"The scariest thing about fear isn’t facing it—it’s realizing it has been part of you."
Notty stood in the center of the studio, the air thick with tension. The grand space looked eerily familiar, its walls adorned with towering shelves of glowing fabric bolts and sketches that seemed to watch her every move. Yet there was something unsettling about it—something wrong. The room felt alive, and not in the comforting, magical way she was used to. This was different, as though the studio itself was waiting for her to falter.
“Well, this isn’t ominous at all,” Ludikrousz muttered, peering at a mannequin that seemed to shift positions every time he looked away. “Your subconscious has a flair for the dramatic ones.”
“Funny, I was just thinking the same about you,” Notty shot back, though her voice lacked its usual bite. Her eyes were fixed on the far wall, where a massive mirror stretched from floor to ceiling, its surface rippling like water.
“What’s that?” Ludikrousz asked, following her gaze.
“I don’t know,” she admitted, taking a cautious step forward. “But I think we’re about to find out.”
As they approached the mirror, the room seemed to darken, the glowing fabrics dimming until the only light came from the mirror itself. Notty’s reflection stared back at her, but it wasn’t quite right. The figure in the glass looked older, worn down, her once-vivid eyes dulled by exhaustion. Her hands were calloused and trembling, the faint shimmer of magic around them flickering like a dying flame.
“That’s not me,” Notty whispered, her voice trembling.
“Looks like you to me,” Ludikrousz said, though his tone was unusually soft. “Just… a little worse for wear.”
The reflection tilted its head, a bitter smile twisting its lips. “Notty, the great designer,” it said, its voice dripping with sarcasm. “Always pushing, always chasing perfection. And for what? Another gown? Another fleeting moment of applause?”
Notty froze, her breath catching. The reflection’s words cut deeper than she cared to admit. “That’s not true,” she said, though even she could hear the uncertainty in her voice.
“Isn’t it?” the reflection sneered. “You pour everything into your work, hoping it’ll make you feel whole. But it never does, does it? Because deep down, you’re terrified. Terrified that you’re not good enough. That you’ll never be good enough.”
Ludikrousz stepped forward, his jaw tight. “Alright, that’s enough. I’m the only one allowed to be sarcastic around here, and you’re definitely not invited.”
The reflection turned its gaze to him, its smile widening. “And you, Ludikrousz. Always pretending not to care, hiding behind your charm and your wit. But we both know you’d fall apart without her, don’t we?”
“Wow,” Ludikrousz said, his voice strained but light. “You’re like a bad review and a therapy session rolled into one.”
Notty almost laughed, but the weight of the reflection’s words kept her grounded. She turned back to it, her fists clenched. “Why are you doing this?” she demanded. “What do you want?”
“I want you to see the truth,” the reflection said, its voice softening. “You’re not just fighting the shadow. You’re fighting yourself. And until you face that, you’ll never win.”
Notty’s chest ached, the reflection’s words striking a chord she hadn’t wanted to acknowledge. She thought of the countless nights spent perfecting her designs, the constant pressure to prove herself, the fear that her magic wasn’t enough. Maybe it wasn’t the shadow that terrified her the most—maybe it was the thought that the shadow was right.
“Notty,” Ludikrousz said gently, his hand brushing hers. “You don’t have to listen to this.”
“Yeah,” she said, her voice trembling but resolute. She stepped closer to the mirror, her reflection’s eyes locking with hers. “You’re right,” she said softly. “I am scared. I’m scared of failing, of losing myself in all of this. But I’m not going to let that fear define me... not anymore.”
The reflection’s smile faltered, its edges softening. For a moment, it looked almost sad. Then, with a shimmer, it dissolved, leaving the mirror blank and the room eerily silent.
“Well,” Ludikrousz said, breaking the tension. “That was... intense.”
Notty let out a shaky laugh, her shoulders sagging with relief. “You can say that again.”
“That was intense,” he repeated, earning a weak punch to his arm.
As the light in the room returned, the sketches on the walls began to shift, their lines forming new patterns. Notty watched in awe as they transformed into maps, guiding threads weaving between them to form a clear path.
“I think we’re supposed to follow that,” she said, her voice steadier now.
“Great,” Ludikrousz replied, gesturing for her to lead the way. “Because this creepy fashion dungeon was really starting to grow on me.”
They followed the glowing threads out of the studio and into the surreal expanse of the astral plane. The air felt different now, lighter somehow, as though Notty’s confrontation with her fears had shifted something fundamental.
“Do you feel that?” she asked, glancing at Ludikrousz.
He nodded. “Yeah. It’s like the whole place is… calmer.”
“Maybe it would react to us,” she mused. “To our emotions, our intentions.”
“Or maybe it’s just taking a breather before the next existential crisis,” Ludikrousz quipped, though his tone lacked its usual edge.
Notty smiled faintly but didn’t respond. Her gaze was fixed on the horizon, where the glowing threads seemed to converge. Whatever lay ahead, she knew it wouldn’t be easy. But for the first time in a long time, she felt like she could handle it.
They didn’t see the figure at first, hidden as it was in the shifting shadows. But as they drew closer, the air grew colder, the light dimming until the plane felt more like a nightmare.
“Do you see that?” Ludikrousz asked, his voice low.
Notty nodded, her heart pounding. The figure stood at the edge of the path, its form indistinct but unmistakably watching them. Its presence sent a chill down her spine, a cold certainty that this wasn’t just another test.
“Who are you?” she called, her voice steady despite her fear.
The figure didn’t answer. Instead, it raised a hand, and the threads around them began to twist and writhe, darkening with each movement. The air grew heavy, and a low, menacing hum filled the space.
“Notty,” Ludikrousz said urgently, grabbing her arm. “We need to go.”
But Notty didn’t move. Her eyes were locked on the figure, her fear battling with a growing sense of defiance. “It’s watching us,” she said softly. “It knows we’re getting closer.”
“Closer to what?” Ludikrousz asked, though he already knew the answer.
“Closer to the reality,” she replied, her voice trembling. “And it doesn’t want us to find it.”
The figure took a step forward, and the darkness surged, rushing toward them like a wave. Ludikrousz pulled her back, his voice sharp. “Now, Notty. Run faster!”