1 The Eventide

Footsteps padded over marble floors while the soft echoes of boyish giggling bounced off the corners of the spacious sun hall. Eyes as blue as the sky scanned over high pillars and beneath gold and silver gilded furniture, watching for signs of rose colored hair, fair skin, and a smile that could rival the brightness of the sun itself. The little prince searched, occasionally wiping his sweaty palms on the side of his pantaloons, already calloused from mock sword fighting earlier that day. He was searching for his older brother, twin, and future king, hoping he'd finally beat the other's record at winning most games of hide and seek for that week.

From within the Eifhendorr Castle, it seemed that no storm surged from the outside. The high triangular stained glass windows of the sun hall welcomed rivers of light that could fool a man of the time of day. It would be difficult for anyone to hide in a room forever bathed in daylight, decked with flora and fauna that shimmered gold, yellow and bronze.

Of course, save the crowned prince whose special talents made him invisible in the sun's glow.

"Where are you, brother?"

Unfortunately, Qionne could not find his brother in the one place he thought he would.

"Not in the sun hall either," he murmured, scratching his salmon colored hair–the perfect imitation of his brother's. He was sure that his twin would choose the place to hide. His twin might have guessed that Qionne would search the sun hall first.

He turned his head to the side, watching the faint light from windows bounce off a portrait of glass. Qionne thought he saw his brother staring back at him.

"Gah!"

He staggered, eye twitching slightly. It shocked the little prince until he realized that the image was only a mere reflection of himself.

His shoulders drooped in relief and composed himself. Crystal eyes met with the boy reflected against the glass, looking very much like the crowned prince Qionne was looking for. Except the eyes looked fierce instead of gentle, his arms slightly muscled instead of lanky, his hair messy instead of neat, and his white silk robes soiled with dirt instead of being clean and immaculate. These factors were the only things that set Qionne apart from his twin brother. While the younger and braver prince was the warrior, the older and kinder Prince Frei was to become Elfeinne's future king.

Which reminded him that he needed to find the crowned prince before Salazar realized they were gone.

He left the sun hall, returning to the darkness of the corridors and proceeded through the stairs that

lead to the forbidden fourth floor. Briefly pausing, Qionne remembered that their Father didn't allow them there until they were old enough. He didn't understand what being 'old enough' had to do with climbing up a floor of their own castle, but he knew that Frei would never break the rules just for one silly little game of hide and seek.

Nevertheless, he took the flight of stairs. He thought that looking for his brother seemed like a valid excuse for visiting the 'forbidden floor'. Should the king's rune guard discover him, he'd just blame his older brother for being really good at hide and seek. The younger prince smirked at the thought of getting his older brother into trouble should he lose the game.

The fourth floor was dark, or at least, too dark for Qionne's liking. It appeared as if the ceilings were the night sky itself, starless and foreboding and far away. The only light present belonged to the three wraiths hovering protectively over him like white translucent female ghosts. As he went further, his barefoot steps left imprints against the cold black floor: a faint bluish white glow as proof that he was there. It was as if the spirits buried from deep within the walls of the hall sensed his presence, eliciting a deep murky rumble of recognition.

Qionne heard a distant, mumbling sound. There was no question about whom the voice belonged to.

"I got you now, Frei." Qionne smirked triumphantly as he sprinted quietly through the darkness.

"I can't come with you okay?"

"Trust me..."

Qionne slowed his pace for a bit. Aside from the soft familiar voice of his twin, he could hear another whisper.

"Frei?" he whispered, clicking his tongue right after.

'He can't hear you from this distance, dimwit,' he added as an afterthought.

"My brother will find us anytime soon," he heard Frei murmur. "I can't come with you,"

"Frei!" Qionne called out, this time with a louder voice.

Qionne felt an odd chill run down his spine, realizing he was left in the company of empty elvish armory and portraits made of stained glass. The wraiths guarding him had fled, speeding towards the direction of the older twin.

"Hey, wait up guys!" he called for the wraiths. "Slow down!"

But the wraiths did not slow down, neither did they wait for the younger prince. In their haste, Qionne caught on to what was happening.

"Frei's in danger," he whispered, his expression aghast.

The little prince ran, letting the strength in his feet push him forward. He followed the wraiths who were supposed to guard him, sprinting through the darkness and ignoring the fact that the eyes of people from the portraits seemed to trail after him in warning.

"Frei!"

The echo in his steps woke a few lesser guardian wraiths from the nearby pillars. Their voices rang loud in Qionne's ears, chasing after him as they ran... and ran... and ran...

"Frei, where are you?!"

The larger wraiths led him to a spiral staircase connected to the ebony tower. Their father had warned them countless times about going within fifty paces of it, telling stories about an evil company that might be hidden within the confines of its peak. He climbed up, fearless as he followed the speed of the wraiths, fighting the wariness and the wild beating of his heart as the lightning and thunder storm from the outside crackled and boomed.

At the end of the stairs was a door made of iron, locked by a seal made of steel and magic. He pushed the door with all the strength his young limbs could muster, but even as a child who knew how to fight enemies three times his size, Qionne could not pry it open.

"Frei! Open the door!" he yelled, nearly whimpering as lightning and thunder answered in his brother's stead.

Suddenly the little prince heard faint voices. He wasn't sure if they were the spirits of the castle or just mere voices in his head, but the sounds gave him an eerie kind of comfort. This was not the first time he had encountered these voices, and right then, Qionne welcomed their invasion in his conscious mind.

Use us, Maribagoth....

Command the sylphs, Begotten of Maya...

Use us, Son of Deu...

He nodded in understanding, yielding to the voices as he tapped into his gift and birthright. The younger prince used his influence over every wraith of the castle, commanding the winds with his subconscious to part the clouds. The evening clouds did part, letting the light of the full moon flood the tower. The soonest the light touched his hair and his skin, once rose colored hair had turned a brilliant silvery white, glowing like the moon itself as eyes burning white and cold with authority gleamed in absent fury.

"Raetha," he spoke, which in Elfeinne tongue meant 'open'.

The seal of steel and magic melted before him. Qionne kicked the door open with his bare foot, letting it swerve open with a loud bang. Within the large room filled with antique artifacts, clothes and furniture, and silver, stood the crowned prince at the center, staring at a full body mirror rimmed in bronze and twelve precious jewels.

Never had Qionne seen Frei look so small beside anything than when he stood before the glass. His white princely robes trimmed in gold looked like dark blue silk trimmed in black, his hair looked ashen and grey, and the magia surrounding him felt cold. It was almost as if the sight of him was an apparition, a ghost, and yet Qionne knew that it was his brother Frei. It was too dark for him to see what Frei saw through the mirror, but it was not a sight Qionne wanted to see. The younger prince was too stunned, quickly turning his face to the floor displaying the markings of the sun and moon. His heart beat ten times faster, his sweaty palms becoming more sweaty, his breathing becoming ragged, his feet slowly betraying him.

Where was the shroud covering the mirror? Gone.

"Come with me, child... to the Underland..."

A voice from beyond the mirror Qionne refused to see called out to Frei. The sound of a woman, sly and sensual and vicious, beckoned to the older twin. The wraiths came forth, surrounding the prince protectively as a harmony of hisses challenged the unknown enemy to try and go any further.

"I can't," the crowned prince replied. "You come here instead."

Moonlight flooded the room, darkness retreating to every corner as forces hissed hauntingly in Qionne's presence. Invisible forces only the elvish part of him could see gathered around Frei with evil purpose. Qionne knew they were challenging the wraiths, having every intention to harm the child in their protection.

"Cooome here Maribegoth!!!!"

The mirror glowed a sinister green. Judging by the deafening shrieks of the wraiths, Qionne knew that something formless came out of the mirror, wanting to claw at his brother.

"Come with me to the Underland!!!"

Qionne's blood ran cold as he ran to Frei's side, pulling him by the arm away from the mirror. The younger dragged Frei out until they left the room before giving him the chance to protest. The wraiths lunged at the forces their human eyes couldn't see, igniting a chorus of deafening shrieks and cries that could make a man's spirit wither. The twins saw how the wraiths clawed at invisible forces through their peripheral vision, and it was a sight they were glad they wouldn't see for long.

The door shut the soonest they stepped out.

Qionne's heart hammered against his chest as he listened to the spectral battle taking place within the haunted room. The stories told at his bedside gave him enough insight on what to expect from the anger of the wraiths. His grip on his brother's wrist was tight, his vision blurry, his blood still chilled from the events that had just taken place.

He let go of Frei's wrist, his hair still faintly glowing because of the moonlight. Qionne's eyes were now the same color as his brother's, staring angrily at Frei.

"What were you doing?!" Qionne nearly screamed at his brother.

The older twin gave him a puzzled look, "Do what?"

"What were you doing here in the tower?!" Qionne scolded him, his cheeks turning red with frustration. "You know what father said about coming here! You could have been killed!"

The crowned prince shrugged. "But I'm still alive."

"You were messing with the Looking Glass!" Qionne argued further, taking in how the vibrancy of his brother's skin and hair had turned back to its usual luster. "And why am I the one scolding you? This thing is usually the other way around!"

Frei chuckled. "This is just a one-time thing, don't worry."

"Well you can't... you can't make me not worry, okay?!" Qionne replied, voice slightly shaking. "There was some weird stuff inside that room! And you were.... you were..."

Frei raised his brows, completely oblivious to what his younger twin was saying.

"You were like a ghost..." Qionne said breathlessly. It was the one sight of the evening that shook him the most. "It was like you didn't have any magia at all."

Frei placed his arm over his shoulders, supporting him to stand. "You used a lot of magia, Qionne. You're still not used to using your gift."

"Shut up," he huffed. "I had to because you were in trouble."

The elder twin smiled apologetically, "You're always reckless when you worry about me. I should be the one protecting you. I'm the older brother."

"Ugh, again with the 'older brother' thing!" Qionne rolled his eyes. "Seriously Frei, sometimes I think you went out first by mistake."

Frei chuckled. "You have a point. But seriously, I was doing fine. And on the bright side, you found me."

Qionne huffed in disagreement. "You were doing fine my butt! You didn't do anything! You just stood there like a mannequin!"

"Well, I knew that you were there." Frei smiled cheekily. "You always save me before I get the chance to save myself. Looks like this is another one of those 'I owe you' moments."

"Shut up," he murmured, giving his brother a weak punch at the shoulder.

In spite of the gradually lightening atmosphere, he hoped that the sight of his brother looking like... like the image of death, might have only been a figment of his imagination.

His thoughts journeyed back to the mirror within the room, and the chilling voice that came from beyond the Looking Glass.

"You.... you spoke to the Jabberwocky," he murmured. "You... you spoke to the monster beyond the glass."

His brother's eyes widened, and then he shook his head sheepishly and smiled. "Silly Qionne. I was just talking to a friend."

Heat left Qionne's body, "Wait... what? What do you mean 'talking to a friend'?"

"A friend," Frei repeated as if hoping the answer was enough to satisfy his brother.

"No." Qionne grit his teeth. "You know the stories, Frei. You know the stories! We have to tell Father!"

His brother held him by his shoulders, staring into his eyes with a gentle fierceness Qionne only ever associated with Frei's rare instances of bravery.

"Tell no one that I was here," he said, eyes both courageous and pleading. "Please."

"But Father said--"

"Qionne," Frei interrupted him. "Not everything Father or the Elder Council says is the right thing. Even adult's stories can be wrong too."

This confused the younger prince. He could understand the art of warfare as well as a teenage fighter, but not the riddles of old men. Or young men. Riddles was the province of Frei.

"I don't get it," Qionne admitted, suspicious, worried and afraid for his brother. "All I get is that staring at that mirror brings bad luck. And you need to be purified."

Frei shook his head, a cross between dismay and wariness that could belong to a man ten years older sketched across his young face, "Please Qionne. Don't tell anyone. Please."

Qionne hesitated. He loved his brother very much, and though Frei has been known to cause less trouble than his younger twin, the mischief Frei involved himself with was usually a big deal for the council.

Like his queer belief for a mythical land beyond the west sea. Like shunning Elfeinne's ancestral gods.

Like looking at a cursed piece of glass.

"Promise me."

As the clouds once again shielded the light of the moon, flooding through the window, the rosy sheen on Qionne's hair returned, making him look every bit identical to Frei.

They stared at one another for a time: a habit they had developed in their youth as if the other was a proverbial mirror of themselves. The resemblance was often a vulnerability both twins had, for it reminded them both of how important one was to the other.

"Promise me," Frei repeated with a firmer tone.

Qionne sighed. He knew that Frei would die for him, and he would kill for Frei. While one was altruistic and the other brimming with righteous pride, Frei was nothing without Qionne, and Qionne was nothing without Frei.

They were bound to protect each other.

"Okay," he promised.

Frei's shoulders sagged with relief, giving his twin a smile of gratitude. But even as Qionne promised to protect his brother's secret, he knew that keeping the truth would not protect him from the consequences of looking at the mirror. Or talking to 'a friend' beyond it.

They've returned to the company of their family in the second floor, with the rest of the Council oblivious to their whereabouts prior. It was as if nothing ever happened: the innocent game of hide and seek, the battle of the wraiths against an invisible enemy, the storm, the secrets...

Qionne pretended that nothing ever happened.

The skies cleared the following morning as if the heart racing moment from the previous stormy night was but a scary dream. The young prince awoke, ready to face the day pulling pranks on the elders or train with Salazar. Preferably, he'd spend the day with Frei, playing one of their little games again. They would go to the Creeping Forest and look for fairy babies' cowls or go pick Lockwood berries and give them to children from the orphanage. But his day did not go as he wished it to be once his eyes landed on the empty bed across him.

It wasn't natural for Frei to leave their bedchamber without waiting for Qionne to rise.

The younger prince went out of his room, ignoring the fact that he was still in his sleeping robes as he ran through the hall in search for Frei. He saw one of his mother's maidservants approaching him with a sorry look on her face. She stopped before him and bent down, patting his head gently.

Qionne moved his head away. "What's wrong with you?"

The maid did not answer quickly. "I... was sent to escort you to the throne room, your highness."

"Where is my brother?" he asked.

"Please follow me, your highness," the maidservant replied as she rose to her feet and led him to the throne room. The little prince noted that she did not really answer his question.

It was when they approached the throne room that Qionne heard voices. They were loud, bickering among each other while a woman's cry resounded above them. The maidservant did not stop the prince as he worriedly bolted through the door to find the source of the woman's cry.

What Qionne found inside was the Council of Elders and the King and Queen, surrounding shards of glass scattered over the floor. There lay a large bronze frame, missing its mirror, with sparks of magia coming out of it like dying flames.

The prince recognized the mirror instantly.

"What is the Looking Glass doing here?" He lifted up his eyes and locked gazes with his father.

"Where is Frei?"

The tall and proud king said nothing. Instead, he stared down at his son in the hardest and most melancholic way possible. No matter how strong and powerful the king's white silk robes and corn blond hair made him appear, it did not hide the dread that sketched across his face.

Qionne turned to his weeping mother, kneeling from beside his father as she cradled a shard of the mirror close to her heart. He'd never seen the lovely woman so broken before, and it frightened the child.

He faced the company of thirteen old men with beards and robes the color of snow, hovering above them in their enchanted golden seats. Qionne's eyes fixed on the youngest of them, who still looked strong in spite of old age. He looked the least mournful of them all, the most composed of them all. Perhaps Qionne would get the answers from the man.

"Salazar, where is Frei?"

Salazar made his descent before the prince, standing and looking more threatening than his father. Qionne wasn't fazed. He was just as silent as the others, save his sobbing mother.

Qionne was confused and impatient. He had enough of the adults' silence.

"Where is my brother?!"

The ground shook while the wraiths, flames, sprites, and every other protector of the castle came out of the walls and ceilings of the room. The Council cowered, save Salazar and the king and queen, huddling close to each other as the air around the young prince thickened and crackled with energy.

"Calm yourself, Qionne," his father finally spoke, quickly diminishing his son's power and dismissing the protectors with a wave of his arm. "You have not yet controlled your Authority over the guardians of this castle."

Qionne blinked. "What? But I don't have Authority over the protectors..."

His voice faltered. He finally understood.

"You do now," the king answered, turning his back as he asked two of the queen's servants to lead her out of the throne room.

Qionne's knees gave way. "What?"

The little prince stared at Salazar eyes wide with shock as his shoulders shook.

"The crowned prince is dead,"Salazar told him. "His soul is now sealed beyond the Looking Glass."