SMV Summer Quest 4- Mirror Mirror

Siobhán landed on the ground with a solid thump, staring up as the roof of the tent carried on seemingly forever, disappearing into darkness. That carnival music continued to play, the notes cacophonous and grating, some phrase repeating over and over above the din but she couldn’t make sense of it. She pushed herself up, turning to confront Maeve for bringing her here--

Only her angry reflection stared back at her. She jumped back, looking around only to see more and more mirrors, surrounding her like some sort of strange fun house. No matter which way she turned, another Siobhán was looking back at her with confused and bewildered eyes. Finally she took note of her reflection with a wince. To say she looked a mess was the understatement of the century: her hair was a rat’s nest, scrapes and cuts shining through her fuku, her arms and legs dotted with bruises, her knees slightly swollen, smudges of dirt or grime of some kind on her face…

“It simply won’t do to not look absolutely perfect, now will it?”

Siobhán yelped in surprise and took a step back as her reflection smirked, propping a hand on her hip.

“Oh you have GOT to be joking!” The senshi nearly yelled in frustration, storming off. No no no, she was not going to give this place the satisfaction of tormenting her anymore! She’d had enough of this, of this running in circles without getting any closer to finding out just what the blazes had happened to the Queen and Seraphina! It ended now!

The mirrors began to close in on her, every reflection laughing at her. She kept pushing forward as much as she could, but eventually she found herself completely surrounded by the mirrors, making her effectively trapped. One mirror in particular rose up from the ground, its frame dark blue and purple, the hues as deep as the night sky. The Siobhán reflected there managed to look even more ragged than she herself did, dark circles staining the skin beneath her eyes as she chuckled.

“Now there’s nowhere to run, Siobhán. You must be so exhausted.” Her reflection giggled, the sound like the grating of glass on a dull surface. “You always say Maeve is the one who runs, but you’re just as guilty of it.” Siobhán glared at the glass, stepping back even as goosebumps rippled on her arms.

“What are you even talking about? I don’t run away.”

“Don’t you? Then what were you doing just now? Just because you don’t physically run from your problems doesn’t mean you don’t try to escape them.” Siobhán’s jaw worked as she took another step back, her back bumping into the icy surface of another mirror. Had they gotten even closer? This was starting to feel like…

“Ah, you recognize it, don’t you?”

The room had changed, the mirrors changing until they formed the first professional dance studio she had ever stepped foot in. Her bewildered reflection looked back at her from all four sides, even from the slightly fractured outline of the door. But still, that purple and blue mirror remained centered in the room.

“Why—why here?” She found herself wondering aloud.

“Why not? You hate this place, you always have. You hate how you always had to stare at yourself and the others dancing around you. How it forced you to measure yourself up against them when you always fell short.” The ragged reflection leaned more forward in the frame, her hand pressing lightly against the glass. “But the question is, will you finally recognize the truth that’s your reflection, or will you keep denying that shadow as yourself?”

“You don’t know—“

“—What I’m talking about? But I do. I am you, in all your disgruntled glory. You are nothing but a shadow, constantly shifting as the light changes, becoming what everyone wants you to be instead of what you are. You are nothing, Siobhán Beckett. Nothing but a fake. A lonely, miserable fake.”  

Siobhán gaped at the version of her in the mirror as chills ran up and down her spine, making her shudder involuntarily.  She quickly recovered, clenching her hands as she stepped toward the mirror.

“That is as far from the truth as anything in this wretched place!” She snarled, glaring at her now-sentient reflection. “You’re just trying to get into my head!”

“Really?” Her reflection laughed that grating laugh again, leaning more against the glass that separated her from the outside world. “Then look around you, Siobhán. Tell me what you see.”

The mirrors of the dance studio began to fracture, forming individual pieces that clouded over as she watched, her disconcerted image replaced with another scene entirely.

Herself, maybe eight years old, dressed in a frilly, ugly pink dress stares down at her feet that dangle above the floor in the oversized chair she’s forced to sit in. All around her, men and women dressed to the nines chat around the lavish tables, their eyes shadowed. They ignore her entirely except to cast the occasional disdainful frown in her direction. Her parents sit in the most prominent places in the room, oblivious to her presence even as she tries to catch their gaze. She tries to squirm out of the chair and escape, but suddenly someone is there, grabbing her by the back of her dress and forcibly making her sit back in the chair, cuffing her when she tries to protest. Tears in her eyes, she nods feebly, but showing that bit of emotion earns her another hit, this time harder across her cheek.

“That was the last time you let yourself cry in public, do you remember? You swore you wouldn’t let anyone else ever think of you as weak, and here you are. How many times have you bottled up those emotions, Siobhán? How many times?” Her reflection giggled, but she didn’t even turn to face it. She just stared at the changing images, transfixed.

Another gathering, but this time she’s older, around thirteen. It’s her first time in a proper studio— the one she stood in now, in fact… -- and her nervousness shows. Everywhere she looks her inadequacy shows, glaring back at her in all those panes of reflective glass.  Every faltering step, every delayed movement, every harsh shout from the instructor. She tries to keep it from her face, but she’s terrified. It’s just like that party from her childhood, only now she’s surrounded by her peers. And every single one of them hates her, for reasons she can’t even begin to fathom. It hurts, it hurts so much—both their cold eyes and the rigorous training she’s put through—but she takes it without complaint. She watches herself grow in those very mirrors, no matter how much she wishes she could look away. She hates watching herself; loathes having to measure every angle of her body as it twists and contorts into the ideal dance line, even as her muscles and bones scream in protest. Hates having to stand on the scale umpteen times a day, measuring herself against an impossible ideal. She can’t stand this new her, this prima ballerina with the cold eyes and haughty mask.

The perfectionist. The “Snow Queen”, they call her. The one who always has to be right, regardless if she’s truly in the wrong.

“But that’s what you chose to be. You forced yourself to become the best, so that those looks of disgust and disdain would become ones of love and admiration. Even if you were alone at the top, you were still there, looking down at the masses.” Somehow she’d sunk to the floor, trembling as she continued to watch her life unfold in the mirrors before her. Hands settled on her shoulders—her own, her reflection’s free from the mirror, she noted with minor surprise. She was too spent by everything at this point to even bring herself to react.

“I… I didn’t…” She murmured, trying to grasp her thoughts.

“You didn’t want this?” The other Siobhán stroked her messy curls, fixing them. “I know, you poor thing. But it still happened. And it still is happening.”

She’s standing in Maeve’s room back in Galway, the Irish girl’s hair still that dishwater blonde, both her eyes blue. This is before she met Aine, before even she ran away to spend a year on the Continent. But not very much before then... Maeve stares at Siobhán with a mixture of fear and confusion, clutching her dark green backpack while the English girl’s face is utterly blank.

“B-but Sib—“

“You’re being an idiot, Maeve. Put the backpack down and go apologize to your mother for running off.” The coldness of Siobhán’s voice is astounding. “She was worried sick.”

“Yeh heard what she said to me!” Maeve snaps, the confusion turning to sheer anger. “Yeh heard what she said about Da’s family! How could she say tha’ when she doennit even know them?!”

“What does that have to do with you? You’ve never met them either, in case you hadn’t noticed. And that’s no excuse for running away, or sneaking aboard the ferry to Scotland.”

“Why’re yeh bein’ such a bitch about this?!”

“Because you could have gotten hurt, maybe even kidnapped? You’re fourteen, M. You’re still just a child—“

“An’ what does that make you, Sib? Yeh’re only a year an’ a half older than me!” Maeve grabs the front of Siobhán’s shirt. “What is *wrong* with yeh?!” She only sighs and pushes the blonde girl’s hand away.

“You’re not thinking this through. I mean it, go speak with your mother and sort this out. She’s still your Mum.”

Maeve glares at her for a long moment before pushing her toward the door.

“Fuck off, Siobhán. Yeh have no roit ta talk about what I should or shouldn’t do!! Just cos yer parents are—“

Siobhán slaps her across the face.

“You don’t have any right to talk about my family either. Now go.” Again, her face is utterly blank. In fact, it hasn’t betrayed anything this entire time besides disdain. Maeve gapes, her hand on her cheek as tears form in her eyes. Eventually she recovers enough to shove past Siobhán, slinging her backpack over her shoulder and bolting for the door. First one door slams, then another, and then she’s running off into town, the faint squeaking sobs only barely audible above her crunching footfalls in the snow.

“Did… Did I really do that…?” The tears finally fell as Siobhán covered her mouth, shock and horror breaking through the numbness that had seeped into her limbs and her heart. No, no that couldn’t have been right! She didn’t remember that--

“Because you chose to forget.” That scene continued to play, looping across the cracked mirrors like a twisted mosaic. “You may have gotten better at showing emotion around her, at opening up even here in the Village, but that doesn’t make up for this. You’ve been a horrible friend, Siobhán. A horrible, horrible person.”

It’s right. No matter how much she wanted to block that out, just like the other memories that now added to the mosaic, she couldn’t. The pane right in front of her nose changed, this time taking the shape of a familiar avenue in the Village…

"…I'm not surprised. Then go on, go to her."

Alexis levels his gaze at Siobhán. "And what's that supposed to mean?" He shoots back.  "Fine. Teruko’s not doing so good, is that what you wanted to hear?"

The English girl folds her arms, her scowl deepening. For a brief moment her eyes flash to a dark green.

"As I said, I'm not surprised. How you seem to be stable through all this is beyond me, considering what your dear girlfriend has been up to. Wavering oh so much between whether she wants you or Maeve, from what I've heard. Not to mention what was meant to be a three day respite that was supposed to help at least Maeve, if not both of them, resulted in Teruko passing out on you and Maeve not only slowly losing her sanity, but considering anyone who she believes 'betrayed' her a threat that needs to be eliminated on the spot? Or did no one tell you that she has attempted to kill me several times now? So forgive me for being more than a tad bit skeptical about anything to do with any of you all, because I would like to keep my head resting on my shoulders thank you very much!"

Oh God, no… Not this argument…

Alexis' jaw tightens. "And you think that we got out of this scot free? That we don't both feel awful about Maeve? And if you were really so afraid of Maeve, then you wouldn't have come here in the first place!"

Siobhán crosses her arms, "I'm in half a mind to just take Maeve and leave this place altogether, to be frank. Return home and see if there isn't something that could be done away from all of this madness."

He squares his shoulders and steps towards Siobhan. "And how would taking her home fix anything?”

He was right. What had she been thinking? And why did she pick that fight?! That wasn’t helping things any—it was like she was consumed by her misguided anger! But in that moment in time…

"Getting her out of here would get her away from you two, since time and again you two only seem to be making things worse!" Small, dark blue embers flicker around her hands, ignited by her rage.

“Like it or not, Teruko and I are sticking around because we actually want to help Maeve, and throwing a hissy fit is not going to change that."

"A hissy fit? Is that what you really think this is? Yes, I am scared of Maeve, but I am far more afraid for her. She is my best friend and I loathe seeing her like this. And yet not only is her mental health rapidly deteriorating, but she's started cutting herself again?" She takes a step toward him, her hand digging into her dance bag.

"And Maeve being around Elation is so much better?!"

"No, it isn't, but at least Elation is trying to make up for everything instead of just snogging a pretty girl!"

But Elation hadn’t. Maybe initially, she’d been trying to help, but now… It was like she just wanted Aine to herself, and didn’t care in the slightest what happened to--

“Because I don’t.” Elation’s voice echoed around her. The mirrors changed shape, half remaining in the form of the dance studio while the others became part of a fun house, like one would see in a carnival. That eerie music that she had heard when she was first pulled into this new area began to play as a large, theatrical mirror appeared. Elation lounged in an elaborate throne, wearing a black and gold dress that almost had a vaguely Renaissance feel to it, a diadem adorned with a strange triple moon sigil resting on her brow. Maeve knelt next to the throne, her eyes utterly haunted with dark circles beneath them, her clothing in tatters that only barely covered her breasts and crotch, revealing skin dotted with scratches and crescent-shaped bruises. Elation tipped her head slightly, smirking while she played absently with a lock of Maeve’s hair, making the girl shudder. Siobhán could only stare as Elation caressed her cheek, somehow both loving and obsessively disturbing.

“I don’t care what happens to Maeve, not at all. I just want Aine all to myself. Maeve’s just a… proxy, I guess.” She leaned down in her throne, cupping Maeve’s chin with her fingertips and forcing her face upward. “And you let it happen, Siobhán. You let me use her like this. Thanks for that, I appreciate it.” Elation outright smirked as her lips came within inches of Maeve’s. “So youthful… So delicious.”

“You’ve made so, so many mistakes that you refuse to take responsibility for.” Her reflection, now standing right in front of her, out of its mirror, grinned at her. “And you never will, Snow Queen.”

Siobhán forced herself to stare back as something snapped within her. Suddenly was on her feet, her flames licking out against Elation’s mirror. Her doppelganger stumbled back in surprise.

“Very well, I am a coward, a liar, a hypocrite, and an all around horrible person.” She didn’t even realize her cheeks were wet until her voice broke. “I have been nothing short of awful for years now. I don’t know everything as I pretend to. In fact, I know next to nothing at all.”

The mirrors around her slowly began to crack further.

“I lash out in passive-aggressive spurts, if not in an outright bipolar manner when I feel my back is against the wall. I’m cruel, cold, and calculating. The lonely Snow Queen.” The tears came even faster now as the flames brightened around her.

“I have been a horrid friend to the girl who has been practically my family for the past ten years, who took me in and was always there for me when I needed her. I’ve let her be used and abused, and in my selfishness I could not even recognize what I had done. But no more.

“I do know this: I am capable of change, of acceptance. I accept my darkness, both in my deeds and in my heart. I will change, open up and accept my shadows, and overcome this madness!”

She glared at Elation, who stared coolly back. “You will not touch her again, not while I live. Not ever, Elation Kestral.” She turned to her doppelganger. “And you… You are me. You are everything that I hate myself for being, which I would not accept as myself, but no longer. I understand this now, and I am not afraid.”

Her reflection smiled faintly and nodded, sinking back into the deep blue and purple mirror as the frame brightened in color until it matched her fuku. Her pendant began to glow as the bright blue flames circled around her.

“This nightmare will end, starting right now!!” She closed her eyes, the fires condensing around her, the once-cold tongues becoming warm as they caressed her form. When she opened her eyes again, they formed a ring around her, crackling loudly.

”Holy Flames, Surge Forth!”

Her arms shot out, sending the flames springing forth to lash at the mirrors. First one cracked, then another, until finally the one housing Elation’s image shattered into a thousand shards. When the fires died down, she was back in the Projection Room, but something had changed. The dark crystals had returned, but now had taken on more botanical shapes instead of the jutting spires from before. The soothing energy she had felt when she encountered Sailors Uranus and Neptune was still present, but it felt much weaker than it had been before. She took a brief moment to take stock of everything. She was physically tired, yes, but mentally she felt more awake and energized than she could ever recall being. Much lighter, on top of it all… Her pendant still shone, and now the edges of her fuku were trimmed with azure flames, glowing in the darkness like a beacon. She took in her reflection in the nearby crystal wall, noting a new confidence in her gaze. A confidence she felt resonating deep in her heart.

“Now I really am a senshi.” She murmured to herself, smiling. Nodding to herself, she strode back the way she had come with assured steps, following the light energy that filtered through small gaps in the dark crystal to illuminate it with a soft pink gleam. It would lead her to the Queen and Seraphina, she knew it. After all, there was only one place that she hadn’t gotten to fully look into before she was knocked out and pulled into those visions.

They had to be in that twisted version of the Crystal Gardens.

Her lengthy stride turned into a jog, then a run as the pink energy became more and more prominent, joined by other familiar auras that caught her attention. Teruko, Katharina, Anscom, Alexis, Rin… The dark crystal plants sprouted with more and more frequency now as she picked up the pace even more. Finally she broke into the corrupted Gardens, skidding to a halt as she took in the scene with utter horror.

“No…”