"...y...girl!" A faint voice sounded off in the distance. Several footsteps thumped on the wooden floor.

"Cold… where am I? My vision is dark…."

Murmurs echoed in the dark void. The ubiquitous voices hammered into the entity's head. After a while, everything grew quiet. A door slammed shut and peace dawned onto the entity.

"Sleep…." The entity fell quiet the instant the room grew silent.

. . . .

"You'll never be good enough for the throne!" Two figures who looked very similar glared at each other. One sat on a jet black throne made of obsidian. The figure that shouted in anger drew his sword. Both of them had red, yet almost black skin; their pure white hair and two black horns shimmered in the sun's light.

The one sitting on the throne opened its mouth to speak. "Drasil. If you want the throne, then take it. The throne does not give its king up so easily."

Drasil drew his sword and pointed it straight at the throne. "Then the throne will be mine." Glaring at the figure, he charged.

Swinging his sword, Drasil directed the blade at the figure sitting on the throne. Before it connected, Drasil felt an ominous presence clawing at his back. He quickly spun around and struck the empty air behind him.

The figure looked amused. Facing the throne again, Drasil's red eyes grew hot. This time, he swung without hesitation.

Drasil's blade clanged as it bounced off of the obsidian throne. Nobody was sitting in it. In the small of his back, where Drasil felt something clawing at him, a kick pushed him towards the throne and he slammed into it. Blood trickled out of his mouth. He turned around and slashed behind him again.

This time, Drasil's blade hung in the air. It clashed against the figure's black sword and froze. Fear welled up inside of Drasil. His eyes grew big as he threw a punch with his left arm.

. . . .

Several moments later, the entity awoke to the tune of a little girl's humming.

"What a beautiful voice you have, Celica. I'm sure the king would love to hear your sweet singing." The humming stopped. A small pressure pushed on its chest and a deep stare seemingly bored straight into the being's past.

"Strange…" The entity tried to move its fingers. "Can I not move?" It had trouble shaking its head and its lips would not budge. Focusing its strength on its eyes, the entity slowly opened them. Light flooded through and its slumbering brain shook from the sudden change from darkness. After adjusting to the light, the entity shifted its eyes and observed the room.

The room was very large. Decorative items adorned the walls, vases lined with gold stood tall, and dark red flowers sat confidently. A single bed sat in the middle of the room directly across from where the entity was positioned. Glued to the wooden desk below, the entity realized why it could not move. It had no limbs. Unfortunately, the being could not find a reflection of itself anywhere. There was no water to gaze upon their face, and no glass which could clearly outline its features.

Two humans sat directly across: a girl and an older maid. The girl, who appeared to be eight, placed her hand on the entity. She stared ahead of her with big violet eyes.

"Father would not like my voice. I'm not a prince…" Her eyes looked glossy. The maid quickly tried to cheer her up.

"A prince?" Remembering its dream, the being assumed that her father disliked her because she looked frail. Someone like her could never fight for the throne.

"While you may not be a prince, you are still his precious daughter. The king will love anything you give him." The little girl nodded and smiled at the maid.

"And don't forget! You'll soon take the magic aptitude test and see the spirits! Oh, how marvelous!" The two giggled. The little girl nodded at the maid and began to leave the room.

"I wonder… could these two help me escape from this darkness? I doubt they heard me." Thinking this, its eyes slowly closed and darkness overcame the being once again.

. . . .

The same two figures. This time one had their arm cleanly cut off.

"We may be twins, Drasil," it began. "But, our skills are too far apart. You wish to become king like this?" The figure swung his sword and the blood flew off of his blade. Sheathing it, he looked down at Drasil, clutching his left arm.

"Look at you, all high and mighty. The kingdom's 'hero' is invading our land again and you choose to do nothing. I know you feel his presence." Drasil stood up. "Don't be a coward, my 'mighty king.'" Drasil spit at the king's shoes and walked away with his belongings.

Turning around, the victor sat back on his throne. With a sigh, his eyes drooped low.

"A bothersome brother, he is. Perhaps losing an arm this time will he understand my motives…." The figure winced. As king, every demon is connected to him. He felt the pain, suffering, and sadness that plagued his land. The king closed his eyes.

The scenes flashed before him. A human clad in white armor with blonde hair and violet eyes rampaged through the small farming village. Not one demon was spared. The women, children, and working men all perished under his greatsword. The hero's maniacal face grew a sadistic smile as he watched the entire village burn.

"The more heroes I kill, the more heroes the kingdom sends… this cycle must come to an end." The king stood up from his throne and vanished into thin air.

. . . .

Celica woke the entity up with her humming. Opening its eyes, it looked down at her. Celica aged about six years. She seemed to be reading a book. At this angle, the entity couldn't quite tell what it was she was engrossed in. Just then, she looked up and screamed. Staring right at the entity, she leaped out of her chair. Her maid and two guards burst into the room.

"Princess! Oh, heavens, what happened to you?" The maid hugged Celica tight.

"The mirror… it has eyes… red eyes!" The guards and the maid looked at the mirror that Celica pointed to. The entity was confused.

"Are they referring to me? I am a mirror?" Walking closer, the two guards shook their heads as they failed to notice any watchful eyes.

"Princess, I think you're having a dizzy spell. I'll go get you some water and see you to bed." Squeezing her hand tight, the maid left the room with the guards. Celica continued to stare at the red eyes in the mirror.

"Preposterous. Dreadful. Annoying. The reason I cannot move is because I am a mirror?" Celica tilted her head. Confused, she voiced out to the mirror. "A-are you alive?"

"Alive… I do not know. If being alive means having a conscience and a thinking mind, then yes, I am quite." Celica walked closer to the mirror. She inspected it a little closer while watching the eyes follow her movements.

"Amazing…." she breathed out. Timidly, she touched the glass. "Is it because I can sense magic…?" Whispering to herself, Celica looked towards the door as it opened. The maid walked in with a glass of water and handed it to Celica.

"Please, drink this and sleep. You must be very tired."

"Thank you, Bia."

"Please, direct your thanks to Piou. She gathered this water for you. I am just the courier." Regaining her composure, Bia guided Celica to bed. After tucking her in, the maid placed the water on the bedside and turned off the magic lamps. The door shut soundly behind her.

"Was the little girl speaking to me?" Curious, the entity watched the princess closely. A minute passed and Celica got up from her bed and stared at the mirror.

"What… are you?" Defensively, her small body gazed at the pair of red eyes.

"I am… I do not know. Since waking I have no recollection of the past. Faint dreams pass by me but that is all."

"I… I'm not afraid of you, Red!" Celica quietly shouted at the mirror. She slowly crept up to it.

Dismissing the name, the entity squinted its eyes at Celica. Looking at her closely, Red realized something. "Your stance. Do you mean to fight me?"

"If you attack me, then... yes! I've read about your kind in books. You're a sealed monster. Only very powerful ones can manifest themselves."

"So I am powerful. How ironic. A being with such power who cannot remember their own name. What a shame. This 'power' I possess seems uncouth." Red squinted at the turtle-like Celica. She balled herself up with her arms and shifted her feet along the ground.

She looked at the mirror once more. Something in her mind clicked. Overwhelmed with magical curiosity, her eyes darted along every inch of the mirror.

"This seal… it's amazing…." She slowly reached her hand out and a blue aura wrapped itself around her hand and wafted over to the mirror. Fascinated by the complexity of the seal, she completely forgot any danger that she was in.

Abruptly, the mirror began to absorb Celica's magic. Still mesmerized by the mirror, she did not pay any attention.

"Girl." Red's thoughts woke Celica up. She noticed how heavy her legs were becoming. Cancelling her magic, her knees buckled and she slumped into the chair next to her.

"That seal… it's too much…." Celica's fatigue overtook her and she passed out cold in the chair.

Red continued to watch her sleep throughout the night wondering what happened to her. The blue light that wrapped around the mirror faded slowly. Red also closed his eyes and fell asleep.

. . . .

The figure with a missing arm walked down a long corridor. Some time had passed as his arm healed and was now a stub. He cursed himself for forgetting that his brother's sword prevented any immediate healing.

Drasil entered a room and books were scattered everywhere. Vials of strange liquids and herbs lined the shelves. The cramped room held several body parts and freakish anomalies within jars.

Walking further in, Drasil peeked at one of the jars. An eyeball floated around in murky water. Noticing Drasil, it blinked at him and attempted to attack by ramming itself on the glass. Drasil continued on, unflinching, until he found the man responsible for the monstrosities and miracles.

"Did you prepare it?" Drasil stared hard at a stout figure much shorter than he was. Without batting an eye, the stout figure handed Drasil a small vial with a yellowish liquid inside.

Chuckling to himself, Drasil took the vial. "This will seal his magic, correct?" The stout figure nodded. Smiling, Drasil pocketed the item and walked out of the room.

Drasil continued down the corridor until he reached his room. Inside, a large mirror faced him. There was a small window with a black, crow-like bird that had metallic feathers. He stepped over to the bird and took the vial out of his pocket. The bird had a small pouch perfect for transporting very few items. Placing the yellow vial into the pouch, Drasil sent the bird out.

. . . .