Mirrorworld: the Mirror of Y'tilaer
Part One: Reflections
DarkSlayer84
"The Mirror symbolizes looking into your soul…"
—Ruth Kirk, JAPAN: Crossroads of East and West—
The Mirror shimmered and shivered on the edges of its border, the dragon-headed frame that had kept it prisoner for countless centuries. Its surface glowed faintly in the oppressive gloom of the Black Tower's lowest level.
It was his, now: his prisoner and servant. Shang Tsung knew better than to brag: the Mirror of Y'tilaer, though not alive, still had a mind of its own. He must be careful, or it could destroy him. Angry as it was, the Mirror might reflect him as an old man, or an ordinary mortal, or a powerless infant.
Then there was the worst possibility: it might not reflect him at all. If that happened, he wouldn't even die. He would simply never have existed.
"It's powerful, that thing, whatever it is," said a woman behind him.
Shang Tsung turned to face her, shaking his head in irritation. Only one of the Tower's residents would be so addicted to magic that she'd dare to follow him here: Mileena, child of the Emperor. She'd been designed that way--a living tuning fork for magical energies. And, as usual, her homing instinct had proved right.
Tsung only wished she weren't so damn accurate all the time. Not when he would've rather kept this a secret. From everyone, but most of all from Shao Kahn, and Mileena was sure to tell him all she knew.
"You've a gift for stating the obvious, girl," he said smoothly. Mileena scowled at him, but not for long: she was far more interested in the Mirror.
"What is it, exactly?" she asked.
"I don't know what you mean," Shang replied, deciding to go for the 'innocent' act.
She hissed at him, an eerily snakelike sound. "That's no ordinary mirror," she said. "It's way too--loud." She 'heard' magic as a whistling, shivering song, and the louder the song, the stronger the magic.
"Besides," she went on, "If it were an ordinary mirror, you'd be preening in front of it."
Now it was Shang's turn to scowl.
"I do not preen," he muttered. "I care about my appearance, that's all."
"Uh-huh," Mileena said skeptically. "Right." She turned as if to leave and said, "Very well. I'll simply walk back upstairs and tell Father all about your little mirror-that-is-not-a-mirror."
"Wait!" Shang yelped, a good four notes higher than usual. He could snap the wench's neck with his bare hands, but facing Shao Kahn was something else again. If the Emperor realized his chief wizard was keeping secrets... Shang cleared his throat and forced himself to sound stern. "Wait, I said!"
"Tell me what the Mirror does, and I'll think about it," she said. He gave her a look that could've melted metal.
"All right, curse your pathetic soul!" he growled. It took him a moment to calm down.
Memories of his fall from the ledge of the Dragon Temple were still fresh in his head. Liu Kang had toppled him, sent him plummeting down onto the vicious hooked spikes rising up from the Temple floor.
Then, the Emperor had come, and healed him.
Even now, Shang could not say which was worse.
"The Mirror of Y'tilaer," he said at last. "No one's sure where it came from, or why it's here. Only one thing is certain: the Mirror is an object of vast power."
"And it just happens to be sitting in an unused corner of my father's basement," came another voice. It was like Mileena's but sweeter, lighter, as if the one who used it were on the edge of singing instead of speech: Kitana.
Almost as one, the other two turned on her, wildly different in their reactions. Mileena hissed again, and drew back as if she expected Kitana to hit her. Shang smiled—a wide, false, angry smile--and bowed deeply, power glowing red in his eyes.
"How...kind of you to grace us with your presence," he said smoothly.
"Welcome, sister," Mileena rasped, barely inclining her head. "We were having a discussion--"
"And it has something to do with the Mirror of Y'tilaer," Kitana finished briskly.
Mileena stared at Kitana as if she'd announced that horses could fly. (In Outworld, they could, but Mileena forgot this in a moment of panic.)
"What?" Kitana asked, shrugging a little. "I paid just as much attention in history class as you did...when you weren't sleeping through it. All those Moonrise festivals..." she shook her head. "You never came home before midnight."
"You were the top student in class," Mileena said. "When you bothered to show up, anyway."
It was Shang Tsung who brought an end to the argument.
"Enough!" he snarled, with such force that the two of them shut up instantly. "Do you want the whole Tower to know we're here? This is no time for petty bickering!"
"This is no time for petty bickering," Mileena mimicked. "You should talk, wizard," she muttered in disgust.
"She's right," Kitana added, "you never could resist an argument with Rayden over whose...domain was bigger." She said it with complete sincerity, but laughter sparkled in her deep brown eyes.
Shang merely glared at her.
"You, I will deal with later," he promised, almost too softly to hear, before going on with his lecture. "The Mirror is a reflection of our world, though it reflects only what it wants to, and the way it wants to. Beyond that, I know very little. There aren't many legends concerning the Mirror, except that it is dangerous."
"I meant to ask you something," Mileena began. But whatever she had been about to say, it would have to wait. High above, in the top of the Tower, bells announced the time. The bells, rather than echo into silence, instead gave out a low, mournful sound that reminded Kitana of the screams of the dying.
"Mid-morning," she said quietly. She had been dreading the arrival of this day for some time now.
There would be practice matches in the Courtyard, preparation for the Tournament against Earth's fighters tomorrow.
"At last," Mileena hissed. The Tournament had been long in coming, and it was finally here.
The three of them paused to scowl at each other once more before striding silently up the stairs.
Mortal Kombat was about to begin...again...
Unnoticed by the three warriors, the Mirror once more shivered on its hinges.
