She had often pondered the possibility that time could slip past its boundaries and become something other than just those hours one through twelve, repeated in an endless loop for all time. Sometimes people believe things to be so simply because they have been told that this is the way it is and that there are no alternatives. The mind can take over, and make one blind to other possibilities, but she knew better. She knew that sometimes the Witching Hour can stretch itself like sweet taffy, and wander on into hour thirteen. It is in that hour that true perception can begin.

She knew that she remembered nights after the candles had grown weary and extinguished themselves and she had fallen half asleep herself.... nights like this one where she hovered in between waking and sleeping and breathed air that was not air and heard sounds that were not sounds. Nights when he would materialize just beyond the grasp of her peripheral vision.... the dark angel that wasn't really an angel at all. She only thought of him as such because he had sweeping wings made of shadows that would stir the air from time to time as he spoke to her of many things.... of glass.... of the nature of being. It was the attempt of a limited human mind to make sense of the limitless.

It was right then when the last candle died, that she sensed he was present. She once more heard the sighing of the wings that were not of this world, and she heard him announce himself in his clarion voice. "My name is Malloreth. I am a reflection from beyond the pale. This night marks the conclusion of your education."

"I knew my mind was still with me. I have only been growing navy blue wings and learning how to use them."

He went on to explain to her the nature of good and evil and how they are actually the same thing. They are simply two sides to the same coin.... mirror images of each other. Dark is merely light turned inside-out and upside-down so that you cannot see how bright it truly is. It takes a sharper intellect to see the beauty in darkness, but once you do, you never lose the ability. It is like learning to read a mirror language.... like learning to find your way in an alternate reality that simply follows the shadows of all the same rules. The day that you learn this, is the day that you find salvation and are able to become more than your shell.... to move on beyond the veil you wear each day of your mortal existence.

"And my veil never really fit, did it. I never was able to stop myself from trying to see past the edges."

He spoke of how his name follows this same rule. Malloreth is actually "salvation" spelled backwards and translated into the language of the mirror realm. The otherworldly sighing of his wings is actually the rustling of earthly feathers heard in reverse. The aura of sticky-sweet darkness about him feels dark because it is an aura of light reversed, yet reversed only. He is an alternate view of salvation, yet salvation all the same, and he has come here this night to save her.

"It's true. You are opium with teeth. You bite and devour, yet I feel no pain. Maybe pain itself is part of the lie. I can see my blood flowing out of my body and transforming itself. It is blood no longer. It is cinnabar, and I feel so awake."

He is writing her name on the back of her heart. He is spelling it backward and transforming it into its mirror. She no longer remembers what it was when seen through the veil, but now it is Elaya Moria. She was Elaya on the day of her birth, and she is Elaya again now on the day of her mortal death. On some level, she was Elaya all along and she knew this somewhere hidden -- somewhere within -- miles behind her eyes.

"But they have always told me that dying would hurt. It would feel cold -- not warm like this. Like cherries. Like cinnabar," she says.

"I am so very sorry to tell you this," he replies, "but they have been lying to you your whole life. After all, dying is nothing more than being born in reverse."

Want to comment on this Short Stories? Sign up to Edit Red and you will be able to comment on Short Stories and get access to: Upload your own stories and poems, get readers and their feedback, promote your work...