In the west, the sun was rising. And with it rose the Mirror Watchers. Among them was Tavi- a novice Watcher at only thirteen years old.

Tavi had always been special. When she was born without a birthmark on the sole of her left foot, the birthmark every Mirror Watcher bore, the news quickly spread throughout the parallel world she called home. She quickly grew famed at the age of five, when she cracked her own mirror. The world waited anxiously, for if a Watcher’s mirror breaks he is forever lost from the realm. Where a soul finds itself afterwards was any Watcher’s guess. Thankfully, the crack was quickly and skillfully repaired by the most respected Elder in Tavi’s town- the revered Lionel Belinov. Then, at age eleven, Tavi ran away for three days and three nights, leaving her mirror unattended and forgotten. Much to Belinov’s frustration, at least thirty other Mirror Watchers neglected their reflection duties to search for the missing Tavi. This, of course, left their charges reflection-less and increasingly suspicious about why any mirror they happened to look into was empty. Since then, Tavi had not tried to cause any problems- yet they kept happening.

This morning, Tavi got ready as usual. Her mother quickly lectured her to obey the Elders’ rules and to be extremely careful near her mirror. With brown hair and eyes, the woman looked unrelated to Tavi.

“Your father has already broken his mirror, he is gone,” Alana repeated as usual. “You are all I have left, Tavi, you must never leave me.”

Tavi promised, like she did each morning, not to leave her mirror or crack it or cause any other trouble, and left to go to her watching room. She positioned herself before her mirror with its large, gleaming golden frame edged in pale sapphires and the darkest of rubies. Still visible after all those years was the faint crack forming a half-moon- the shape of a regular Watcher’s birthmark- in the top left corner. A thin line of dried herb paste was oozing out of the crack- Belinov’s handiwork was still holding. Then Tavi’s charge appeared- a regular human from the regular world, Tavi thought enviously. This girl was like the mirror image of Tavi. Her hair, parted on the left, was the opposite of Tavi’s- parted on the right. She smiled widely to herself, admiring her fine hazel eyes and dark, lush eyelashes, and began to brush her straight, black hair. Tavi lifted her lips into a lifeless grin name she thought of as lame and boyish. For this reason, and for numerous, uncountable others, Tavi hated her. It didn’t come as much of a surprise to anyone- for who would love the person to whom they are only mere reflections- but the Elders sternly corrected her whenever she mentioned her dislike. Hating your own charge, they reasoned, was equivalent to hating yourself, because every Watcher is the essence of their charge. Alone, a Watcher is no one, a meaningless wisp of clouds, an invisible soul without a reason to exist, the Elders would repeat to her as she scowled defiantly. Tavi did not take them seriously, for she hated the Elders nearly as much as she hated Belle. But she had learned long ago that resisting the Elders would only mean more trouble, so she calmly pretended to listen and agree. Tavi had resolved never to mention her hatred to anyone again after she had repeatedly been slapped and told the same lecture.