The Mirage of Libertatem

“Lady Eridanus!”

A woman in golden-colored armor ran towards the Queen, who turned around with a surprised expression. Said woman got on her knee, bowing her head in respect.

“Lady, they are asking if you are to be suited tomorrow for the incoming celebration,” the Knight spoke. Eridanus nodded. “Shall I schedule a morning appointment or an afternoon?”

“Ask for an early morning schedule, Imber.” The brunette-haired lady nodded and stood up, making a fist over her chest and bowing before departing. Eridanus merely watched with golden eyes until Imber left, and turned around to retreat into her own personal chambers.

Pale walls greeted her, decorations decked and paintings hung around, leaving almost no space empty. She glided and walked with a slow kind of grace, others passing by bowing to her and she merely giving a nod. Procella watched with a dark scarlet gaze, Imber tapping her on the shoulder and eventually dragging her away. Eridanus didn’t take notice – she just moved until she reached her chamber doors, and two guards opened the doors, letting her go inside.

At the final step, they closed and she was left alone.

Eridanus rushed to the gigantic mirrors, ruffling her hair and tossing her crown onto the plush bed with linen sheets. A grin made its way to her face and she hurriedly shut the curtains, checked to see if the doors were locked, and kicked off her high shoes, them rolling on the ground. She eventually stopped and gave the mirror a rhythmic knock –

Two quick, three quick, and two slow.

Stepping back, she watched as her reflection melted away, her blonde hair and golden eyes disappearing and eventually taking form into a silver-haired male with nearly the same colored eyes, except darker and more sated than her excited ones.

“Mail,” she whispered. A hand moved on its own, touching the glass.

The man named Mail smiled, and he touched the surface as well. His hand appeared under her own, unfeeling yet sending sparks up her spine, her cheeks turning a dusty, nearly muted red.

“My lady,” he greeted. It was a flirtatious kind of greeting, his hand remaining on the space where she was pressing against. Her hand twitched but she didn’t just settle it down, and she looked at him with a nearly longing expression until she sat down, hugging her knees. “You’re getting too excited, my lady. Your guards will become suspicious.”

“They won’t notice a thing,” she insisted. Her hand moved up to remove the hair tie which braided her hair, “I swear, they won’t.”

Mail Arida raised a silver brow.

“How was the weather in Libertatem today?”

She gave him a scowl.

“Fairly well, Mail. Not too hot or too cold,” she replied smoothly. The man smirked at this, folding his arms over his chest and regarding her with his twinkling eyes. “You’re being cruel to the Queen of Libertatem. That invokes some kind of penalty.”

“I’ll accept any as long as I continue spending time with you.”

Her smile faltered.

“You know we can’t.”

Eridanus' voice took a softer tone, all happiness fading out. Mail couldn’t help but sigh. Somehow, all conversations ended up venturing into that route.

“I can find a way.”

“You know you can’t.”

“And why not?”

He was looking rather intense, brows furrowed and waiting for an answer.

Even if he already knew why.

“I can’t. You can’t. We can’t.”

“I doubt that. We’ll find a way, Eridanus.”

“There is no way.”

Four words, four kicks to the stomach and four strikes to the heart.

“How are you so sure, Eridanus?” a demand. He stood up now; staring at her through the mirror that connected yet separated both of them from each other. “Have you tried? Every incantation, the spells and the magic of your bloodline – won’t it do anything to tear this down?”

“If you could manipulate the sands of time,” she whispered, “I would tear this mirror down and touch you for my own skin to feel. If you could even manipulate each grain of this sand that composes this reality, then you would use it to find a way to reach me, Mail.”

He stared at her, his own hair billowing in the wind that came from where he was.

“I’m not going to let myself lose you.”

A voice that came through the mirror.

If only she could believe it.

“Look at me, Eridanus. Look at me.”

She did so, and his heart twisted, wrenched at the sight of her.

“You’re real to me.”

“I know I am.”

“I want to-” her breath caught, and he struggled to hear her, “-I want you to come here. To Libertatem. But you’re stuck in my mirror like some kind of prisoner and I can’t even feel you.”

“You can feel me.”

He put his hand on the mirror once more. She glanced up, seeing it against the surface and palm facing her. Eridanus stood up and pressed her hand against the same spot, willing for the mirror to melt away and for their hands to meet, just meet even for a second or two or three.

“There’s only cold.”

A smile crept up his face slowly.

“You are the sun and you are brilliance.”

“Queen Eridanus?”

She jerked her hand away – horror filled her eyes as he vanished, fading away and his hand disappearing from her sight. Procella stood there at the frame of her door with a confused gaze, quietly waiting for Eridanus to face her. The golden-haired Queen took harsh breaths, hitting the mirror with a frustrated exhale.

“Queen Eridanus…permission to lock the doors if you won’t go out anymore.”

“Granted.”

Nodding slowly, Procella made the same gesture – a fist over the chest – and closed the doors, hearing a soft click which indicated that it would be locked until morning.

Eridanus merely faced the mirror, her fingers lightly stroking the area where his cheek was.

In the dark of the chambers and the death of day, she allowed herself to weep.