As she gazed into the glass, the world behind her splintered into shadows. From the depths of the mirror, a voice, soft like a breeze through autumn leaves, whispered:
"You could have been a great sailor, charting stars and whispering secrets to the moon. But here, you choose the land."
Startled, she stepped back, the chill of the reflection seeping into her bones. A name, not her own, slipped through the cracks of time—Elowen.
"With each step away from the ocean, the tide pulls your dreams further out to sea," spoke the shivering glass.
She reached out, fingers brushing against the cold surface, and felt a pull, a gravity towards an unchosen path. There was a whisper of waves, and then:
"Do you hear them calling, Elowen? The ships, the sirens, the longing?"
Reflections shifted like restless spirits, revealing a world where Elowen sailed beneath a gilded sky, her laughter mingling with the salt of the sea.
Another Tale from the Mirror