“UGHHH.”
The drakkai was bored. Bored. BORED. Rain poured down outside, shrouding the world beyond her window in a gray pallor – even the birds were silent, sheltering from the driving storm just as she was.
Her phone was still and quiet – evidently everyone else was either still asleep or busy, as even the usual haunts were quiet as she flopped back on her bed, staring at the ceiling.
Or, at least, she was – until she noticed her mirror.
Usually just used to inspect outfits or even to throw clothes over if the chair or bed weren’t close enough, the standing mirror had been in the corner of her room for years, at least – reflecting just enough of the room to see the window, and little else.
Today, though, the view had… changed.
Instead of the perfect reflection of her room, a new room existed on the other side of the mirror – garbed in finery and flowing cloth, white curtains and crimson plush carpeting. It drew Xena in like a moth, her gaze unable to pull away even as she stood, crossing the room to stare inwards.
Nevermind the fact there was no reflection of her in this mirror – it was as if it was a window into a world beyond her own, tantalizingly close yet just out of reach.
Slowly, carefully, she reached out a claw to touch the glass.
The instant contact was made, the mirror’s surface rippled as if a rock had been lobbed into a pool of water, her claw sinking in slightly.
This only made the drakkai more curious.
Glancing over her shoulder, Xena considered simply laying back down and forgetting whatever strangeness awaited her – but boredom won out, yet again. Nothing ventured, nothing gained, right?
She pushed her paw through, meeting resistance as if she was trying to push her way through gelatin. It fought, pushing back with surprising strength, but she was simply stronger – slipping through the barrier out of her room and into… wherever this was.
The room was warm, a scent not unlike cloves filling the space – large cushions and comfortable furniture were scattered here and there, a small portrait high above containing a framed face of some sort of rabbit, peering down at her.
Huh. She pinched herself, closing her eyes.
Nope. Still here.
Whoever this room belonged to was clearly of some importance, as she snooped through their belongings. Finery and objects she had no name for, jewelry of metals unimagined and household devices not yet conceived.
Again, though, she turned her attention to the mirror.
Her room was still there, true, but… hazier. A slight reflection of the room she was in had fallen over it, almost as if the image has been double exposed.
Oh, well. She’d head back soon enough, right?
As she continued to look through the room, she… suddenly found herself experiencing a strange deja vu. She’s been here before, hadn’t she? No. Yes?
Xena stopped, rubbing her head with a shockingly soft paw for a moment before she realized what was different about that, tugging it away to take a closer look. Her claws were gone, replaced by soft cream and wheat-colored fur – finely manicured and shampooed to be soft and shiny.
She stared at her paw for a moment, before shrugging. It seemed odd, but if she didn’t have claws why had she assumed that would’ve hurt?
Her ears, gently tugging upwards as she lounged in the grand, soft bed that occupied the large corner of the room, didn’t draw her attention either – nor did the reddish-brown hair, spilling down her back and over her face, sprouting small holite flowers that bloomed and blossomed in the afternoon sun.
She grew more at-home, house clothes becoming the nightwear of nobility – fine pseudosilks and linens, cradling the increasingly leporine drakkai in dream-like comfort. Her eyes gained flecks of gold, spreading through the iris like wildfire, until with a few blinks, their eyes had stopped itching. Perhaps they’d been more tired than they thought?
Kye sat up, horns dwindling away, as something caught their attention. Their mirror had cracked?
“Hm.”
The Prince swung their paws out of their bed, gently padding over to take a closer look. Sure enough, a crack ran from the bottom frame to the middle, perfectly down the center line of the mirror – and, for a moment, Kye swore they saw something else in the reflection, but a blink later it was just… themself, and their room.
For good measure, they turned the mirror away.
“A nap might be in order,” The bunny said aloud to no one in particular, drawing the curtains.
“It certainly beats being bored.”