressions. Memories.

She swallowed hard, pulling her hand back.

"I don't... understand how it's speaking."

"You're not supposed to understand. You're supposed to listen."

Frederique nodded slowly, then stood up.

The apartment felt alive now.

The old chair by the window sighed with age. The fridge thrummed with an agitated hum, complaining about the strain of its constant work. Even the cracked mirror in the hallway whispered, its surface speaking of reflections seen, reflections lost.

Frederique's head spun.

"Enough listening." Frideria's voice was gentler.

"Try speaking back."

"Speak... back?" Frederique whispered aloud, staring at the wooden floor beneath her bare feet.

"If objects can speak, they can hear. Make them remember you."

Frederique knelt, pressing both palms flat against the floor. She let the pulse of magic flow freely this time, not forcing, not gripping. Just... being.

"I am here," she whispered in her mind.

The wood stirred beneath her touch. She could feel it.

"I am here. Remember me."

The house felt... warmer.

Not just the wood... the air itself seemed to hum with her presence.

Then, a thought... not hers... surfaced.

"You... belong."

Frederique pulled her hands back, heart pounding louder than before.

She pressed her back against the wall, breathing hard.

"It... It responded. Did you hear that?"

"Yes." Frideria's voice was quiet, proud.

Frederique looked at her hands, trembling slightly.

"We... we made it listen."

"Yes. And next time? It will remember."

A strange, fierce smile spread across Frederique's lips.

She felt powerful.

Not uncontrolled.

Not broken.

Powerful.

And for the first time... she didn't fear it.