Kalya’s Looking Glass

Tetya straightened her simple crème skirt, the faded green lines plodding down its length. She stared into the mirror above her vanity, her eyes roamed the soft curves of the antique furniture, but finally facing forward to meet her own reflection, be judged by her own visage. Her soft, delicate chin held high, her brown eyes explored their copies, perhaps searching for answers. Fear? Disdain? No, surely she could not see any of these things in the woman who sat before her. Her decision was right. What the others whispered in the town square as she walked was said out of ignorance. Running her fingers through her long black hair, the other hand reached out to gently touch the mirror’s surface. It would be an all together different mirror, a different portal she would be facing later today.

Her gaze dropped down to the crowded vanity’s surface she had shared with her sister for over a century. Now where did that brush go to? she thought absently to herself.

Downstairs, the rest of the immediate family sat in the common room, perched on various sofas and chairs. Each avoided the other’s eyes, unwilling to see in another the dread they each felt. As Tetya descended the staircase, her unadorned hand gracefully sliding over the oak banister, everyone’s eyes followed Tetya. Tetya’s mother, Korrina, and father, Estbul gripped each other’s hands nervously. Korrina seemed to rock in place on the old divan. Nan sat stock still. Her small eyes focused on Tetya’s every movement. Had it not been for the solemnity of the occasion Tetya, or at least her younger brother Adric would have made a joke or smiled at the very least. Nan had chosen to sit in her old rocker that Estbul had recently repaired and moved back into the house. It was sitting underneath the ancient portrait of a woman rocking in an identical chair. The portrait had likely been done centuries ago, yet it was the same woman and surely the same rocker as sat below it now.

Nan had never been one to let go of things easily. With a lifespan of eternity, like all the family and all of Therra, it seemed unavoidable that material possessions would have to be replaced, yet Nan would keep things and traditions in place as long as she could manage.

At the base of the stairs, Tetya paused. Silence. An old board in the hardwood floor groaned slightly, revealing Tetya’s anxiety as her old black boots rocked to and fro on the first step. She took in her last experiences of the old farmhouse where she had so many years of memories. The laughter, the cries, the feast time celebrations. Every face she had ever cared for sat now staring back at her. Save two.

Kalya would be in the town green now, examining the portal with her studious colleagues. And Maric. Maric was…perhaps she was soon to find out. That was her intention after all, wasn’t it? Where were these doubts coming from? This voice that whispered in her head, it wasn’t her own. Yes, I’m going because I know Maric will be there and I have to find him. None of the rest of it matters. Her hand flexed and tensed on the rounded wood sphere atop the last post in the railing. Her father had made that with his own hands when the staircase had finally needed to be replaced. Surely if the old house had not been in the family he would have built the entire thing himself. He was so capable, just as Maric would have been.

Tetya’s green eyes, set in an impassive fair complexioned face moved from the stony faces to the portraits that hung above the family, the dark stained frames in stark relief to the faded yellow and green wallpaper. Portraits of nearly everyone in the family over the centuries. None of Maric though. They had not been removed, he had just never been the type to sit still long enough for one. Had he, the artist’s hand would have captured a smiling, charming lad. His cornsilk blond hair always a mess and his sky blue eyes a sparkle, Maric had a perpetual smile on his face and always a new joke or tall tale. Many summers Tetya and Kalya had followed Maric faithfully through the forest by the creek, creating adventures as the day went on.

But Maric was gone. Two years today in fact. The house forever changed. Everyone moved through a room more gently, more quietly, as if disturbing a ghost. There were no Therran myths of ghosts though, not really. Until the portal there had been no need to ponder on an after life.

No one had understood why, that day Maric had walked straight to the town green, and without a glance back had stepped straight through the portal. No one except Tetya. As Kalya had taken up her portal studies, Tetya and Maric had grown closer together and more distant from their older sister. They had both been young when the portal opened. Life before the portal was just story tale, a dream. But for everyone else in the family it profoundly altered the way they looked at everything.

Nearly a hundred years ago, the portal had just opened. In the center of the town a large green lawn flows for acres over hills and under the canopy of golden leaves from the copses of trees scattered about. Wild Thorn Creek meanders through the commons, only in spring after the winter thaw does it truly rush through, bubbling and gurgling excitedly on its way. One day, the silver, shimmering portal had opened atop a small hillock in the midst of the green. No one had been there at that precise moment exactly. Rather it was just an individual on an afternoon stroll who had happened upon it. Roughly the size of a doorway, but oval in shape, the portal hovers a foot above the ground, light shining out of it in a dappled fashion as if through the leaves of a tree or coming up through water. The surface rippled and flowed like a pond’s surface as well.

Curiousity had overtaken someone at some point. Who knows any longer who was the first? Someone had stepped through. They had never returned. More stepped through. They were all gone. Eventually a more scientific approach was used, along with the most sophisticated equipment. Peculiarly enough, a name had never been given to the portal. To name it would be to acknowledge it. Rather, the portal was a topic of conversation that was avoided at all costs. Those who actively examined it were met with disregard and angst by many.

It had been a spring day, like this one, the big blue sky open wide. A tall pile of white clouds to the west had hung suspended above the mountains. She and Maric had been walking towards the forest, discussing myriad things. Tetya was the most aware of Maric’s depression. His anger at their father for not allowing them to go away to other places. Exotic names like T’aer Baul and J’izkoah summoned images of fantastic places. No, their lives were those of the farmer, father had said time and again. Maric could not accept that. Away from the family he acted like a caged beast, yearning to break free and roam. They had talked away many a night about slipping away and travelling from city to city. Deep down, Tetya knew it would never happen.

“I’m leaving, Tetya” He had told her that day. “But I’m going alone. You need to stay here with mom and Kalya.” She had tried to protest but he quieted her every suggestion. It was only that night that she realized he did intend to travel to a distant city. The next morning Maric had already stepped through the portal by the time the family was awake.

Did she blame herself for not figuring it out sooner and telling the family? She had never let on, even to Kalya that she had known before hand. During the rites of passing ceremony she had feigned shock along with everyone else.

Before the portal, as time then was simply known now, life was celebrated. The passing of pets and other animals was noted sadly and somewhat with confusion, but usually just acknowledged. But once the portal disappearances began occurring, everyone acknowledged something had to be done. But what? How do you properly say goodbye to someone you’re not even sure has left for good? Many families to this day kept the rooms and possessions intact of loved ones who had passed through nearly a century ago. Others quickly converted the room to another purpose and removed all traces of the lost soul, as if able to wipe clean the slate of reality. Tetya went into Maric’s room occasionally, picking up his things, trying to feel for his presence, catch a glimpse of him. Mother or Nan would sometimes find her in there. They all disapproved of anyone stepping into his room. Mother would chide her and get her busy on some chore, and quickly change the subject. Nan on the other hand, her cold, still eyes would simply stare at Tetya accusingly.

Tetya breathed deeply and walked to the large front door of the house, stained a warm cherry. She opened the door and stepped out into the fresh spring day. She knew the family would follow at a distance. Trying hard to be as she imagined Maric had been, she didn’t look back. Not because she did not want to see what lay behind her anymore, rather afraid someone might mistake the sudden cloudiness in her eyes for tears.

The walk to the village commons took several minutes, and Tetya enjoyed the fresh scents of the wildflowers blooming. Several farms had recently been tilled in preparation for planting and the rich loamy earth wafted its hearty natural scent up to her nose. Birds called to one another merrily, lifting up towards the sky and dancing with each other amongst the trees.

Her mind had cleared completely by the time Tetya stepped upon the lush green grasses of the commons. She smiled at the memory of rolling down the hills with her siblings, only to be chased after their mother, upset that she would have to spend the evening scrubbing grass stains out of their clothes. The smile faded as she stepped over the last hillock and saw the portal. The portal did not dampen her spirits though, rather it was the cluster of individuals hovering near it, like moths drawn to a flame. The ‘experts’ were studying the portal again, and amongst them stood a tall, slight figure with long, flowing red hair that whipped in the wind behind a fair face with emerald green eyes. Kalya. Their eyes met briefly, and some silent indescribable exchange occurred. Kalya turned her gaze back towards the colleague whom she apparently had been conversing with when Tetya appeared, a short man wearing a simple brown vest over a cotton shirt, one hand absently scratching the back of his head.

Tetya descended from her hillock and walked up near the portal. Her destination lay only a few yards away. The light pulsed from the portal, its surface rippling like disturbed pond surface. One moment it seemed silver, the next blue, or perhaps green. Hypnotic.

Kalya had apparently broken off her conversation and stepped directly in between Tetya and the portal, as if protecting her sister from what lay ahead. Or perhaps protecting her precious portal, Tetya thought. Best not to suggest something like that, even in sarcasm, as it might lay too close to home for Kalya.

She had studied the portal with the others for years. What had they learned? That if you stepped through, you did not come back. And it took how many scientists to deduce that startling fact? You could sweep your fingers across its surface, and feel something at times no different then air, and at others silky and smooth like a bolt of a fine new fabric. You could even lean your face in and not go through. Who had been the brave souls who had conducted these tests? You saw nothing, only more light obscured by a veil of some mist or smoke. Long telescoping lenses had been built and stuck through, seeing only the same hazy light.

It was a good day for her journey to reunite with Maric, wherever he may be, Tetya decided.

“It is not a journey sister!” Kalya unexpectedly said, her voice raising uncontrollably as she spoke, her body trembling, as if she had read Tetya’s mind.

“We’ve gone over this a thousand times! You know no better than I if it is a journey or a destination, an end. We have no way of knowing what lies beyond. But if there is something beyond this life, I need to find Maric. He’s alone. He needs me more than the rest of you do.”

“That’s not fair Tetya. You know we all love you. We loved Maric too. What did we do wrong that makes you both want to end your lives this way?” Tears had begun to run down Kalya’s face.

“I don’t want to end it, dear sister.” Tetya reached up and brushed away a drop that hung suspended on the edge of Kalya’s cheek, reddened with color revealing the intensity she felt within. “I truly believe I’m moving on to the next step in my life, whatever that may be. Each of us has our place here in the village. Mother makes fine dresses for all the young girls at the harvest dances, father provides food for so many. And you, you have your looking glass Kalya. What do you see reflected back when you gaze for so long into it?”

Kalya pursed her lips to fire a response, but instead turned and looked with Tetya at the shimmering enigma. Slowly, she turned back and whispered “I don’t know. I just don’t know. We’ve tried so hard to understand, but it’s beyond our ability, whatever it is. How can that be?”

Tetya reached out and hugged her sister tightly, who returned the embrace. “Perhaps it is not meant for our understanding. We must each look at the portal and decide what it means for us, individually. I believe, and that is what counts. I believe and I am happy with my decision. Have faith, dear sister.”

The two sisters parted, holding both hands. Turning, they looked upon the hillock to the south and saw the assembled family, mutely watching what transgressed. Tetya dropped one of Kalya’s hands, but squeezed the other as she began to walk towards the portal. At the last moment Kalya tugged instead of stepping with her, nearly pulling Tetya off balance. She turned and they met eyes once more. But what Kalya saw there she could not stop. She stepped with her sister to the portal’s very edge.

With no further words, as none appropriate could ever be devised for such a moment, Tetya stepped through. Kalya held on tightly and let her entire arm go through. She gasped in shock and fell back as the hand she had been holding vanished. Not as if it had been tugged away, but one moment she had felt it, the next her hand had closed instantly into a fist. She pulled her hand back. Sighing deep breath, Kalya turned to walk with the family back to the house and prepare for the rite of passing.

As she walked though, her brow furrowed. Her surprise had not been so much at the disappearance, as startling as it was. That had been expected from reading about past experiences and experiments. Rather, it had been something right at the very end. She replayed the sensations in her mind, feeling the warm sun, the softness of Tetya’s hand in her own. In the last instant before Tetya had disappeared from this world forever, she had squeezed Kalya’s hand incredibly hard. Red marks still could be seen on her hand, her knuckles stood out white in relief. The sensation had been so quick and unexpected, Kalya could not tell. Had Tetya done so to show her love and say goodbye, or, had it been a desperate act of sheer terror, a plea for help?