Returning to the Borderlands, I fell onto the bed and slept the sleep of the dead. I can’t say I was shocked by what I saw in the mirrors this time, but it had been a long while since I last interacted with mirrors of that kind. Some people believe mirrors are portals, others think they’re just pieces of glass. However, I know for sure that mistakes are possible on both sides. Those mirrors with a silver coating that hang in many homes may seem harmless, but there are others—ones you’d never want to look into.

  My first encounter with one of those unusual mirrors happened a long time ago. Have you ever come face to face with your true self? I’m not talking about the person you see in the reflection every morning. I’m talking about the other one—the one you never show anyone, the one buried so deep it feels like they don’t even exist. But in moments of rage, when we’re overwhelmed by primal instincts and emotions, it's that hidden self that rises to the surface.

  One of these mirrors helps me to be reborn into a new form, though the process is far from pleasant. My memory holds hundreds of lives from hundreds of different worlds, and just as many rebirths. The last one was one of the most difficult and painful. The vessel, this time, was an ordinary human girl. Even now, I can vividly recall all her emotions and thoughts as she approached the mirror, for she has become an inseparable part of me. I prepared her as best I could for the process, trying to expand her perception so she wouldn’t lose her mind in the transition. But I didn’t find a new vessel quickly, and my old one was in a pitiful state, leaving me little time for the delicate work of preparation.

  When we traveled to the place where my frail body was meant to turn to dust and gain a new form, I could hardly move on my own. The girl supported my feeble arm, guiding me through the city, all the while lamenting that we were almost there. Her fearlessness and willingness to assist an almost-stranger still astonish me. Certainly, she had a general sense that this journey would mark her end and my new beginning, yet neither her expression nor her movements betrayed the fact that every fiber of her being protested and screamed in fear of the danger ahead. At last, we reached a forgotten alleyway in the largest city on the blue planet. No one would have thought to watch us or ask questions, as on Earth, people are far too consumed with themselves and their own problems to pay attention to a frail old man and the delicate girl supporting him.

  “Are you sure this is the right place?” my companion asked with a note of disgust.

  The question was hardly surprising, given that we were standing before a semi-ruined house with boarded-up windows, overgrown grass and thorns everywhere, and ivy claiming its rightful dominion over the place. Three small steps led up to the door, which seemed newly built—especially noticeable against the weathered, rust-streaked boards of the entrance. Though, with a bit of imagination, one could see it as almost a work of art: the door had once been red, adorned with delicate golden wrought-iron details. Sadly, we no longer had the luxury of indulging such fantasies.

  “Yes, child, we are at the right place. Hurry, I only have a few breaths left,” I whispered faintly.

  The moment my feet touched the top step, the door swung open without a sound, though its weathered appearance suggested it should have groaned and announced our intrusion to the entire neighborhood. Standing before us was a small, silver-haired woman dressed as a maid.

  “Welcome, Keeper,” she said softly, bowing first to me, then to my companion. "Everything is ready for the ritual. This time, you were gone for so long—we were so worried, and concerned about you…"

  She placed my hand on her shoulder, gently supporting my waist as she led me further into the house.

  “What are you standing there for? You see what state he's in—hurry up!” she scolded the girl, still frozen on the threshold in stunned silence.

  We passed through a few rooms whose boundaries were difficult to make out in the darkness. Soon, the faint creak of a door opening reached our ears. The maid led us into a nearly empty room. She set me down on a chair by the wall, then guided the girl to a desk-like structure, lit candles on it, and opened a book.

  “Young lady, from here on, everything depends on you. I will prepare everything and leave. I believe everything has already been explained to you, but still, be brave. Good luck.”

  Opposite the desk stood something massive, covered by a thick cloth. It was so large that it exceeded the maid’s height by twofold, and its width was so immense that it seemed impossible to touch both ends at once. With a sharp motion, the maid yanked the cloth away, revealing a grand mirror in an ornate wooden frame. The mirror’s appearance clearly indicated its ancient origins, with patches of tarnish on the surface and a frame of an indiscernible color. The maid lit a few more candles on the floor.

  “Your sacrifice won’t be in vain—believe in that,” she said before closing the door tightly behind her.

  Now, I will tell you what happened next as an outside observer, so you can fully experience and witness what took place in that dark room with the mirror.

  As soon as the door shut, the girl fixated on the book and began to read, her trembling voice alternating between sharp, commanding tones and soft, gentle whispers, like the rustling of grass. The mirror before her darkened, her own reflection barely visible. As soon as the girl’s voice trailed off and silence hung in the air, the Keeper let out a loud exhale. His breath turned into a faint white mist as his garments fell, empty, onto the chair and floor. The girl watched in fascination as the mist swirled under the ceiling, then surged like a tempest, snuffing out all the candles except one before the mirror. Gathering speed, it slammed into the glass surface and dissolved into nothingness. The last candle flickered and died.

  “Look... and you will see the truth,” a voice echoed from the darkness. “Do not look with your eyes, but with your heart. This mirror was created in the same moment as this world. It sees all, knows all, and will reveal to you your true purpose, your true face.”

  The voice faded, and complete silence enveloped everything, swallowing it in darkness. After a few moments, a tiny point began to glow where the mirror had stood. It grew larger and larger until the mirror reflected the sky—so bright blue and so deep that it made you want to squint against the dazzling light. The sky swiftly morphed into another scene, and now the mirror showcased a meadow with soft green grass, where small barefoot children ran about, their cheerful laughter filling the air. Among them was a lively boy, dashing toward the river, with the others chasing after him.

  "Wait… ***" the red-haired girl shouted, her voice carried away by a strong gust of wind. "We can't go there; the elder forbade us from going to the river and beyond!"

  “Miriam, don’t you wonder what’s there and why we can’t go?” replied the boy who was running ahead of everyone. “Come on, it’s bound to be interesting!”

  The brief visions in the mirror began to shift, one after another, displaying small snippets like an old slideshow.

  A large classroom appeared, where an eight-year-old girl sat reading intently. Her fiery red hair was neatly styled, and suddenly, the door burst open, and a breathless boy rushed in.

  “Miriam, you won’t believe it! I’m growing wings! I’m the first in our class!” The boy laughed, grabbing Miriam’s hands. “Miss Norel, our nurse, said she hasn’t seen anything like it in ages. She said it’s a good sign—let’s skip the rest of the lessons and go fly kites!”

  "We can't do this, ***," — this time the name was drowned out by the chime signaling the start of lessons — "we can't just skip class without any reason."

  But the boy was already pulling Miriam along with a grin, shouting over the ringing bell, “Come on, don’t be such a bore! We’ll have plenty of time to sit in class later.”

  A new frame reveals a tall, slender young man with snow-white wings enveloping his entire body, leaving only his head visible. Standing opposite him is a now-familiar girl, though she has clearly grown older. Miriam wears a floor-length, emerald-green dress. Her curly, auburn hair contrasts with her pale, velvet-like skin, and her freckled face radiates charm. Her wings are more delicate than the young man's, with a subtle blue tint. She smiles warmly at her old friend.

  “Miriam, you won’t believe where I got accepted!”

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  At that moment, the boy spread his wings wide, showing off his outfit. He wore a dark green jacket with white patches, a similar white-collared shirt peeking out, elbow-length black gloves, matching trousers, and heavy boots that reached mid-calf.

  "Oh," Miriam says with a flourish of her hands, "a scout. You're a scout now!"

  “Yes, I actually did it.”

  “I never doubted you for a second,” she said proudly, placing a hand on his shoulder. “No one in our class could boast the strength and courage you have, not to mention such reckless foolishness.” At this, Miriam laughed, her laughter flowing like a babbling brook.

  “And you? What will you do?”

  “I’ll follow in my father’s footsteps; it was destined from the moment I was born.” With that, she lowered her head.

  "Come on, don’t be sad. I’ll always bring you something interesting from my missions," the boy said, lifting the girl by the waist and spinning her around. They both laughed.

  Next, the mirror reflected a dark room. The young man sitting at the table, his head bowed, barely resembled the cheerful boy we had seen earlier; a thick, unshaven stubble framed his face. Across from him stood a middle-aged man, his ashen wings twitching nervously.

  “How dare you! You disobeyed a direct order! What if someone had been hurt? Did you even think about that?”

  “But no one was hurt; I saved them,” the boy muttered under his breath.

  “You’ve been in service long enough. What prompted you to disobey a direct command?”

  The boy suddenly lifted his head, looking straight into the eyes of his superior.

  “You weren’t there! You don’t understand; if I hadn’t disobeyed the order, we would all be dead—every last one of us! I am loyal to our race and loyal to you, Captain, but I knew your command would lead us to certain death. I am fully aware of how dangerous jumping between worlds is, and there are few who have done it more than I have. Isn’t that why you appointed me to lead the squad? So I led. I got every single one of them out of there.” With those last words, the scout exhaled heavily and let his head fall helplessly to his chest.

  The man with the gray wings turned crimson with anger but found no words to say. He stormed out, slamming the door behind him. A moment later, the door swung open again, and Miriam burst in, dressed in a sharp business suit, her hair neatly styled, though a few rebellious strands fell across her face.

  “Oh, you’re alive!” Miriam exclaimed, closing the door and leaning against it. Her legs trembled noticeably, and it seemed like she might fall at any moment. “I’m so glad you’re alive,” tears welled up in her eyes, and she abruptly covered her face with her wings. “I’ll help you. I’ll convince the elder; he won’t expel you.”

  "Thank you, Miriam, you know— reconnaissance is my life. I couldn't do anything else."

  "Yes, I know, but I can't always cover you and plead your case with the prefect. I know..." Not letting him interrupt, Miriam continued, "You do this first and foremost for our race. I know that you wouldn't break an order unless it threatened your team's life. I know everything, but you need to understand too: no matter how remarkable you are, we have rules that have been followed for centuries. They're in place for our safety."

  “What safety are you talking about, Miriam? Your father… I mean, the Elder. He knows what’s happening in other worlds. He sees how other species suffer and doesn’t want to help them. Our technology, our knowledge… Miriam, we could save so many!”

  “You don’t understand what you’re saying. We will never share our knowledge with other worlds. It could lead to our downfall. You need to calm down and rest; you’ve just returned from a mission. You’re exhausted.”

  “I hear HIS words flying out of your mouth, Miriam. You sound just like your father. Where did the girl go who was open to everything new, the one who was always by my side?”

  Miriam turned her back to the boy, grasped the doorknob, and before opening it, said:

  “I’m with you even now. I’ll help you this time because you’re my friend, but I can’t go against my father any longer, as I will soon take his place. I must be prudent, honor our traditions, and protect our race.”

  Saying no more, Miriam stepped through the door.

  The mirror shifted again. Before us sat no longer a boy, but a young man with white wings. His bright golden eyes with vertical pupils were fixed on his longtime friend, who stood beside him. His hands and legs were bound to a chair. Miriam held sheets of paper, reading something aloud.

  “You are accused of violating our laws, specifically for multiple instances of moving between worlds without obtaining permission, for disobeying direct orders from the leadership, and for spreading our knowledge and technologies, which have been hidden from everyone for centuries. The defendant may now speak their final words.”

  After finishing, Miriam turned toward her comrade.

  “I believe it’s wrong that only our race holds the secret to immortality and that only our world can live without pain and suffering. I wanted to help others; I never put my squad, our world, or our race in danger. But if the Elder—” the boy squinted at Miriam, “and the jurors have decided that I am guilty, then I want to say this: you have no heart, and there is no compassion in it. Such a world won’t live long. I do not wish to be part of this world. I have nothing more to say.”

  A murmur arose from everywhere. Miriam stepped away from her former friend and took a seat in the empty thirteenth chair among other representatives of her world, cloaked in black robes with multicolored wings. As she sat down, she pronounced, “The sentence will be carried out immediately.”

  A shadow in a crimson hood approached the scout from behind, seized his right wing, and yanked it sharply to the side. The sound of breaking bones echoed through the room. The boy screamed in agony as the shadow grasped his left wing and pulled; he cried out again and lost consciousness. The second wing remained in the shadow’s hand.

  The mirror dimmed, but moments later, light flickered back within it. A young man stood on the other side, leaning his hand against the frame. His once-green scout jacket was stained with blood. He slowly removed one glove, then the other, tossing them onto the floor. His hands were thin and white, covered in scales with a blue sheen up to the elbows. Instead of short-cut nails, he had long, sharp claws like razors, which he would retract and extend. His golden eyes squinted with pain. The boy carefully took off his jacket and bloodstained shirt, turning his back to the mirror, revealing monstrous wounds just below his shoulder blades, still oozing blood.

  Somewhere behind him, the door creaked open.

  “Sweetheart, are you here?” A woman with dove-colored wings quietly entered the room.

  “Mom, you can’t be here! You’ll bring danger upon yourself. Oh, Mom, don’t look at me!” The boy sat on the bed, covering his face with his hands. “They tore them out. They took my wings. How will I live without them?”

  “Don’t lose heart, my angel. You are strong even without wings. I will always stand by your side, that’s why I’m here. You will need some things to help you always find your way home. Time is like water; it flows quickly. The moment will come when you will return home with new wings and renewed strength, and your father and I will be waiting for you.” The mother gently kissed her son on the crown of his head and sat at his feet.

  The dove and her wingless son sat together like that for no more than five minutes. Then the woman stood up, tended to her child’s wounds, and helped him prepare for his journey. Fully equipped, the young man approached not the door but moved as close as he could to the mirror. He ran his fingers across its surface, and the entire mirror began to ripple…

  The girl who stood on the other side of the mirror shuddered. At that moment, a flash as bright as lightning illuminated the entire room, and the mirror became impenetrably black. Behind the girl stood a shadow. During the next flash, the shadow, like smoke, began to envelop the figure of the young woman in a thin veil; her eyes closed, and she collapsed onto the floor. After a few minutes, the haze dispersed, and the one who had brought the frail old man approached the mirror, walking with the same steps he had taken to enter this house. She swayed from side to side but still managed to traverse that short distance without falling. Leaning her hand against the frame, she looked into the mirror with eyes the color of molten gold and vertical pupils.

  The transition was not quite complete yet; my consciousness and hers were still not entirely united, so I felt myself swaying from side to side. I was accustomed to the body of an old man, and I felt somewhat uneasy in the body of a woman, but in time, the merging would be complete, and I would regain all the strength I once possessed.

  “Nena,” I called out, but it came out weak and squeaky.

  The door immediately opened, and the maid entered.

  “Your new appearance suits you, Keeper,” the woman said with a sly smile.

  “Oh, Nena, that’s not funny at all; I’m still not the rightful master here. I had too little time to prepare her, and this is the result. I can’t transform her body right now, and I can’t even imagine how long I will have to walk as a girl.”

  “You look like a young lady now, but you grumble like a hundred-year-old man.”

  “Well, I’m not a hundred; I’m much older than that,” we both smiled. “Better help me get to the Borderland instead of making fun of me.”

  Nena cleared the old man’s things off the chair and sat me down on it while she started preparing. She gathered white candles into a basket she had brought, replacing them with red and black ones, lit incense lamps, and only when everything was ready did she lead me back to the mirror. Touching its cold surface, I recalled how I had done this many times before; I remembered the way to the world of the Warden, and the necessary words came to mind. The mirror's surface began to ripple, and my fingers sank into it like jelly.

  “Thank you, Nena,” I hugged the maid. “I don’t know what I would do without you.”

  “Oh, just go already; you must have a lot to do,” she waved me off, but still hugged me a little tighter. “Say hello to the Warden for me.”

  “I will.”

  I was awakened by the sounds of activity in the kitchen; Todeus was making tea, and the whole house smelled of cherry pies. How pleasant it was to wake up in this place; it always smelled of something delicious in the mornings.