Written for: QLFC, Round Two
Falmouth Falcons, Seeker
Mandatory: Indominus rex: Write about the invention of a magical object, potion, or other creation.
Word count (without AN): 1625
Driven by Desire
Armita glanced carefully at her creation—the beautiful golden framework, the flawless glass reflecting her every move, the clawed feet keeping the mirror upright. She could clearly see herself with her skin nearly golden in the dimming light, her long black hair pulled into a ribbon at the nape of her neck, her dark green eyes bright and clever, her flowing robes embellished in silver.
She had yet to prove herself, however, and knew her work wasn't finished.
Sure, the mirror did what any mirror should, but that wasn't enough for her. No, she needed more. She needed something that would cement herself in history. She needed a mirror that could give anyone their hearts desire. A mirror that would hand dreams on silver platters. A mirror that would put her name in books, that would cause witches and wizards alike to come to her, and only her, to fulfill their desire.
She would be important.
She would be revered.
She would be powerful.
Something swelled in Armita's chest and she raised her right hand, her wand hand. Words of an ancient language fell from her tongue, and she cast the final spell. An opaque, silver mist enveloped her and the mirror, reflecting what was left of the light in the room. If anyone were around, they would have been blinded.
They may have been deafened too, for Armita let out a strangled, agonizing scream.
Then everything was silent. The mist thinned and revealed the sight of the mirror.
Armita was nowhere to be seen.
/-\
A quiet groan left Armita's lips as she opened her eyes, forcing herself to become adjusted to the dim lighting. She was still in her workroom, and the mist seemed to have fully dissipated. There was something off about it, though. Everything seemed to have switched sides.
Her desk, which normally sat on the left side of the room, was pushed up against the right wall, her quill and ink settled on the left side of it. Her bookcase was on the opposite wall of the desk, just as it should be. Or, rather, exact opposite as it should be. The books were displayed in the mirror image of alphabetical order. After standing up, Armita gripped her wand in her left hand.
Eyebrows furrowing in confusion, she quickly slipped the wand into her right hand, the hand it belonged in, but it didn't seem to fit. It felt uncomfortable.
Chewing on her cheek, the witch took a few timid steps towards her creation, which now was embellished with the words, "I show not your face but your heart's desire," in an elegant script at the top.
She saw herself, clearly reflected, and her heart sank. Shouldn't something be happening? Shouldn't her heart's desire materialize? Armita quickly took a deep breath and shook her head. She was getting ahead of herself. Her heart's desire was the recognition of creating this thing. Once people saw it, experienced what it did, her desire would be fulfilled.
No need to get ahead of herself.
"Madame Armita," the voice of her favorite servant, Eridora, called. Armita watched through the mirror as the young girl walked into the room, wiping her hands on her light grey dress. "Dinner is ready and Lord Black is waiting for you."
Phineas was here already? Wonderful. He would be elated to see the progress she had made on her creation. He had been the one that encouraged her to seek her own desire.
"Tell him that I will be there shortly," Armita replied to Eridora's reflection. She still didn't bother to turn around. To her surprise, the servant girl didn't immediately bow and leave the room. Instead, Eridora took a few more steps in to the room.
"Madame Armita?" Eridora called again.
Insolent girl. Armita turned around, robes flaring out at the movement, silver embellishments reflecting the last of the dimming light.
No one was behind her.
Eyes wide and heart hammering, Armita turned back towards the mirror, eyes landing quickly on the servant girl. Head turning again, she observed the empty room around her. Where was Eridora?
"Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi?" Eridora voiced quietly. She stumbled over the words a bit awkwardly, and the insecurity in her voice caused Armita to turn around and face the mirror again. Armita could see that Eridora's eyes were fixed upon the inscription, so why did the servant girl spout nonsense?
The image of Eridora in wedding robes beside Phineas Nigellus Black flooded Armita's mind and both females gasped. Armita even stumbled back a few feet, shutting her eyes, trying to get the image out of her head, but she couldn't. It seemed to be burned directly into the lenses of her eyes.
"Lord Black!" Eridora stammered. Armita watched her turn around, seeming to discover that she was alone. The servant girl quickly turned back to the mirror before whispering, "I must be going mad."
Armita was thinking the exact same thing. Shaking her head, she tried to clear the image of Eridora beside her beloved, her betrothed, her Phineas, but it just wouldn't leave. Not until Eridora began walking away from the mirror, towards the door.
Realization flooded Armita's mind. Her mirror hadn't worked out in the way she had hoped. It didn't give a person the heart's desire, but merely showed it to them, giving them a glimpse of what they truly want in life. A maddening object.
And Armita was inside of it, seeing her own desire, the mirrors completion, but not actually partaking in it. Not in the way she had hoped.
Armita ran up to the mirror and pressed her hands against the cool glass. "Eridora," she cried out frantically, already knowing in her heart that her effort was in vain. "Eridora please, don't go!" Her voice cracked under the strain of her plea, and Eridora continued walking away.
"Get Phineas," she tried, pushing against the mirror, hitting it with all of her might. If anyone could help, he could. Tears began to stream down her cheeks and sobs wracked her shoulders. "Eridora, please."
Eridora closed the door when she left the room, and all light seemed to go with her. In the darkness, Armita crumpled to her knees, hands and forehead resting against the glass. She halfheartedly hit her hand against the cold surface once more before giving up, slumping listlessly beside the creation that was supposed to put her name in books, not incarcerate her.
/-\
Armita awoke to the sound of voices. Years had passed, though she was unsure of how many, and she had changed locations more than once. She was currently in an abandoned classroom at Hogwarts, but that wasn't important to her. Nothing was important to her.
Her name had been well known for a brief amount of time, but only as the young witch who went missing. The mirror was also known for some time, but only as the thing that drove people insane.
Phineas was dead. Eridora was dead. The countless wizards and witches that ended up in front of her, subjecting themselves to the torture of seeing their desires, were dead.
Her mirror didn't fulfill desires, it cultivated madness, induced insanity, and killed reality.
And she was still alive, suffering for her vanity, for her ambitions, for her desire to be known and to have power.
Spiritless, she lifted her head to the scene on the other side of the mirror. The man she had come to know as Albus Dumbledore was walking beside the woman Armita knew as Minerva McGonagall. She wasn't sure what they were there for, but she could tell neither wanted to look into the mirror.
Over the past little while—the exact time unknown to Armita—events unfolded that were difficult to explain. Albus had discovered the mirror and enchanted a stone inside of it, not where Armita was, but a dimension between hers and reality. A man tried to take the stone, but boy succeeded in retrieving it. The whole thing was nothing more than an annoyance to Armita. All of it was outside of her control, so she didn't see the point in taking interest.
"What are we doing with the mirror, Albus?" Minerva asked and Armita turned and rested her back against the glass, closing her eyes.
"We are destroying it," Albus said calmly, "so no witch or wizard is ever again driven to insanity because of the images it shows."
Armita's eyes flew open and she hastily turned around to face Albus. His clear blue eyes seemed to meet hers, and her lips curled into a snarl. He had spent countless hours, sitting before the mirror and watching images of his sister, of his lover, of his own ambition, playing out over and over. Armita hated those images, and she knew that Albus did too.
He hated how weak he was, how dependant on the mirror he had become. He hated how he had to destroy a beautiful piece of magic to keep from falling prey to it.
More words were exchanged between Minerva and Albus, but Armita couldn't hear them. Blood was pounding in her ears and there was a feeling in her chest that she couldn't describe. It had been so long since she had felt anything other than sadness or disinterest. Could this be anticipation?
With her heart hammering in her chest, she watched Albus and Minerva draw their wands and fire a curse in tandem.
Armita's last moments weren't painful. They were exhilarating. She knew that she would finally be free.
AN: For all of those who might have been worried (or simply curious) about my absence as of late... I've been busy with work. I just got home from a pretty crazy business trip, have been dealing with my disorder acting up (look up EDS if you are curious... I also have POTS.. It made me pass out at work yesterday :/ ), and I also just recently got some pretty devastating family news. However, I'm back and needing to write. Look for a new update of The Silver Dragon soon!
Love you all!