Alice and the Looking Glass (Clockwork Wonderland Book 1)

Arrival - a Collection of Perspectives

The Looking Glass and the Caterpillar

The Mirror was not always a mirror, they say. "He used to live as a man," they whisper. "But what sort of man was he?" others would ask. Mirror knew the gossip, he'd heard the questions, and cared not. Steadfast as the frame that held his glass, he refused to answer any questions. The imps lost interest, as they are wont to do, the pixies forgot, which surprised no one, the druids had never cared in the first place, and the fairies gave up. Unlike their brethren, fairies give up on only the most hopeless of causes. So, when Mirror stood silent against their veiled threats and tricks for long enough, everyone assumed it could not be done and went back to their business. No one came to visit him after that, which he preferred. All except Cat, and she asked few personal questions, because she had secrets of her own and understood him.

Today Mirror wished the little druid would hurry along. He moved inside the fog, restless and worried. She may not understand what had happened, but at least he could talk to her. And he needed to talk, to understand just why, last night when the moon hung fat on the horizon, the magic stopped. Just stopped.

The entire forest now boiled with frightened, angry inhabitants, desperate for answers. But, he doubted many, if any, understood the exact nature of the disturbance. Most felt a moment of discomfort or a had a spell blow up in their face, without questioning the underlying reasons. For a single, endless moment, all the magic of the forest vanished, sucked into a blackness Mirror feared to understand. Perhaps he, of anyone, was in the best position to understand the phenomenon. But no one would come to ask him opinion. He was just a mirror, after all.

"Mirror! Did you feel it? Last night, did you feel it? Did you feel it stop?" Cat, skin the color of moss in noonday sun, tumbled into his clearing. The brambles surrounding his small space moved away as she passed. They did so not because she willed it, but because only the most foolish of plants disrespected a druid, however outcast.

"Calm down, young thing," Mirror chided, drifting as close to the glass as he could. "Tell me what you felt, but slowly."

The druid hopped down the last ring of stone terraces, tripped, and landed on her behind. Instead of scrambling up, she remained in the dirt and drew her knees to her chest. The vines covering her legs and torso started to knit together, she compressed her body so.

"I was sleeping - or something, I can't remember - when I felt something go wrong. Like all the things of the world were replaced with nothing. Nothing at all!" Shivers wracked her body, making delicate ivy leaves tremble. Some of the vines that encircled her neck snaked up and wiped away stray tears. Her skin grew dark, blending in with the carpet of rotting leaves beneath her.

"So you felt nothing?" He pondered this for a while, letting Cat find her calm once again.

"Nothing..." she grumbled, sniffling.

"Did you try to use your magic?"

"What?"

"Your magic. Did you try to grow or change? Did the plants give way to you?"

"I- I don't know?" An embarrassed pause descended over them, then, "I didn't think to try. I was too scared."

Few knew much about the creature huddled before him. Even Mirror, for all their time spent together, knew little. He knew one thing though: Cat hated fear. She covered it up with anger, laughter, sarcasm, really anything other than the fear itself. To admit this to him meant she understood, as he did, this was no simple anomaly. The bumbling council no doubt insisted it was just that, hoping to smooth things over until the problem went away, like the fools they were.