Mirror World

The mansion wasn’t hard to find. It was surrounded by a gate that spelled out ‘Worthington Manor’ in gold letters. Despite the frost that coated shop windows, bright daffodils bloomed on the sides of the path leading to the front door. Clutching Marianne’s note, Airi read it over one last time.

‘Worthington Manor. You can’t miss it; ask anyone and they’ll tell you. Your Friend, Marianne.’

“I’m counting on you,” Marianne had said when she and Airi were sitting in her office earlier that day. “Narcissus is even more stubborn than Wendolyn, but I think you can get through to him.”

“You really want this guy fighting monsters? He only knows one spell.”

“He could learn other spells, if he wanted to.”

“So he’s lazy?” Airi had guessed.

“You’ll see when you meet him.”

That was why Airi was standing in front of Worthington Manor, wearing one of Marianne’s dresses: white with red bows and much too frilly for Airi’s taste. She tugged on the wolf’s-claw knocker.

A maid answered the door.

“How can I help you, miss?”

“I’m here to see Mage Narcissus.”

The mage looked at Airi’s bronze crest. “Yes, miss. Right away.”

Airi followed the maid down a hall covered in paintings of lakes. The maid knocked on a door. The doorknob was shaped like the mouth of a trumpet.

A minute passed. Two.

“Is he home?” Airi asked.

“Yes, miss,” the maid said. “He rarely leaves.” She leaned down to the knob. “Um, Lord Oliver! It’s a mage!”

“Send them away,” came a voice from the trumpet.

The maid looked awkwardly at Airi. “Um...”

“Sorry, could I just—” Airi elbowed past the maid and leaned close to the trumpet. “Hi, is this Mage Narcissus?”

The other voice replied, “I recognize your voice. You’re that mage who doesn’t use magic.”

The doors opened inwards. As soon as Airi stepped inside, they slammed shut behind her. She blinked.

What?

The room was empty. There was nothing on the floor... but no, there was something on the ceiling. Several things, actually. A lamp with an embroidered shade, a desk, a vanity complete with cosmetics, a table laden with pastry towers, and a person on a plush couch—all upside-down, as if gravity had reversed. Even the paintings on the walls hung upside-down.

She took a breath to steady herself, filled with the dizzying sensation that she was the one on the ceiling. She forced herself to look up at the man, trying to find his eyes. He was dressed in a nobleman’s clothes, his lilac hair swept out of his face, crowned with lush grape leaves. On the wall next to him was a small golden trumpet matching the one on the door.

Where have I seen him before?

“You were at the king’s tea party,” she realized. He was the purple-haired noble, the only one who hadn’t laughed at her.

“Yes, well,” Narcissus said, “I’m sure His Majesty would prefer not to invite me, but he doesn’t have much of a choice in that, nor do I have much of a choice in attending. Luckily, drinking tea is one of my greatest skills.” He opened a book. “Shall I demonstrate?”

A tugging sensation in her stomach, and Airi felt herself falling upwards. She landed on the upside-down couch. The world spun for a moment, and then all was still. She watched Narcissus pour tea into dainty cups covered in painted flowers. It didn’t make sense. That tea should be spilling. All of this stuff—the couch, the table—should be pitching onto the floor.

The noble handed her a teacup. In her dizziness, she closed her eyes for a second, mistakenly loosing her grip on the teacup, which shattered, leaving only the handle intact.

“Leave it,” Narcissus said. “It’s useless now.”

“Sorry,” Airi mumbled. “It’s just... I’ve never seen this spell before. What’s it called?”

“The only one I know. Mirror World.”

“Oh. I’ve never heard of it.”

“That’s because it’s widely regarded as the most useless spell ever written. A worse, less controllable version of Tale of Flight, since all it does is pin objects to the ceiling instead of the floor.”

“If it’s so useless, why learn it? Aren’t you a first-class mage? You could have learned any spell you wanted.”

Narcissus stirred his tea with a silver spoon. “Wen I was young, my tutors told me that I could be anything I wanted.” He smiled dryly. “Naturally, I chose to become a waste of space. One could call me an overachiever in underachievement.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Enough with the charade. I’ve heard that you’re quite the monster slayer, and you even brought Wendolyn back from Swamp Glade. Marianne was bound to send you my way eventually.” He set his teacup on the table and leaned back on the couch. “Well, let’s hear the inspirational speech, but make it quick. I have a nap scheduled in half an hour.”

“I don’t understand,” Airi repeated. If she had his mana, she would make sure she went down in history as a powerful mage. “Why be a waste of space? Why not be extraordinary, like Wendolyn or Mildred? You could do so much more.”

“Please, spare me the reminder. I’m supposed to be brilliant. First-class. I know. I’ve heard it all.” He looked at a portrait on the wall, and his child self stared unhappily back. An adult’s hand rested on the child’s shoulder, fingers decorated with fat amethyst rings. “How my father would rejoice if I could be like Mildred.”

“She hasn’t written a spell since she was five, though.”

“It doesn’t matter if she never writes a spell again. She’s already cemented her place among the great mages of history. I, on the other hand...”

“You can still be a great mage. If you start now—”

“Then all my efforts will have been in vain, and my father will have what he wants: a convenient weapon to leverage against the king.”

“Your father wants to become king?” Airi drained her teacup.

“Become king? He’s little more than a puppet. Everyone knows that the mages hold the real power. Why do you think the city’s not named after him?”

Magisbury... he’s right. Despite being the royal city, it was named after the mages, not the king.

“Better to linger on the sidelines and offer ‘advice’ every once in a while. But Father manages that well enough already. He doesn’t need me. Just like you don’t need me to fight monsters. You have that new mage, don’t you? Nestor?”

“You know about him?”

“Of course I know. Marianne sent me a parchment pigeon the other day. She must be hoping I’ll come to watch his first-class test at the palace.”

“Wait, his test? When is it?”

“Oh, you didn’t know? I thought she’d scheduled it for tomorrow.”

Airi got to her feet, angry at Marianne again. “She didn’t tell me!”

“Ah well, I guess I let the cat out of the bag,” he said flatly. “Knowing her, that was probably a conscious decision on her part. Go back to Marianne. Tell her you tried your best to convince me. She’ll understand.”

Airi hesitated. “I still think—”

“Some things aren’t worth fixing. It’s better to just replace them.” As he spoke, Narcissus's gaze drifted from the teacup shards on the table to the portrait of himself as a child.