In the stillness of the night, when the world holds its breath, the mirror becomes a portal. Ghostly echoes weave through the air, seeping from the cracks of time. They speak in hushed tones, recounting the stories no living soul dares to remember.
"Turn the key," it murmurs, "unlock the chamber where shadows dance and secrets lie." The voice, a whispering wind through aged forests, beckons with a sigh as forlorn as the moonlit graveyards.
Reflections flicker, indecipherable faces morphing into one another, each bearing tales of sorrow and longing. The glass remembers all, even what was never spoken aloud—tales of love untold, of curses spun by witches long forgotten.
Stand close, yet beware, for the mirror's edge is treacherous. In its depths, realities intertwine, and the fabric of the now unravels, thread by spectral thread.
Enter the Shadowed Veil Hear the Reflection Tales