Nameless [CURRENTLY BEING EDITED]

2. The Stranger in the Mirror

The elf sniffed in her sleep. Something smelled... not wrong, but not familiar either. The strange smell lured her out of the pit of drowsy comfort, a place of no dreams and silky blackness, and forced her to open her eyes.

For a moment she was completely blank. This place was also unfamiliar. She was not on the shores of the ocean. She could hear no seagulls calling. No wavelets. The wind was there, but calmer. The bed was soft, but not too much so, and she pulled the covers back. Strange. The coverlet was not the silky smoothness of elven sheets, but its soft coarseness put a feeling of comfort in her chest. The blanket was a light tan, with darker colors in patterns across it. It was obviously loom-woven and very heavy. The weight was as comforting as a mother's embrace, and she was about to snuggle back down when she looked over.

On the table beside her was a wooden mug- and the memories came back.

Finnian had driven for over an hour in silence. She had watched the shadows pass by curiously. It had felt like flying, and, lulled by the sensation, she had dropped off into sleep. They had arrived at Finnan's house- a cabin, miles outside of the city, tall pines surrounding it as if to shelter it from the outside world. It was a refuge, a fortress... and apparently it was to be her home. She had felt protected, and as Finnian had ushered her through the door and urged her into a comfy armchair, the pain in her chest was almost forgotten...

Before she knew what had happened, a fire had been lit and a mug placed in her hands, warming her inside and out. Exhaustion and warmth had been the perfect recipe for a restful sleep, and she had drowsed off almost instantly.

But now she was awake, and the smell pervading the room, strange as it was, had her stomach grumbling.

The elf climbed out of the bed and looked around. The cabin was quaint and beautiful--she could see that even in this one room. Off to her left, across the bed, there was a door. It must lead to another room. She went around the bed (almost falling, for her feet were still entangled in the blanket) and pushed it open.

It was a little bathroom. The elf walked in tentatively. Confined spaces weren't exactly her favorite.

Almost as soon as she entered the small room, she jumped instinctively to the side, hands reaching for empty space which had not always been empty. Something had startled her--

But it was not another elf, nor was it some stranger.

It was a mirror.

She stared at herself. The reflection was enough to break anyone's heart. It was just a girl. Ombre blue-green eyes, wide with fear. Small, pale face, with its fine nose and finely curved chin, white with horror. Pointed ears poking out from the locks of her... horribly short... hair...

And she leaned her elbows on the little counter and cried, her tears falling down the drain of the sink. Her stomach twisted inside her. She wanted to smash the shameful reflection, but remembered, even as she reached for something hard, that this was not her house. It would be wrong. And she had done enough wrong in her life as it was. Unable to pull her eyes away from the horror of the reflection- she walked backwards out of the room, her feet tripping over themselves to get out. Only after she was safely out of the room was she able to pull her eyes away. She blinked and shuddered, pulling on her hood, letting the darkness envelope the features of her face, hiding her shame.

The walls seemed to close in around her and her breaths were pained and tight.

I need to get out. I need to get out.

The words screamed in her head as she scrambled backwards, looking for an open door, a crack even, anything, anyway to escape the tight walls that felt like a cage.