Fractured Reflections

Once more I find myself back in the dining hall with Aeris. At this point the routine is equal parts comforting and irritating. I don’t like the repetition, the monotony drags on me, like some poorly written middle school play with only two set backdrops. But I know what usually happens in this prison when the status quo changes, and that’s far worse. So I’ll take the boring every time.

As always, there’s the same fish-scale soup in front of me. I should ask more about the way to change it up Aeris spoke of a few days back. But even then, I’d hate to risk losing my friend, the all-mighty loaf of citrus-scented bread.

A lot has happened, but I haven’t really tried to process it. Maybe I didn’t think I needed to. The bracelets, for instance. At first, I thought of them as cuffs. But they don’t bind so much as watch. Mood rings with a cruel twist. The etched eye glows and dims in response to… something inside me is all I can tell. And the eyelid carved into the metal has shifted, cracked slightly open. Not much, but more than before. Aeris’ seems about the same.

I thought about asking her if she knew more, but then there were only five minutes left in lunch. No custodian duty today, though. That means more Epic of Zinc. Yay.

As we head back toward our cells, I think about tapping her shoulder to get her attention. But somehow that feels wrong. Instead, I just start speaking:

“Since the doors don’t really lock or close or whatever, would it be okay if we spend our break in mine?”

“Hmm…” She tilts her head in thought, then nods. “Sure, why not? It beats talking through a wall.” She adds a smile.

As if the prison itself had been listening, my cell has already transformed when we step inside. A console gleams beneath the faint light, controllers stacked beside it, and for some reason a small pile of books. The golden fractal logo of Zinc calls to me like a siren’s song but inviting Aeris over just to watch me play solo doesn’t feel right.

What am I supposed to do when hanging out with people? I should know, shouldn’t I? And yet...

Before I can finish the thought, Aeris drops to her knees with a burst of energy, eyes wide and glittering like stars. They were truly glowing.

Strange. I’ve always known she was an elf, I mean the ears are a dead giveaway. But looking at her now, it feels like I’m only noticing for the first time. How had I let myself forget? There was a magic veil or something that distorted how I see her, wasn’t there? Could that affect more than perception, that has to be it.

“You’re so lucky,” she says all giddy, rifling through the games. “My cell only summons arts and crafts. I haven’t seen some of these in forever! Ooh, did I ever tell you? I used to bring over a console just like this for my students after exams. It was a reward, you know, for working hard.”

Her excitement makes me smile, even as something uneasy gnaws at me. I’ve heard pieces of her past, but not nearly enough. And worse, I realize I’ve never really studied her. Her face, her features, her colors. I know the outline, but the truth of her has always slipped past me.

She notices. She always notices.

“Something’s bothering you. I can’t read your thoughts,” Aeris says softly, “but I can read your emotions. What’s wrong?”

The words hang between us like a fragile bridge. My hand twitches, uncertain. She reaches out, laying her hand over mine. A simple touch.

Our bracelets respond.

The etched eyes shiver with light. For the briefest moment, the eyelids peel back further, more than they ever have, before settling just higher than they were this morning. My breath catches. Aeris notices too. She looks at my hand in hers, then at her own, as though something unspoken has just passed between us.

And that’s when the console flickers.

A game boots up, though nothing has been loaded. The title screen glows with colors too sharp, too real for the machine’s limitations. Music hums, but the background warps, bends. The black glass of the monitor ripples, and in it I see, a shattered mirror.

I blink, but the image doesn’t fade. Retro consoles can’t render reflections this detailed. Even if there’s magic in this one rather than electricity, Aeris’ reaction tells me all I need to know.

The monitor trembles, distorting. The mirror leans closer, as though pressing against the boundary. Then, the screen shatters.

The mirror bleeds outward, glass stretching from the screen across the wall of my cell. A low, resonant groan rises in the stone around us, the sound of the prison straining under some unseen weight.

Aeris stiffens. The walls have shifted before, floors rearranged, doors vanished, but never this. Never something that should not be. For the first time, reality itself bends.

The mirror solidifies. The cracks shimmer, each fragment reflecting something slightly different, but always me, always Aeris, together. I try to focus, but the reflections blur. Then a shard in the center heals into a smooth pane. I see myself, only my movements lag by a heartbeat, as though my reflection hesitates before obeying. The Aeris beside that reflected me looks older, wiser.

No. Wrong. Aeris’ reflection isn’t older, it’s my reflection that’s younger. The shift was never in Aeris at all, it’s in me, my own perspective.

The mirror begins to drink the light. Shadows bleed outward.

Beside me, Aeris gasps. Her eyes widen, fixed on center fragment. “This can’t be real…” Her hand tightens on mine, trembling.

I see in the reflection of her eyes, glimpses at what she sees, it’s different from what I saw. There’s a classroom. Rows of desks, the air buzzing with chatter and laughter. Students hunched over glowing rectangles in their hands, steel boxes on wheel beyond the windows driving away. And in the middle of it all, me, alone with my head down. Invisible.

The vision stabs into my chest. But it’s her reaction that makes my breath falter.

Her world doesn’t look like this, does it? She’s from a world with magic, this prison doesn’t have a single light switch, it’s always been magic until now.

The mirror darkens to black. With a rush like air collapsing into a void, it’s gone. The console is off. The wall is bare. The prison hums as though nothing has changed.

Silence hangs between us for too long.

Aeris turns to me, voice trembling. “When you asked me about what world I was from… you meant it sincerely, didn’t you?” Her eyes are wet, afraid, not of me, but of the answer she already knows.

“I’m guessing the mirror showed us different things?” I try to laugh it off, but the sound dies in my throat. There’s no point, I know what she saw.

From the wall dividing our cells, a voice stirs. A mix between mine and Aeris’ voice. Saying words that neither of us have said.

“We showed you what’s currently not ours, but nothing is set in stone.”