I felt like pure energy gliding across a black sky. A strong wind pelted my hair, ruffled my clothes, and thrusted me into a confused tornado where up and down evaded all meaning. My world became paler as the bright colors of my coat cascaded off into the darkness like a rainbow sinking into gray clouds. I screamed and screamed until my screams too were lost.

Despite not knowing how far I had gone, the distance between home and wherever here existed crafted an incredible, unmeasurable separation deep within my mind. Instead I imagined I was stuck somewhere between the tenseness of a roller coaster ride and the blissful whirl of a merry-go-round. Yet this carnival attraction had no buckle to hold me in place, no man at the controls to stop and let me off, and no knowing how long my ride would last.

Suddenly I burst through a thin paper-like wall, and the world stopped spinning. For a moment I dangled in the darkness, a limp doll hovering over an ethereal abyss. Then a surge of fear gripped my stomach and head first I plunged into a vast ocean. I needed to breathe; my lungs strained to hold on. My thoughts wandered to my family, to my home, to the pain in my chest. Was this what drowning felt like? And as my body writhed for air and the idea of death became more of a reality, my head broke the surface and emerged on the edge of forgien sky. Only one small star twinkled above.

I coughed and inhaled the sweet air. My eyes opened wide. My limbs filled with life flapped about in search of land.

"Hello!" I cried while spitting water out my mouth. Nothing. "Hello," I cried again. "Anyone there? I need help!"

The star above shook then fell, bouncing playfully off invisible walls and ledges before rudely whizzing by my face and piercing my eye. I jerked in alarm, grabbing instinctively at the pain. It dug like a sharp knife. My eye throbbed and watered. Then as quick as it came, the pain ceased. I blinked. The sky was empty.

"What is happening to me," I whispered. "What is this place?"

All of a sudden a loud horn blared and the entire dark sky around me burst with an image of a stone laid corridor lit by individual flickering torches. At the end of the corridor the silhouette of a young man flashed into view. Whoever this boy was, he was running at top speed. In a final unnerving jolt, my body flug upward and into this corridor.

Charging with full force, I collided with this young man. Both of us slammed to the straw-covered stone floor. Our shocked and confused faces met; our lips only a few inches apart. I pushed away apologizing, my clothes drenched.

"I'm so so sorry," I said, reaching out to help the boy rise to his feet. From what I could see, he looked not much older than I, perhaps even the same age and dressed like he had just left a renaissance fair. "Let me help you up. I didn't mean t—" I adjusted my glasses and halted. I recognized the boy's face. "Oh my God, it's you!" I pointed and shouted again. "It's you! The boy in the mirror. Your hazel eyes. I..I..I've been seeing your face for so many years! Who are you?" I cried out excitedly. "And where am I? How did I get here? Am I dead?"

The boy shook his head and rubbed his eyes trying to figure out if I was real. He glanced at the shiny metal shield hanging from the stone wall. "Impossible," he whispered, pushing his dark hair out of his eyes.

I pulled the straw out of his clothes. "Did I hurt you?" I asked calmly. "I didn't mean to. Honest." The boy gave me a dazed look. I smiled and lifted the satchel that had fallen from his shoulder off the ground. "You dropped this. My... my name is—"

"No time," cried the boy snatching his bag out of my hands. "We have to go!" He grabbed me by the arm and looked deeply into my eyes. "Are you a Half-Life?"

"A what?" I had no idea what the boy just said. I stared at him dumbfounded.

"A Half-Life?" The boy could see I did not understand. "No matter," he said. "I suppose I can trust you." He looked me over and lifted my coat's yellow hood. "You're certainly not dressed like one and your eyes are the wrong color. Come on, one of them is right behind me." Without giving me a choice, the boy twisted me around locking my arm in his arm. He whipped me down the dim corridor towards an unknown destination.

"Um. What's your name?" I asked in between steps.

"I don't think now is a good time to get acquainted."

"I think I have the right to know who is dragging me down a mysterious corridor."

"Not a good time," repeated the boy.

"Well at least tell me where we are going and who is chasing us?"

"Trust me, miss. You're best off running right now." A loud screech echoed from behind us. A sharp pain throbbed in my eye where the small flickering light had pierced it earlier. I hissed tripping over my feet. The boy shifted his grip and pulled me back into his rhythm. "Keep up with me," he demanded. "You don't want to fall behind."

The pain in my eye stopped, and immediately I could see clearly once more. A cackling mixed with snarls echoed from around the corner.

"What is that?" I cried wishing I could cover my ears.

"Just keep running," cried the boy. "Don't look back." My feet struggled to keep the pace of the boy's frantic steps. Adrenaline started to pump through my veins.

"Where are we going?"

"Less talk and more run! Keep up!" The boy yanked me down a small flight of stairs, his tweed jacket fluttered wildly with each step. I noticed his hazel eyes scanning the surrounding walls. Upon the boy's square chin and dirty cheeks a hint of an undeveloped beard grew. He was the exact same height as me, but more robust and with slicked back hair. His tattered undershirt and worn pants hugged his body. An old leather satchel was strung over his shoulder. His strong but tender hands clasped my arm securely but gentle enough not to hurt me. Sweat dripped down his face as yet another intense screech followed by laughter erupted through the corridor.

"What is making that sound?" I cried glancing behind me. A misshapen shadow loomed around the corner. Intense dread and fear suddenly filled my thoughts.

"I told you not to look back," fussed the boy. He grunted and twisted me around another corner. "We need to hide!" The boy's pace quickened. "She's gaining on us! We can't outrun her!" He stopped at the first wooden door labeled, 108. "This will have to do," he said, clasping the handle. He pushed and pulled, but the door failed to budge.

"It's locked. What do we do now!" I shrieked. My desperate gaze glanced all around for an exit sign or a door leading outside.

"Stand back!" The boy rolled up his sleeves and raised a gloved hand towards the door. A small crystal embedded in the long leather glove began to glow yellow. He whispered, "Deconstruct." And with a swish of his arm the door bent inward and crumbled by its hinges. Tiny splinters of wood fluttered and hung mysteriously in the air as if by magic. I gawked at the strange sight. Such a thing should not be possible. The boy lowered his arm. "Let's go!"

He pulled me into the dark room and once we were inside he whispered some more magic words. "Reconstruct. Blockage." With another wave of his glowing hand the door fixed itself, looking just as it had before. He pressed my back against the cold stone wall. "Now be very, very quiet and let it pass." I held my breath. The boy did the same, his heart pounding. Light filtered through a crack in the door landing on our stunned faces. The air stilled at the creature's approach.

A large shadow passed in front of the light. It looked as though the thing was walking on the ceiling instead of the floor. It fluttered by with its black clothes flapping like wings. I let out a small shriek as it passed by. The boy rushed to cover my mouth, but he was not quick enough. The thing appeared at the door, staring through the keyhole.

"There you are," whispered a crooked evil sounding voice. "No one gets away from me. Not even you, Owen DuBois. A simple blockage spell will not keep me from entering."

"Gosh darn it!" barked Owen. He turned to me. "We have to hurry and find a way out."

"I don't even know where we are!" I cried. "How do you expect me to get us out?"

"If we live through this, I'll tell you!"

The thing smiled showing its rows of sharp teeth. "There is another? A girl?" it curiously smirked. "How exciting." The thing sniffed the air. I could see the air and dust move towards the keyhole as it wafted into the creature's nostrils. "And she smells different like something both familiar and forgotten. How very intriguing... Here I come." The thing turned into a purple mist and began flowing through the keyhole like sand in an hourglass.

"Oh great, I forgot to enchant the keyhole." Owen raised his arm. "Light," he whispered. Again the crystal in his wrist glowed, and the torches in the room caught fire filling the small space with an eerie glow. "We need to find a way out of here and fast! It will not take long for her to reform."

"Her?" I cried stepping away from the strange mist. "That thing is a her?"

"Yes, didn't you hear me say that earlier. Now find us a way out, girl!"

"My name is not, girl! It is Hope Martinez!"

"Well, Ms. Hope Martinez, get a move on!" Owen scurried around the room looking for an exit. I, still staring at the door, watched the strange purple mist seep through the keyhole becoming denser with each second.

Owen pulled me away from the mist.

"Do not let that stuff touch you. It will drain your strength."

"What exactly is she?" I cried.

"That is a Half-Life, a cursed female soul; she wants to kill me and probably you if you get in her way. So help me find a way out of here before she reforms!" The mist began to grow and take shape. A head and shoulders were now clearly distinguishable. "Get a move on, Ms. Martinez!" he shouted. Owen searched the left side while I searched the right side of the room. The only object in the room was a large cloth covered oval leaning against the wall.

"There's nothing here!" I said rubbing my hands along the bare walls.

"Search harder!" cried Owen as he continued to scan the walls. I knocked on the stone hoping this was like those old homes in mystery novels where a hidden door might open if you pressed the right spot. Nothing worked, it was pointless, nothing but solid stone. I kept looking back at the mist, fearful of what it would become. Fingers formed out of the mist. They curled and stretched until long nails jutted from them. I turned my attention to the large cloth covered object against the wall. It was the only thing left to try.

"What is this?" I shouted, rubbing my hand along the fabric. The object behind the sheet was hard and flat. Owen rushed over to my side. The creature's transformation was nearly complete. An outline of a face and individual strands of hair began appearing. I tugged on the dusty cloth revealing a large oval mirror. On its surface near the top shimmered a set of golden letters. "Corruption is in us all," I read before they faded. "What does that mean?" I thought. My question went unanswered as my eyes traveled down the mirror into its depths. Parts of the mirror seemed to be missing, but what frightened me more than anything was what reflected inside.

I yelped with fright. Expecting to see my terrified face, instead I saw only the room around me, neither my reflection, the boy's reflection, nor the creature's reflection, stared back. The mirror was empty.

"This is impossible!" trembled Owen placing his fingers on the glass. "How is it that neither of us have a reflection?" A wicked laugh rang in the room. Twisting around we stared at the hooded female figure now standing by the door.

The black robe from which she wore covered most of her body. She raised her pale white hands and removed her hood allowing her face to appear in the torchlight. Her short orange hair fell across her cheeks where a fair amount of blush had been applied. In the center of her forehead a black tattoo in the shape of an upside-down trident shifted with her expressions. The trident's side points curved down to her piercing purple eyes while the center line ended on the brim of her thin nose. Despite her menacing presence the woman before us radiated beauty beyond any model I could name.

With a gentle smile of her pristine red lips the air in the room stilled making it harder to breathe. Even the flames in the torches stopped vibrating. Their intensity dimming to a faint glow. I became aware of my anxious heartbeat and my desperate lungs as they heaved for oxygen. My mind grew lightheaded. Sweat formed on my brow. I felt ready to collapse.

The fearsome woman studied us with her purple eyes. A cruel malicious force swirled within them causing my skin to crawl. I looked away unable to take much more.

"Well I never thought I would see one again," came a smoother voice than the crude cackling I had heard in the corridor. "And to think I was told they were all dead and gone yet one stands before me now. A Mirrorbender." The woman raised a finger at me. "Young girl, what is your name?"

I tried to speak, but I found my lips trembling unable to form words.

"Oh, don't be afraid little girl," said the woman with another gentle smile. "I am a friend. More so than that thief you have standing next to you."

"Hush your tongue, Half-Life!" yelled Owen.

"I was talking to the lady, Owen DuBois. Where are your manners?" The Half-Life folded her arms. "You see the company you keep. This young man stole a precious artifact from my convoy after lying about his reasons. He is no more than a common thief and a no good liar."

Pressing the fear from my mind, I spoke. "What are you?"

"I am a Half-Life, but you may call me by my vice name, Desire. And I desire many things, especially ones that belong to my master." Desire twirled her hair with one of her pale fingers. "I can feel the power emanating off you. Like a fire catching ablaze in a dry wood, or an ominous breeze warning of a storm to come. So much strength, so much untapped potential waiting to burst. Only one type of being generates that much power." Desire turned to Owen. "My dear, boy, how do you come to possess such a treasure and in this terrible place?"

"What do you mean?" asked Owen as he looked apprehensively at me.

Desire laughed. "I can't believe you don't know. Just look at the mirror behind you. This girl is a special form of magic. One this world has not seen in almost three hundred years."

"I did not want to believe it." Owen stared at the empty reflection. "But there is no denying it."

"Oh my lord will be pleased indeed when I present you to him." Desire took a step forward. "Now come with me, young girl. I have no more need of this thief. You are the prize today."

Owen moved in front of me, his arms outstretched. "This girl is with me; I won't let you harm her."

"I have no intention of harming her. Just you, Owen DuBois, if that is your real name." Desire rose from the ground causing the earth to tremble and sway. Wind ripped through the small room swirling dust and debris into the air. Desire's cloak began to flap wickedly like giant bat wings. She flipped in mid air, standing on the vaulted ceiling, her mouth wide open, sharp teeth forming. I stepped back leaning against the large mirror as the demonic woman screeched loudly from above.

"Stay behind me," cried Owen. "I won't let her touch you." The crystals on his gloves began to glow yellow like before. "Blockage!" he cried. A small shield formed around his arms knocking away flying objects. A stone dislodged from the wall and came swirling towards my head. Owen quickly twisted in the air and knocked the stone away.

"Quick but not quick enough," cried Desire as she hurtled a second stone with the flick of her wrist. It caught Owen by surprise knocking him down. "Now you die!"

"Not quite yet!" Owen smiled. "Take this! Deconstruct!" With a twist of his raised hand the stones beneath Desire's feet crumbled. She came tumbling down along with part of the ceiling. I helped Owen to his feet. He looked suddenly weak.

"How dare you, you scum! I won't let you get away, you lying thief!" Desire let out another inhuman scream. "I will enjoy ripping you apart!" The Half-Life swooped towards us causing the torches to bend in awkward angles. The force pushed me back until I was sandwiched between Owen and the mirror. My fingers grazed the mirror's smooth hard surface until a change occurred and the glass began to ripple like water. Somewhere deep inside me, a voice whispered. Use the mirror in your pocket.

"This better work," I cried as I reached around Owen's waist. Like in the alleyway, I shut my eyes and imagined a place I'd rather be. I pulled the small mirror I had yanked from my locker and pressed it's reflective surface to the glass. Both mirrors started to glow; the smaller one vibrating in my hand. Whatever I had managed to do, it was working.

Owen glanced over his shoulder just in time to see the larger mirror fold inwards to a dark abyss. As it did a bright light and a thundering crack shook the room. The shockwave slammed Desire against the back wall. She writhed and screeched trying to break free of the oppressive force weighing on her.

A powerful sucking like a bathtub drain started to pull air and debris.

"How are you doing this," shrieked Owen as he grabbed onto the mirror's metal sides to keep from falling in.

"I don't know!" I yelled. By now my arms were wrapped around Owen's waist; my poor legs flapped in the void. The force within began to pull stronger and stronger.

"I'm going to let go!" cried Owen.

"What!" I screamed. "Are you crazy? I don't know what I did or where this goes!"

"Anywhere is better than here."

"Stop!" came the horrified voice of Desire. "Stop this right now! You don't know what you are doing! Close it! Close the portal! You have no idea how to use it! You will be lost!"

"Please don't let go," I cried.

"We have no choice," said Owen. "You have to trust me!" His hazel eyes stared into mine. I nodded unwillingly. "Okay, now hold on tight!" My grip tightened around his waist and I shut my eyes. I felt his fingers lift from the mirror's edges and in a combined scream, we succumbed to the pull of the abyss.

"Wait—" yelled Desire. She rushed to the opening, but it was too late. The mirror had returned. Her hands fell upon the solid glass, her fingers burning at the mirror's touch. "Curse you, Owen DuBois!" she shouted, removing her smoking fingers and clutching them to her chest. "Curse you, Mirrorbender!"