The darkness was endless. No sky. No ground. Just the sensation of floating in something that wasn’t quite air. Sticky, Cold… Wrong.

Stars began to rise. One by one white light floated up from beneath Arbor’s feet. The surface below was thick like syrup. Their legs didn’t sink into it, but every shift of movement clung to them like tar. Ripples of white light followed every twitch.

More stars rose, outlining their silhouette. The sharp curves of their fox-like ears — two on top, two on the sides — caught the glow. A golden chain earring with a crescent moon charm sat on their top right ear. And matching gold cylinder earrings on their lower left. 

Their figure was Androgynous. Their skin was dark and their face was soft, almost human, except for the subtle curve of a fox’s nose. Their hair, a light, baby blue, was pulled into a loose ponytail, with bangs falling past the sides of their head. A stubborn bang hung dead center claiming that spot for life. 

Their body was in simple gray shorts and a gray cropped shirt, but over that was a ghostly transparent white, sheer poncho edged in gold trim. It flickered with a glow, almost like a spirit’s veil, with matching glowing leg warmers. Their hands seemed to be normal, besides their nails being longer, thicker, and sharper than the average human. Lastly, a poofy blue tail that wiggled around as if it had a mind of its own.

The ripples of light grew stronger making white pulses.

Arbor frowned. “Not this dream again,” they muttered. Their gaze scanned the endless void. Nothing but darkness and an infuriating glow. Their ears twitched in irritation.

“I’m getting tired of this,” they yelled into the open void, voice echoing. “You hear me?! I’m over it! Give me something else!”

But nothing replied.

Arbor exhaled hard, running a hand through their ponytail. This dream had been coming back for weeks. Same sticky black water. Same rising stars. Same silence. But this time… something shifted.

At first, it was just the subtle rise of a shape in the distance. Ripples of white light burst from its base. Arbor squinted. It was... a mirror.

The frame of it poked out of the black water. A gold border surrounded the oval-shaped mirror, and at its base sat two sturdy gray feet. Beneath it, grass began to grow from a tiny dirt mound.

With nowhere else to go, Arbor turned back to the mirror. “Yeah, alright,” they muttered. “Let's see what creepy nonsense you’ve got for me this time.”

They walked closer, sticky water thinning into the grass. The mound had grown into a full patch of it beneath the mirror.

They crouched in front of the mirror, expecting to see their reflection. But the mirror showed nothing.

Arbor's eyes narrowed tilting their head to the side waiting for their reflection to catch up. The mirror stayed blank.

“Of course,” they grumbled. “Of course it’s weird.”

They raised their hand toward it slowly. “Don’t do anything stupid,” they muttered. They tapped it with one finger. Then another. The surface gave way. Their hand sank in.

White ripples exploded across the mirror's surface.

“...Not good,” Arbor hissed, yanking back on their arm. It didn’t budge.

They pulled harder. “No, no, no. Nope. Nope. Nope.” Their heart pounded in their ears. The mirror wouldn't let go. It gripped them with the same tar feeling as the water below.

Then the ground shook.

The black water behind them rippled violently. Slowly a wall began to rise. It towered above them, thick stone. White liquid oozed from the cracks, glowing. The rumbling stopped.

On the wall, a circle with runes began to glow. Inside the circle, one side held a small, earthly caramel flame flickering. On the other side, a huge, angry flame of dark red and yellow swirled. In the center of the circle was a round symbol Arbor didn’t recognize. They squinted at it, trying to make sense of the markings.

“Really?” they muttered, yanking on their arm again. “Let me go! Let me go!”

Then something in the mirror moved, something orange. At first, Arbor thought it was another flame, like the ones on the wall. But then it moved again. It was too fluid and smooth.

It wasn't a fire. It was fur.

A pair of glowing orange eyes opened in the mirror.

The last thing Arbor saw was a huge mouth opening in front of them, with lines of teeth. It lunged forward, and before they could scream, the jaws snapped down on their head with a deafening CRUNCH.

Everything went dark.

Somewhere, in the back of their mind, Arbor’s voice echoed.

"Sometimes I wish… I could have some peace."
"But I guess, I haven’t gotten lucky yet."

"...Not yet."