Shadowed Dreamland

ii. broken

Narcissa, they called her, and her sisters have long thought that no name could have suited her better.

They would laugh, to see her now. She stands before the mirror, her eyes fixated on her reflection. The centuries of breeding sculpted her perfect face, her beautiful features. The careful diet she has followed since birth keeps her waist tiny, and a stray gene from her great grandmother gives her her beautiful blond hair.

Yet the small brown birthmark in the center of her chest is random, the sole imperfection to be found.

Her finger touches it gently. It feels no different then the rest of her skin, smooth and silky. But it should not exist.

She raises her wand and conceals it, returning her gaze to the mirror. She is perfect again, fourteen and more fair than even her mother and sisters.

But this century-old heirloom, it knows the secret.

It knows.

A single word, and the broken pieces fall to the floor before her feet in a cascade of glass.