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Mind Playin Tricks on Me
Malik was a flame, roiling, black smoke billowing out, red and angry. He made to raise a hand, a lance of fire ready to extend from his fingertips and burn the hall of mirrors to the ground, the glass cracking and shattering and melting, a pool of melted glass. He knew the agony such could be, the unending burning, the inability to escape.

But her words stopped him. " “I came because you are familiar. You are Two, like me. Why do you hide your Other face from me?" Another? Like him?

The flame winked out and suddenly, he was in the hall, standing in front of her, separated by glass. His eyes, glowing red, studied the woman who seemed not to care the apparent fate before her. Long curly unbound hair, dark eyes, posture relaxed. His voice was low but firm. "How are you other?" Was she bound in the other world? If he killed Marcus, would he be free?
For a while, nothing. And then he was there beyond the glass, eyes twinkling like rubies. Older, certainly, and taller than the boy who had snuggled into her stomach. Her eyes travelled up to meet the ferocious flame of his, infinitely curious for this man who dreamed himself twain. Nimeda smiled, as though perhaps she really did consider it a game, and she leaned to cup her hands against the glass and so peer though. Was he so afraid as to need the barrier? She had no power here.

“If you did hurt me, you would hurt my Other also. But I do not really want to die. It’s lonely.” She watched him, sensing that perhaps his patience with her would be fleeting. “Do many strangers visit your dreams?” She laughed, tapping her fingers against the glass. “You seem cautious, but I would not hurt you, even if I could do so here. Perhaps you are used to being bound so. Hidden away.”

She contemplated the question. Likely he would find no pleasure in her answer, but she was guileless with the truth anyway, and clearly curious about him in turn. “If I truly knew the answer to my nature, perhaps it would no longer be so. I am something old and forgotten. But all things are new once, such as you. Why do you chase yourself through this place? He will not let me comfort him. He will not even speak.” Her head tilted. She did not consider him broken, and though she would comfort the fear of a child with natural instinct, she did not look upon his second part with the eyes of a protector. She saw him as whole in his own right.

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