Chapter 10: Emily and the Reflection

The next few days passed in a mix of merry-making and magical training. Aria was delighted to see the statues of Castle Elid again, her companions for so many centuries, and spent many hours in joyful conversation with them. She told the statues of her adventures with Emily, and they told her of all that had happened since the two had departed the castle—the rescue of their drowned brethren, and the long trek to Paja Abbey.

For their part, the monks were welcoming, and incredibly curious. Living statues, as Emily had come to appreciate, were not much more common in Thessolan than back on Earth. And each one was different from the next—marble, granite, sandstone, bronze, all materials were represented. Many, like Jivaro, possessed exaggerated features and proportions seldom seen in flesh-and-blood humans—this had been a side-effect of petrification.

“Did you look much different as a human?” Talyndra asked Aria.

Aria put a thoughtful hand to her chin. “I think I was slightly taller.”

Emily’s eyes widened at this—she had known few woman as tall as Aria even in her statue form.

“You will soon be able to verify this claim, Emily,” Aria said gently, noticing Emily’s expression.

That just made Emily feel worse, but she smiled bravely. The way Aria could speak with such complete trust and confidence in her made her wonder what she had done to deserve it. Moreover, it made her think of how she might unwittingly betray that trust and confidence. Could she really restore all of these statues to human form?

The day soon came for Emily and Talyndra to leave for Gla Abbey. Emily had quickly mastered teleportation, but had proven quite unable to manifest clothing again, the way she’d inadvertently done in front of the monks, after her first teleportation. About the best she’d managed to do in that regard was get good at very quickly teleporting behind cover.

She’d asked the monks if there was an fabric which might resist the Stoneshell’s flame, and they’d suggested some possibilities, but everything she’d tested thus far had been destroyed just as thoroughly as the outfit she’d first teleported in. In the end, she resigned herself to appearing naked in the fireplace of Gla Abbey. At least Talyndra would be in the same boat. Anyway, shouldn’t she be used to arriving in strange places without any clothes on by now? It appeared to be prophesied...

Emily didn’t think it was possible to get used to such a thing. But she would do it for Aria. And to get back home.

“Shimmerwood is a place of illusions,” Althea warned her one night over dinner, the fire casting ominous shadows over her wizened features. “It takes a strong mind to resist its influence. Many have been lost to the forest’s spell.”

“How can I resist it?” asked Emily.

“Know yourself.”

To Emily’s chagrin, no further or more practical advice was forthcoming. But such was her resolve that when the appointed day arrived, she stood in the courtyard of Paja Abbey, arms wrapped around Talyndra, ready to disappear. She had on a simple peasant’s dress made from single piece of fabric, which no one would miss much when it was burned up, and was barefoot.

Talyndra wore her leaf dress. “It’s getting a bit stale, so this is good timing,” she said to Emily, doing her best to act nonchalant. “I’m just upset I can’t bring my swords.”

Monks and statues gathered around to watch the disappearance, though they would see little more than an ascending column of flame. The real show was going to take place on the other side.

Emily cast her gaze over the crowd, meeting Dorian’s eyes. He smiled and saluted, mouthing a wish for good luck. She smiled back, and then passed her gaze to Aria, who wore a small, reserved smile that nonetheless signaled total confidence in her student and friend.

“Give my regards to Abbess Loren,” said Althea, who was standing next to Aria. The two had found a lot to talk about with each other. “She’ll tell you all you need to know about finding the Shard of True Reflection.”

“Thank you,” said Emily.

“We’ll see you back in a few days’ time,” Althea continued. “The Stoneshell fire will be kept well-stoked for your return.”

“Please have a cloaks for us as well! And a much smaller audience!”

“Boo!” shouted Jivaro.

Emily giggled, despite herself. “Goodbye, everyone!” she said.

“See ya later!” shouted Talyndra.

Emily and Talyndra looked each other in the eye and decided it was time. Emily took a deep breath in, and then, in a calm, clear voice, said the words, “Gla Abbey.”

Her world was consumed by fire, and then darkness.

Every previous teleportation had felt instantaneous, but this time Emily was conscious of the moments between her departure and arrival. Her body was spinning in all directions, with nothing but around her. She clung tight to Talyndra, and felt as the sensation of leaves was replaced with that of flesh. Ethereal winds whipped at her own exposed skin.

Then the spinning stopped, and Emily felt warm stone beneath her feet. Darkness was replaced by walls of weathered stone, animated by dancing shadows. A roaring fire warmed the skin of Emily’s back. The smell of damp earth filled her nostrils, and a cloying sweetness tickled the back of her throat.

Emily swayed, releasing her grip on Talyndra and fighting back a wave of nausea. Talyndra let out a low groan, her hand flying to her mouth.

“Ugh,” she muttered. “That was worse than usual.”

“It must be ... the distance,” Emily wheezed, bent over and staring at the cracked stone floor, overgrown with moss. “Is this ... Gla Abbey?”

Once sufficiently recovered, Emily and Talyndra surveyed the chamber. The walls, floor and ceiling were cobbled together from rough-hewn rocks, many of which had fallen down and were lying in piles. Green moss grew in every crevice. The room’s single feature was the hearth behind them, burning with Stoneshell fire. A narrow opening across from them showed dense foliage.

Talyndra stepped closer to the opening and scanned the area outside. “This must be Shimmerwood. I didn’t realize the abbey was actually inside the forest.”

“Perhaps the mages here are wood elves, like you,” Emily suggested.

Talyndra shook her head. “This is no wood elf forest. The magical energy here feels twisted, wrong somehow. It’s giving me a headache, and we’ve barely been here five minutes.”

Despite the warmth of the fire, a chill spread through Emily’s bones. The sight of Talyndra’s bare butt as she peered into the forest reminded her of her own nudity, and she wrapped her arms across her body.

Talyndra glanced back at Emily. “I’d better get us something to wear. There’s a tree just outside with nice big leaves that’ll make excellent outfits.”

“Thank you,” said Emily, “I knew you were the right person to bring along!”

“Just try not to burn this outfit up, okay. Not every tree has suitable leaves, especially in a strange forest like this one.”

“Hey!” But before Emily could finish her retort, Talyndra had slipped through the chamber’s entrance, disappearing into the shimmering, mist-wreathed forest beyond.

Left alone in the strange, silent chamber, Emily shivered. The fire crackled merrily in the hearth, but it did little to dispel her growing unease. Cautiously, and with her hands firmly covering herself, she took a few steps towards the entrance and peered out.

The forest was impossibly dense, with barely any clear ground between the entrance to her ruin and the thicket of trees. A rolling mist suffused the place, further hurting visibility. Though Talyndra could be no more than a few yards from the entrance, Emily could not see her.

The air was thick with honeyed-green mist, and what little sunlight permeated the trees had a sickly green tinge. The whole place was suffused with a smell that made Emily feel light-headed. A cloying sweetness, so strong that she could taste it, but not quite like anything she’d ever smelled before.

A scream, sharp and sudden, sliced through the stillness of the forest. Emily’s heart leaped into her throat. “Talyndra!” she whispered, blood pounding in her ears.

Fear overriding apprehension, Emily scrambled through the narrow opening, her bare feet sinking into the soft, mossy earth. The cloying sweetness of the mist intensified, making her head spin. “Talyndra!” she called again, panic cracking her voice.

The mist swirled around her, obscuring her vision, making the trees seem to shift and sway like ghostly figures. Then, through the swirling green, she saw a splash of vibrant color. As she drew closer, the scene that unfolded before her was not what she had expected. Not a scene of danger or struggle, but ... a tea party.

A group of the most peculiar creatures Emily had ever encountered were gathered around a low, moss-covered table, sipping tea from delicate porcelain cups. There was a plump, pink dwarf woman in a frilly dress with a wide-brimmed hat perched jauntily on its head, its tiny arms gesticulating wildly as she recounted a story. A sleek, black snake with emerald eyes coiled gracefully around a teapot, its forked tongue flicking out occasionally to sample the steaming brew. A small bipedal creature, that looked like a cross between a man and a bird, covered in feathers and wearing a vest made of leaves, crouched near a plate of miniature cakes, dipping its long beak into the frosting.

They all looked up as Emily approached, their expressions ranging from mild curiosity to outright delight.

“Welcome, welcome!” chirped the bird-man, his voice surprisingly deep and resonant. “We were just about to pour another cup. Do join us!”

Emily stared at them, her mouth agape. She had been prepared to face monstrous beasts, cunning traps, perhaps even the wrath of the forest itself. But a tea party? It was so utterly unexpected, so incongruous with the eerie atmosphere of the Shimmerwood, that for a moment, she was speechless.

The pink lady, noticing her hesitation, gestured towards an empty seat at the table. “Don’t be shy, dear,” it said, its voice warm and inviting. “There’s plenty of tea to go around.”

Now that her panic had subsided, Emily was once again keenly aware of her nudity, and clung to her body. She managed a weak smile. “I, uh ... thank you,” she stammered, her gaze darting between the strange creatures and her own bare form. The situation was beyond awkward, yet there was something oddly disarming about their cheerful hospitality.

She cautiously approached the table, her cheeks burning. The black snake poured her a cup of steaming tea, its emerald eyes twinkling with amusement. “Milk or sugar?” it hissed, its voice surprisingly gentle.

“Just ... just tea is fine,” Emily mumbled, taking the offered cup with trembling hands, still not quite believing what was happening to her. She sat down on the low-slung branch of a nearby tree, squeezing her thighs together.

As she sipped the tea, a blend of fragrant herbs and sweet berries, she couldn’t help but feel a sense of surreal amusement creeping in. Here she was, naked and stranded in a magical forest, having tea with a snake, a dwarf and a bird-person. This was not quite how she had envisioned her quest for the Shard of True Reflection unfolding. And where was Talyndra?

The tea went down smooth and made Emily feel better. Her eyes darted between the dwarf lady’s dress and the bird-man’s leafy vest. Even the snake, she now noticed, was wearing a red bowtie just under his diamond-shaped head. Gathering her courage, she cleared her throat. “Excuse me,” she began, voice trembling slightly. “This tea is quite lovely, thank you. But, um, as I guess you can see, I’m feeling a little, uh, underdessed for this occasion. Would anyone happen to have a spare cloak or something?”

The three party-goers exchanged glances. Then, eyes lighting up, the pink lady tottered over to a nearby bush, plucked a handful of brightly colored flowers, and wove them into a delicate crown. Smiling, she walked over to Emily and bade her to lower her head. Emily did so, and the lady placed the crown gently on Emily’s head.

“There you go, dear,” she said. “That’s much better! Would you like some more tea?”

Emily managed a weak smile, feeling more self-conscious than ever. “It’s ... lovely,” she said, “But I’m still, uh ... I mean, I don’t want to be a bother ... but...”

“Oh of course!” the lady exclaimed, slapping her forehead. “How silly of me! I forgot the most important part! Charles, hold still, would you?” With this, the lady leaned over to her side and deftly plucked a handful of feathers from the birdman’s head.

The bird-man shrieked in pain, his cry something between a human scream and a bird call, so loud and shrill that Emily physically winced at it.

“Oh, quit fussing,” said the pink lady. “We must show our guest the proper hospitality.”

The pink lady deftly wove the feathers into Emily’s flower crown before stepping back to admire her handiwork. “Beautiful,” she said. “You’re quite ready for the tea party now, love.”

Emily could only smile weakly. Clearly, these people were insane.

The snake poured her a fresh cup of tea, and the pink lady whispered something in the ear of the bird-man, who nodded gravely, looking in Emily’s direction. Perhaps ... perhaps they thought she was the insane one? After all, she was the one wandering around a strange forest in the nude. Even the snake wore a bowtie.

Just then, Talyndra emerged from the swirling mist, a broad smile on her face. She wore a simple dress made of leaves and cradled a similar one in her arms. “Emily!” she announced, her voice ringing with satisfaction. “I’ve got you covered—literally!”

Emily could see her smile faltered as she took in the scene. There she was, adorned with a flower crown and a smattering of feathers, sat awkwardly on a tree branch, surrounded by the strange tea party guests. The pink dwarf, the feathered bird-man, and the bowtie-wearing snake all turned to Talyndra, their expressions shifting from cheerful welcome to something colder, more guarded. The air in the clearing crackled with tension, the lighthearted atmosphere of the tea party instantly evaporating.

“Talyndra?” Emily said, relief flooding through her. “Where were you? I heard you scream—I thought something terrible had happened!” She felt suddenly guilty for getting so wrapped up in this strange tea party that she had not kept looking for Talyndra.

Talyndra’s gaze flickered to Emily, then back to the peculiar trio. “Scream?” she asked. “Wasn’t me. I was busy gathering our garments.” She held Emily’s leaf dress aloft, then eyed the group suspiciously. “Who are these ... people?”

Emily shot her a bewildered glance that said, “I don’t know either.”

The pink dwarf lady sniffed disdainfully. “A little green hussy, dressed in rags, barged into our private party, unannounced, and starts interrogating us? Now I’ve seen everything!” she said, turning her sharp gaze on Talyndra. “It is I who should be asking who you are! Or perhaps who you think you are!”

The bird-man bobbed his head in agreement, letting out a series of sharp chirps and clicks. The snake remained silent, its emerald eyes fixed on Talyndra, its forked tongue constantly flicking in and out, tasting the air.

Emily, sensing the escalating tension, scrambled to her feet, and placed herself between the pink dwarf and Talyndra. “Talyndra is my friend,” she said. She reached out for the leaf outfit Talyndra had brought, savouring the feeling of the leaves. “Thank you, Talyndra,” she said. “This is perfect. I’ll just put it on and then we can be on our way.”

The pink dwarf lady let out a gasp of horror and slapped Emily’s hands away with surprising force. “Good heavens, child!” she exclaimed. “You can’t possibly wear that! It’s ... it’s utterly dreadful! The craftsmanship is appalling, the material is substandard, and the overall design is simply barbaric!”

Talyndra bristled, her hand instinctively moving towards her hip, though she had not brought her twin swords. “Barbaric?” she growled, her eyes narrowing. “These are perfectly fresh leaves, sewn in a classic wood elf pattern!”

“I’m sure they are,” the dwarf lady replied, contempt dripping from her every word. “And while such a thing may be appropriate for a dirty tree-swinger such as yourself, they are an insult to our Lady Emily of Shimmerwood.”

“Maybe you’re confusing me with someone else,” said Emily, desperate to cover herself with the outfit that was right in front of her.

The pink lady chuckled. “Your name is Emily, is it not?”

Emily’s expression betrayed the truth of the woman’s statement, though she did not recall introducing herself to these people. The sickly scent that pervaded everything in this forest was starting to make her light-headed. She just wanted to put on some clothes, find the Shard of True Reflection and get out of here. Why did getting dressed always have to turn into such a major ordeal for her?

“Really, it’s fine,” she insisted to the pink lady, taking the leaf dress from Talyndra. “It’ll do for now.”

“Nonsense!” the pink lady declared, her voice ringing with authority. “We insist on providing you with an outfit worthy of your status.” She gestured towards Emily with a flourish. “Charles, fetch my spectacles!” she said to the bird-man. “And Seraph,” she addressed the snake, “be a dear and help our guest prepare for her fitting.”

The snake moved with lightning speed, abandoning the teapot and springing towards her. Its yellow eyes gleamed with a strange intensity, and before Emily could react, the snake had coiled itself around her body, its smooth scales squeezing gently against her skin. She gasped, her body tensing involuntarily as the snake constricted its coils, pinning her arms to her sides. There was a crash, and realized she had dropped her teacup.

“Don’t worry, dear,” the pink dwarf lady said, her voice saccharine. “Seraph won’t hurt you. He’s a darling, really.”

“Burn it!” Talyndra shouted, her hand again hovering over the absent hilt of her twin swords. “Use your fire, Emily!”

The pink dwarf lady, however, shook her head, her expression grim. “I wouldn’t advise that, dear,” she said, her voice laced with warning. “Seraph’s wouldn’t hurt a fly, not consciously, but he does have extraordinary reflexes. Survival instinct and all that. His venom is quite potent and very fast-acting. We wouldn’t want to risk an unfortunate accident, would we?”

Emily looked into the snake’s yellow eyes and felt the end of its tongue against her forehead. Its embrace tightened slightly. While she could summon her fire almost instantly, engulf herself and teleport back to the ruin, she may still not be fast enough to avoid a bite. She glanced at Talyndra, whose expression mirrored her own apprehension.

“Tell your pet to release her,” Talyndra said coldly.

The pink lady tittered with amusement. “Seraph is no one’s pet. He is my dear friend, and a kindred soul in matters of taste. I dare say his fashion sense is more exacting than even my own. He is merely protecting our dear friend Emily from the indignity of those rags.”

“Indignity!” Talyndra fumed. “You’ve been forcing her to stand her around here naked!”

“Any lady of taste would sooner bare it all than deign to adorn herself with that disaster!”

“It’s perfectly adequate,” Talyndra growled, holding the leaf dress out in front of her. It was quite similar to her own, a short sleeveless dress made of broad leaves.

The dwarf lady raised an eyebrow. “Adequate? My dear, ‘adequate’ simply isn’t in our vocabulary. Especially not for the Stoneshell Bearer.” She snatched the leaf dress from Talyndra’s grasp and turned it this way and that. “The stitching is haphazard, the leaves are uneven, and the overall design is just uninspired.”

“It’s a dress made of leaves!” Talyndra protested. “We’re on a mission here, not attending a debuntante ball!”

“A lady should always look her best,” the dwarf lady said. “But perhaps we can still work with this. It’ll be a challenge, but Maisy Hillflower never shrinks from a challenge. We’ll start with the material. Those leaves are far too coarse.” She turned to Charles, the bird-man, who handed her a pair of horn-rimmed spectacles. “Thank you, dear. Now, please fetch us some silk leaves from the whispering willows by the stream. And some dew-kissed petals from the moon orchids. We need something with a bit more shimmer.”

The bird-man bowed and scurried off into the mist.

“Now, the design,” the dwarf lady, Maisy Hillflower, continued, turning her attention back to the leaf dress. “It lacks ... flow. Movement. Drama.” She closed her eyes for a moment. “We’ll need to incorporate some cascading vines, perhaps some iridescent moss, and definitely some strategically placed gemstones. Yes, I suppose we might be able to salvage this after all.”

She handed the dress back to Talyndra. “Here,” she said. “Unweave this, and then we can decide what to keep. Some of these leaves may be acceptable as a base, but I think we will discard most of them.”

Talyndra glared at the dwarf, her hands clenched into fists. But, looking at Emily’s pleading expression and the snake that was still tasting her forehead, she took the dress and began to carefully unravel the woven leaves, her movements stiff with suppressed anger, the green tendrils of her magic bright and jagged.

Emily, still trapped in the snake’s coils, could only watch in frustrated silence, her cheeks burning with a mixture of embarrassment and indignation. She felt like a prize pig being prepared for a show. All the while, the sweetly nauseating scent of the mist intensified, and the snake’s scales began to feel clammy from her own sweat.

Maisy Hillflower, perched on a moss-covered rock like a tiny, pink queen, directed Talyndra’s every move with a relentless stream of criticism and instructions. “No, no, no! Not like that! You’re pulling too hard! Do you want to tear the leaves? Honestly, I’ve seen goblins with more finesse!”

Talyndra gritted her teeth, her fingers moving with increasing speed and precision as she unraveled the leaf dress. The vibrant green tendrils of her magic sparked and crackled around her hands.

“And the stitching!” Maisy continued, peering through her spectacles. “It’s atrocious! Utterly barbaric! Are you using thorns? Thorns! Have you no sense of decency? We’ll be using moonbeam silk, spun by the dreamweavers themselves. It’s finer than a spider’s web and twice as strong.”

After Maisy had rejected Talyndra’s third design concept, Emily tried to interject. “I appreciate the gesture, truly,” she said, her voice strained. “But we are in a little bit of a hurry here.”

Maisy Hillflower waved a dismissive hand. “Nonsense, dear! There is always time to look one’s best!”

The snake, Seraph, tightened its coils slightly, perhaps in agreement with Maisy’s assessment. Emily could feel its cool scales pressing against her skin, the pressure almost comforting despite the awkwardness of the situation.

Just then, Charles, the bird-man, returned, his arms laden with shimmering leaves, iridescent moss, and colorful flowers. He laid his bounty before Maisy, who examined each item with a critical eye.

“Excellent, Charles!” she exclaimed, her voice ringing with approval. “These silk leaves are exquisite! And the moon orchids ... divine! Now, let’s see what magic we can weave with these.” She turned back to Talyndra, her eyes gleaming with a manic energy. “Right, you! Pay attention! I’m going to show you how a real artist shapes nature’s bounty.”

For what felt like hours, Emily watched, trapped in the snake’s embrace, as Maisy Hillflower directed Talyndra in the creation of a new dress. The dwarf’s tiny hands moved with astonishing speed and precision, weaving the silk leaves, iridescent moss, and glittering gemstones into a garment that seemed to shimmer and shift with the light. Unlike Talyndra, Maisy did not use magic, but weaved and sewed like a mundane dressmaker.

Talyndra, her initial resentment gradually giving way to a grudging admiration, followed Maisy’s instructions, her own magic softening and blending with the dwarf’s meticulous craftsmanship. Occasionally, a flash of green would erupt from her hands, a spark of her own creative spirit asserting itself, only to be quickly subdued by Maisy’s sharp reprimand. “Not there! That’s too much! Ugh, I despair for wood elf kind!”

As the dress neared completion, Emily couldn’t deny its beauty. Maisy had transformed Talyndra’s rough and ready creation into a garment of great beauty. And unlike the work of the last seamstress she’d encountered, this dress had no conspicuously missing sections. She found herself eager to try it on, and not merely to regain some scrap of modesty. Clothing had become utilitarian during her time in Thessolan, but this dress awakened long-dormant feelings that were perhaps more appropriate for a department store changing booth than the middle of an enchanted forest. After all she’d been through, Emily decided not to begrudge herself the girlish excitement of trying on a pretty dress.

Finally, Maisy gave Talyndra a curt nod and took the dress from her, holding it up to the light. She gave a small sigh of satisfaction and cast a meaningful glance at Seraph.

Emily let out a breath as the snake uncoiled himself from her body, finally allowing her tensed muscles to relax. Seraph slithered back to the teatable and used his tail to pour a fresh cup of tea, which he lapped at with his darting forked tongue. Relieved and a little bit excited, Emily took the dress from Maisy and carefully stepped into it. She’d been expecting an outfit made of leaves to irritate her skin, but this one was so finely woven it felt as smooth as the softest silk.

“Stand up straight!” Maisy instructed. “Let’s see the dress properly!”

Emily did as she was instructed, pulling her shoulders back and stretching into her neck. She’d become unaccustomed to this sort of proud posture, to intentionally making herself the center of attention. At Maisy’s command, she flounced the dress playfully and spun around for her audience.

“Magnificent,” Maisy said finally. Then, turning to Talyndra, she added, “Perhaps you have the makings of a competent dress-maker after all.”

Talyndra merely rolled her eyes, but Emily could see a flicker of pride in her expression. She’d never admit it, but this strange pink elf lady had drawn the best out of her.

“Now that you’re suitably attired,” Maisy said, gesturing towards the forest with a sweep of her tiny hand, “you may proceed with your quest. The Shard of True Reflection lies deep within the heart of the Shimmerwood. Be warned, the path is fraught with illusions and deception. Only those who can see past the surface, who can discern the true reflection from its counterfeits will find what they seek.”

“How did you know we were looking for the Shard?” Talyndra asked, eyes narrow with suspicion.

“A lady has her intuition,” Maisy replied, winking.

Talyndra groaned. “That’s hardly an answer.”

Maisy waved a hand dismissively. “The denizens of Shimmerwood know all there is to know about Emily Stoneshell Bearer and her wood elf companion Talyndra Moss-Whisper. How else could we have helped them construct the perfect outfit?”

Talyndra’s eyes widened. “How did you know my name?”

But before Maisy could answer, the proceedings were interrupted by a loud rustling from the trees behind them. Everyone turned to see a figure emerge from the mist. It was a woman, with long, flowing hair. She was very visibly a woman, as her body was adorned only by an ornate mask that hid her face.

Emily and Talyndra exchanged bewildered glances. There was something eerily familiar about the figure’s features, her gait and posture.

Maisy let out a squeal of delight and clapped her tiny hands together. “Lady Emily!” she exclaimed, rushing forward to embrace the newcomer around the legs. “You’re here! We were beginning to think you’d forgotten all about our little tea party!”

The figure returned the hug, patting Maisy affectionately on the back. Then she looked straight at Emily and, in a slow, deliberate movement, reached up and removed the mask.

Emily gasped. Staring back at her was a face identical to her own, a perfect copy, down to the smallest freckle. The only difference was the figure’s expression, a cruel smile that Emily had never seen in a mirror.