Vol. I Chapter V: Mirrors

Lucius felt the chill of moss-covered stone beneath him as he regained consciousness.

His legs were powerful, muscular, covered in dark brown fur.

Part of him felt strong, another part felt as though he’d lost his own body.

He struggled upright, but had little control over his new hooves and nearly toppled again. 

“Melissa…?”

He scanned the gloom.

There, just a few steps away, Melissa lay slumped against a mossy tree stump.

Lucius staggered toward her.

She was slimmer now, more upright. 

No fur, no tail, no hooves and no horns.

Just a human woman.

He shook her gently until she finally opened her eyes, groaning.

“You’ve got… horns,” she murmured, staring at his transformed face.

“And you don’t,” he shot back.

Her gaze drifted down over her own body.

Her fingers traced over her legs in disbelief, touching only smooth, human skin.

She scowled and muttered:

„Ugh… everything feels so… sensitive down there. How do you tolerate this every day?”

A cool breeze swept over them, Melissa shivered and rubbed her legs.

Then she snapped her fingers out of habit, but nothing happened.

She tried again, more forcefully this time.

But no leaves appeared, no playful vines to wrap around her body as they once had for Lucius.

“Is this your revenge?” she called sarcastically into the mist overhead.

No answer came, only the distant echo of laughter reverberating from somewhere far above them.

“You’re human now,” Lucius said dryly.

“We don’t have powers like that.”

In response, Melissa stuck out her tongue at him.

But Lucius paused, a thought flashing through his mind as he stared at his new body, because something pulsed inside him, a strange magical energy.

“Let me try something…”

Melissa tilted her head curiously as Lucius straightened up, focused, and snapped his fingers in her direction.

At first, nothing happened.

Then a rush of wind surged around them.

Suddenly, vines erupted from the ground, wrapping themselves around Melissa’s bare body, covering her in a swirl of green and red leaves.

She blinked in astonishment and looked at him.

Lucius grinned, proud of himself.

“A little tight…” she remarked, tugging at the vines clinging to her hips. 

“…but for a part-time satyr like you, not bad.”

They wandered for some time through the underground realm, where broken statues lay entwined in roots and overgrown ruins sank into darkness.

A cracked road, as old as time itself, led them deeper into the gloom.

“Do you know where we are?” Lucius asked.

Melissa shrugged.

“Could be close to the Underworld. Or just one of Dionysus’ illusions. Who knows?”

Eventually, they reached a towering wall of smooth marble.

In its center yawned a narrow, doorless entrance, barely wide enough for a single person.

Above it glimmered a golden inscription:

“Whoever sees himself shall lose the path. Whoever sees the other shall find the exit.”

The two of them stared at it.

Lucius looked thoughtful, Melissa was just annoyed.

“Of course it’s a labyrinth,” she muttered. 

“It’s always a labyrinth.”

She let out a loud, exaggerated yawn, clearly trying to provoke Dionysus.

“Whatever you do in there… don’t be fooled. You know who I am, and I know who you are.”

Lucius nodded.

They both took a deep breath and stepped through the opening.

Lucius squeezed his broad, muscular body through the narrow gap with considerable difficulty.

“This really isn’t a body built for tight spaces…” he grumbled, trying to turn to look at Melissa.

But she was gone.

“Melissa?”

No answer. 

Only the echo of his own voice bouncing off endless stone walls.

And suddenly, he was alone.

The walls shimmered faintly, pulsing like something alive, while the echo of his hooves rang out sharply in the silence.

He wandered on, deeper and deeper, until finally a passageway led him into an open chamber.

There were mirrors everyhwere, yet they offered no reflection, not even his own.

Only when Lucius stepped closer to one of the mirrors did the surface ripple like water, until an image slowly came into focus:

It was Melissa, pale and human, sitting alone on a park bench, clothed in a gray dress.

All around her stretched the world of order, of laws and structure.

The human world, his world.

There was asphalt beneath her feet, the dull drone of traffic in the distance, and the vast, aching emptiness of a place where wildness had long since been silenced.

Her eyes were vacant, her shoulders slumped her expression was hollow, worn down by exhaustion.

The spark that once lit her from within was gone.

Lucius felt his heart twist painfully in his chest.

This was Melissa, should she choose to follow him into his world, a subdued version of herself, restrained, her fire extinguished.

At least, that was what the mirror seemed to show him.

And whether it was illusion or truth, the sight sent a chill down his spine.

Another mirror came to life, vivid and wild: flames rising in the darkness, a midnight festival unfolding deep within the woods.

The rhythm of drums echoed like heartbeats through the trees.

There she was again, Melissa, just as he had first seen her.

Wild hair tangled in the wind, horns curling from her temples, hooves kicking up the forest floor.

She danced, surrounded by nymphs, maenads, and other satyrs, her laughter ringing clear above the music.

She sang with abandon, radiant and alive, and she was perfect.

Other mirrors showed him the same:

Melissa seemed only to be happy in the worlds where she was without him.

Lucius turned away, his breath catching.

Even his newly transformed body, strong and unfamiliar, trembled under the weight of what he had just seen.

I could take her with me. But then she would lose everything that makes her who she is. I can't do that to her. I can’t steal her from her world.

He looked down at his satyr hands.

Maybe… 

For a moment, he truly believed he might do it, just giving her up.

But then, in the dim light, something caught his eye.

Another mirror.

Hesitant, as though terrified of what he might see, he dragged himself closer.

Inside was an image of a child.

Small, with tiny horns sprouting from her head.

She sat on the floor, weeping, her arms wrapped around her knees, as she slowly lifted her head.

Her lips barely moved, but Lucius heard her voice as clearly as if she were standing beside him:

“Why don’t you come to me? Everyone always leaves after the dance…” 

She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. 

“I thought… you would stay.”

Lucius recoiled in shock, as he stared at the small face, so unmistakably hers.

The same expression, the same amber eyes.

“Will you stay? Or is it easier… to forget me?”

He stepped toward the mirror without expression, knelt down, placed one hand against the glass.

“No,” Lucius whispered. 

“I will never leave you alone again. Not you. Not her. Never again. Your future doesn’t lie in any of these mirrors. It lies in our own hands.”

The ground beneath him trembled and the mirror’s surface quivered, then melted away.

Lucius’ hand, still pressed to the glass, sank through, and with it, his entire body and suddenly, he found himself on the other side, back in a corridor of the labyrinth.

He slowly picked himself up, then he started walking.

The floor beneath his hooves was cold, every wall looked identical, veined with dark roots.

“Melissa… where are you?” he whispered softly.

He followed the breath of a wind and discovered a narrow gap in the wall, just wide enough for him to squeeze through.

On the other side, he found himself in a clearing.

Blooming plants sprawled over mossy stones and a narrow stream murmured through the grass.

And there, at the water’s edge, her bare human feet splashing in the stream, sat Melissa.

She looked exhausted, her face hidden in her hands.

When she heard him, she lifted her head slowly, a brief flicker of suspicion in her eyes.

For a single heartbeat, they simply stared at each other, then they both rushed forward and fell into each other’s arms.

Her fingers traced softly over his face, as if checking whether he was truly there.

“So… you saw it too,” she said quietly, almost in a whisper.

Lucius frowned slightly.

“Saw what?”

Her eyes shifted briefly to the shadows at the edge of the clearing, to the torn edges of her leafy dress.

“I saw you. Many versions of you. And not one of them… was happy with me.”

Lucius’ heart almost stopped as he thought of the mirrors he’d just escaped.

“I saw what would happen to you if you stayed with me. You’d become a prisoner. I saw what I would take from you, your world, your life. I don’t want that, Lucius…”

Her voice wavered.

“I want you to be happy. Even if I can’t be part of that happiness.”

But Lucius shook his head and took her hands, his voice came out hoarse, yet firm:

“Melissa, I saw the same thing. I saw you… happy. But only in worlds where I didn’t exist. And I… I wanted to let you go. But I couldn’t. I can’t just let you go.”

Melissa lifted her head, her eyes shimmered with relief and a tiny, almost shy smile curled her lips.

„I lov…“

But before she could finish the sentence, the world around them began to blur and everything became translucent, shimmering.

Lucius felt Melissa’s arms tighten around him.

“What’s happening now?” he whispered.

The ground beneath them began to vibrate.

A distant rumbling rolled through the clearing, like the echo of drums.

Melissa lifted her head, her eyes wide.

“It’s Dionysus...”

Suddenly, they stood once more on the meadow of the Thiasos, exactly where Lucius had once spoken his wish.

The sun shone bright and the grass beneath their feet was green and lush.

And they stood side by side, exhausted, as Dionysus appeared on the horizon.

The god approached slowly, behind him trailed his noisy entourage of shouting satyrs and dancing maenads.

And they still had no idea what the god of wine and madness had in store for them.

09.08. 2025: This Chapter was revamped (explanation in Authors Notes)