Will O’ the Wisp (supplemental)

Another turn, another wall of thorns. Another path that leads nowhere. By now, Mirror has grown to expect it. She turns back the way she came without so much as a sigh to show her discontent. The warm summer air is bordering on stifling, now, with the thick sweater that hangs almost to the forest floor on her thin frame. Mirror is drowsy, and separately, she is tired. Tired of seeking a way out of her own home. Drowsy from the lull of crickets, little light, and warmth. The thought of laying down in the grass to rest tugs at her mind. No, that would be too easy. She knew well what would happen then: the forest, once her home and guardian, would cement itself as her prison. Time would be lost on her. Sleep would come and take root. A story came to mind. One she had been told long, long ago; the tale of a princess cursed by a scorned fairy. The princess had fallen to a sleep like death. All around her grew thick bushes and thorns to keep out any who might seek to wake her... How had that story ended? Nevermind. If Mirror's life were any sort of fairytale, she would stand no chance. She was the witch lurking in the dark woods. At best, a forgotten casualty of 'happily ever after'. Another little 'x' marked on another stone, placed in the center of a path. Mirror was back where she had begun. Another path ruled out. Aloud, Mirror spoke to the forest. "If your paths lead nowhere, I shall make my own, and all the worse for you. Trapping me here will not quell the fury that burns within you any more than it will protect me." Her declaration went unanswered. She scowled, briefly, and then turned her attention to what she could see of the sky above: it was dusk, streaked in red and orange like bloody spices. If only she could fly, she might be freed that way, up past the heavy boughs silhouetted above her. Discarding the thought, Mirror shook her head. She could hardly hack away to foliage and trunks that blocked her in, for they would regrow at once and with vigor...Witch that she was, a spell came at once to mind. It was one she had long studied. The will-o'-the-wisp spell. A guiding spell named for those mischievous spirits who would lead travelers to their doom, given the chance. Most often regarded as a caution against hubris rather than a spell, sometimes even thought to be a trial from ancient gods which would curse its user, it had been buried deep in magical archives, pieces of it planted throughout. Mirror had gone through much trouble to reconstruct it, but had never been quite willing to try it, however desperate she had become. Always, she had found another way. Now, with every other option exhausted... was it worth it? She could, theoretically, cast herself through the trees in little sequential fragments which would lead ultimately to anyplace on which she focused wholly. A single slip of her mind would shred her into a thousand little pieces, doomed to become one of those spirits herself unless she could force another to take her place. It would not do to dwell on that, not now. Total concentration was a must if she was truly going to attempt such a difficult spell - and one so spiritually abstract. For now, she had only to decide where it was she meant to go. ‘Out' was hardly specific enough. She'd be destroyed at once. Mirror needed someplace tangible to go; a location, an object, perhaps even a living creature, and yet she could think of none that gave her even a hint of the determination that she would need to carry out such a tedious and complex spell. Brow furrowed, Mirror began to follow another path through the woods. Until she had answered her own question, she would continue to search as she had been; path by path, turn by turn, step by step.