Festival of Lights

Bajie sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose as if the very idea of using an eluvian exhausted him.

Alright, so here’s the thing, he began, his voice taking on the tone of someone making a reluctant confession. These eluvians—sure, they’re open for use. People come and go through them all the time, like it’s the most normal thing in the world. But me? I don’t trust the blasted things.

He gestured broadly, as if to encompass every mysterious mirror in existence.

You ever think about how they work? Step through a pane of glass, and bam, you’re in another city? Who’s to say they don’t scramble you up a bit on the way through? Maybe one day, you step in, and you’re missing an ear or a spleen when you come out the other side. Doesn’t sit right with me, Leena. Not one bit.

Despite his clear discomfort, he straightened his coat and let out a resigned huff.

But…time’s short. And if we don’t get that paper, this festival’s gonna flop harder than a drunk sailor trying to dance. So, yeah, we’re gonna use the eluvian. And yeah, I’ll be muttering a dozen prayers under my breath the whole way.

He jabbed a thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the mirror’s location.

Luckily for us, they’re not locked up or anything. Just sitting there, all shiny and smug, waiting to mess with someone’s day. All we’ve got to do is stroll up, step in, and hope we come out the other side in one piece. Easy as pie—assuming you trust elven magic more than I do.

Bajie gave her a long, appraising look, his usual grin tempered by the weight of his unease.

So, what do you think? Wanna gamble on the ancient mirror, or do we start folding lanterns out of cabbage leaves? Because it’s one or the other, love.

@Leena Craynore