Original series Suitable for all readers

 

Face in the Mirror 

By Sage Harper

 

 

 

Rhapsody sat at her dressing table, reading the spells she had scribbled into her childhood journal, during the phase when Wicca became trendy again and she’d wanted to be a witch.

She smiled, remembering the rituals. Her favourite spells, the notes on which she was reading now, were the love spells. Those that apparently prompted a vision of your future husband to appear in the mirror. Every year she would try them, and whilst they never worked, you could bet that next Halloween she would give them another go.

 

At first Rhapsody was dismissive, not believing in such things any more. But as midnight approached, her resolve had weakened.

‘Oh why not?’ she reasoned to herself ‘it’s just a silly game, a bit of harmless fun’.

 

 

She went on stand-by duty in the Amber room, and looked to the girls for some moral support.

“Yeah, sure, it’ll be fun,” Melody said. 

Destiny, who was about to go off duty, had stayed to hear about their plan. Rhapsody and Melody didn’t know how she would take it. Surely as a Catholic, Destiny would have no time for such things.

Destiny sighed; she knew such hocus pocus must be nonsense. Yet she couldn’t bring herself to spoil her friends’ fun.

“Oh fine, count me in.”

Rhapsody grinned. “Okay then, which one should we try?”

 

Hair Combing: Stand before a mirror in a candlelit room and comb your hair. You will soon see the image of your lover-to-be standing behind you.”

 

“Ooh I’m gonna try that one,” Melody announced, going off to her quarters. Then the thought occurred to her.

“You’ll cover for me, won’t you, Jules?”

Destiny rolled her eyes, but only in objection to the nickname. The Angels were forever covering for each other, and never objected. Having gained Destiny’s agreement Melody smiled and strolled on.

“Do report back, Mag,” Rhapsody called after her.

“SIG.”

 

 

After ten minutes Melody returned.

“Nope, didn’t see a thing.”

“Perhaps it does not work?” Destiny suggested.

“Or maybe I’m just set never to marry.” Melody affected a mellow dramatic sigh, but was grinning too much for it to have full effect.  “Right, now it’s your go, Dianne,” she added.

“Oh, Rhapsody knows who she shall marry,” Destiny said airily.

Noticing Melody’s perplexed expression, and having no desire to explain the comment, Rhapsody diverted attention from herself.

“Oh well then, Juliette must do a spell. Here, this one looks good.”  

“Walking Backwards,” she read.  

Standing outside and holding a mirror in your hand… walk backwards while saying:

"Round and round, O stars so fair!

Ye travel and search out everywhere.

I pray you, sweet stars; now show to me

this night who my future husband shall be!"

The image of your future spouse will appear in the mirror.”

 

“No that will not work; one cannot go outside at 40,000 feet,” Destiny remarked.

“Ah yes, that’s a point.”

 Just when she was about to give up, and declare a lucky escape, Destiny noticed a slip of paper that had fluttered to the floor. Curious, she picked it up and unfolded it. Yet another spell.

“Oh there you go, Juliette, that one will work.”  Melody grinned, getting in to it.

“We’ve got everything right here, and it’s nearly time. So go on,” Rhapsody implored.  

Destiny sighed; there was no way to get out of it. When the Angels were on a mission, you just couldn’t shake them off. She would have to humour them. 

“Well alright then,” she said, gathering all the necessary supplies. 

 

 

So Destiny entered her quarters, cleared off her dresser (well, tossed all her make up and ‘girly junk’ on to her bed), lit some scented candles (purely for effect) and prepared herself by re-reading the spell. She tried to quell the voice of her upbringing that screamed how wrong this was, that such a thing couldn’t work. If anything that spurred her on.

‘Oh, if the sisters from the convent could see me now,’ she thought with a smile.

 

“At midnight sit down in front of a mirror and cut an apple into nine slices.”

 

Destiny took the blade and neatly made the cuts. She took delight in the satisfying crunch, the contrast of ruby skin and pale flesh, the enticing scent now released. 

 

“Eat each slice from the tip of the knife.” 

 

Destiny savoured the taste, finding her mind gently lulled. She wasn’t even particularly concerned with the outcome. It was just nice to relax and have some quiet time alone.

 

“Before you eat the ninth slice, the image of your future lover will appear in the mirror and ask you for the final piece of apple.”

 

 

So engrossed had Destiny become that she didn’t hear the door open, and only became aware of the presence behind her on catching sight of his reflection in the mirror.

“Hi, er… what are you doing?” the vision inquired.

Destiny, caught in the act, suddenly felt rather foolish and went on the defensive.

“It’s none of your business, Captain. And what are you doing in my room anyway?”

Captain Magenta took a step back, with an expression of hurt.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to barge in on you. It’s just that, umm, you didn’t answer. So I wanted to make sure you were ok.”

Destiny smiled.

“I’m fine, Patrick, you worry far too much.”

“Yeah, that’s what they all say.”

He noticed the plate on the dressing table.

“Hope you don’t mind, but could I have that last bit of apple? I haven’t eaten for ages.”

Bien sûr, help yourself.” 

 

 “So, umm, are you doing anything tonight?” he asked to make conversation.

Non, why?”

“Oh, well then do you fancy coming along to the Halloween party? You don’t have to; if you don’t want… but it’d be nice for us to, er… hang out, or something.”

He gave her an eager look, the one Symphony had described as ‘the ickle puppy look’.  Which had later been coupled with ‘the kicked puppy look’ when it became apparent she wasn’t interested in him.

It took Destiny a moment to process what had happened. Surely it couldn’t be possible, but then really how much more likely was it to be a huge coincidence? 

She couldn’t help but smile.    

“Yes, that would be wonderful.” She took his arm. “Lead the way, mon chéri.”

 

 

The End

 

 

Author’s note:

 

This story was influenced by my interest in witchcraft.  Scrying (The act/art of seeing into the future) is a long standing tradition. 

The spells featured here are genuine examples, not just made up. (Well someone made them up, just not me). Having no personal experience of these spells, I cannot therefore claim their effectiveness.

 

 

Acknowledgements:

 

Thanks to Caroline Smith, for being a most excellent beta.

And Chris Bishop, of course, for everything.

 

 

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