The Reflection War

The mirrors were covered.

Every last one.

Tapestries draped. Curtains drawn. Wards etched in chalk and bloodroot.

But none of it worked.

Because the Watchers weren't just in the mirrors anymore.

They were through them.

The first confirmed possession happened three nights after Amina fell.

His name was Camden. Second-year. Quiet, top of his Arithmancy class. He hadn't missed a lesson in six months.

But that morning, he stood outside the West Wing hallway. Barefoot. Soaking wet. Repeating one line:

"They see you when you breathe."

He said it again. And again. And again.

Until blood streamed from his eyes.

Julian and Theo were both called in.

They tried to stabilize him. But when Julian placed his hand on Camden's shoulder, Camden looked up and smiled — not with his own face.

The grin was too wide.

And his eyes…

…they were mirrors.

They called it a psychotic break.

But Theo and I knew better.

That night, the Book refused to open.

We tried everything — the incantations, the touch of blood, the bone quill.

Nothing.

Then, sometime after midnight, Theo slammed his fist on the table.

And the Book opened.

But not to a new page.

To a reflection.

We stared into the paper like it was glass.

And there, inside, were the Watchers.

All seven.

Veiled. Motionless.

But not… silent.

Because we heard them.

"One of you is lying."

"One of you has already joined us."

"One of you is no longer whole."

Theo flinched.

Julian stepped forward, his hand trembling.

"This is a trick," he said.

But the Book laughed.

A horrible, scraping sound that came from nowhere.

Then the page burst into ash.

The next day, Ravencroft enforced new rules.

No mirrors.

No solitary reflection.

All dormitory windows to be shielded.

Anyone caught speaking in riddles to be isolated.

But isolation didn't help.

Because by the end of the week, four more students fell ill.

And one disappeared.

Her name was Darya.

She'd been part of the music hall, a violin prodigy with frost-colored eyes.

She was last seen standing by the hall of stained glass.

Then—

Gone.

No scream. No echo. No trace.

Except for the faint sound of strings playing at midnight.

I started to wonder if we were losing.

Not just the fight.

Ourselves.

Theo stopped drawing.

Julian stopped sleeping.

I stopped trusting my reflection.

Because one night, I caught it smiling when I wasn't.

The next turning point came from someone unexpected.

Amaris.

The librarian.

She summoned us after hours.

"You're not the first to tamper with the Veil," she said, voice low. "But you may be the last."

She brought out a scroll wrapped in fireleaf and silver cord.

When she opened it, I saw names.

Familiar ones.

And dates.

All of them… dead.

"These were the last Veil-Tamperers," she said. "They opened the rift for power. For love. For revenge."

She looked at me when she said that last one.

"All of them were marked. And all of them were watched."

Theo leaned over the scroll.

There, at the bottom, was a symbol — a jagged circle split by a single line.

The mark of the Rift Watchers.

"What does it mean when the circle breaks?" he asked.

Amaris didn't answer immediately.

She only whispered, "It means the war has begun."

War.

The word echoed in my head all night.

And as I sat in my chamber, candles flickering, Book silent, I realized…

This war wasn't between light and dark.

Or life and death.

It was between truth and rewriting.

And every word I changed in that Book—

Every fate I twisted—

Every scar I erased—

Brought them closer.

The next morning, the Book opened on its own.

No blood. No summoning.

Just a single line, written in an ink I didn't recognize.

Will you still write, knowing it writes back?

I hesitated.

Then beneath that, words began to appear.

Not from my hand.

From someone else.

You think you're writing a better world.

But every sentence is a fracture.

Every correction, a crack in the mirror.

Soon, all you'll have are shards.

Julian barged into my room without knocking.

"The Warden's Bell rang."

My heart dropped.

The Warden's Bell hadn't rung in over a decade.

Only rang when a student crossed into the Forbidden Corridor.

Only rang when death was certain.

We ran.

The hall was frozen with silence, the stone frostbitten and humming.

And there, at the center—

A mirror.

Not broken.

Not cracked.

Open.

And Theo…

He stood in front of it.

Expression blank. Fingers raised.

As if reaching for something he knew was on the other side.

"Theo!" I shouted.

He didn't move.

Julian surged forward, grabbing him just in time—

And the mirror shattered.

A scream echoed from it. Not human.

Theo collapsed.

When he woke up, he said only one thing:

"They offered me my brother back."

And we knew, then:

The Watchers had started bargaining.