Hidden at the quietest end of Joy Meadow — where the wind slows down and even the shadows pause — there is a door with no sign. Most walk past it without ever noticing. But some… stop. And knock.
Inside the room, it is always twilight. There are no clocks. No voices. No candles. Only one tall, old mirror. Ornate. Almost alive.
They say it has been there since before Lavillia remembered its name. Those who stand before it do not see a fantasy.
They see themselves — in a possible moment that has not yet happened. Sometimes older. Sometimes braver. Sometimes softer. But always... true.
Some cry. Some laugh. Some leave with a quiet nod and never speak of what they saw.
The mirror never speaks. But it knows.
And it always shows you the future that you have chosen for yourself — now.