The Mirror of Echoes is a mystery play that explores the interplay between thought, language, and feeling—the fundamental threads that weave the fabric of human identity. Set in a surreal and liminal space where the physical and the metaphysical merge, the play invites its characters—and the audience—to confront the complexities of selfhood and the illusions of control, certainty, and meaning.

(released as a serial.)

Cast of Characters

Contents

Act I, Scene 1: The Gathering
Act I, Scene 2: The First Feedback Loop
Act I, Scene 3: The Mirror’s First Reflection

Act I, Scene 3: The Mirror’s First Reflection

Setting:
The stage is dimly lit, with the fractured shards of the mirror from the previous scene scattered across the space. Each shard emits a faint glow, casting fragmented reflections of the Seekers onto the walls and floor. The Silent Flame burns more brightly now, its light pulsating in time with an eerie, rhythmic hum. The space feels charged, as though something unseen is on the verge of emerging.

[The Seekers are positioned at various points around the stage, gazing warily at the scattered shards of the mirror. Xantho stands near the Silent Flame, his expression amused and curious. Thane lingers in the shadows, silent but watchful.]

ALETHEA:
(Examining a shard, speaking almost to herself)
The reflections…they’re wrong.

[She picks up a shard and tilts it, revealing a distorted image of herself, speaking words she has not yet said.]

ALETHEA (REFLECTION):
We are threads pulled too tight.

ALETHEA:
(Startled, dropping the shard)
How can it know what I haven’t spoken?

SIRIS:
(Scoffing)
It doesn’t know anything. It’s just a trick. A clever illusion.

MYRA:
(Turning toward him, her voice trembling)
Then why does it feel like it’s pulling at something inside me?

[She kneels before a larger shard, her reflection flickering between her current self and what appears to be a younger version of her, crying silently. She reaches out to touch the image but recoils as the shard vibrates.]

MYRA (YOUNGER REFLECTION):
(Whispering)
Don’t look too closely.

MYRA:
(Snapping her hand back)
It’s not just reflecting. It’s…showing something else.

XANTHO:
(Stepping forward, his tone light but with an undercurrent of gravity)
Ah, now you’re beginning to see. The mirror doesn’t show you—it speaks you. Words, thoughts, feelings…all tangled together in a lovely little knot.

SIRIS:
(Angrily)
Enough with the riddles. What is this?

XANTHO:
(Grinning)
This, my dear skeptic, is the Echoing Threshold. A place where what you are and what you think you are collide. Look too closely, and you might lose yourself. Step too far away, and you might lose everything else.

[The Silent Flame flares suddenly, and the shards of the mirror lift into the air, spinning slowly. The rhythmic hum grows louder, resolving into faint whispers of overlapping voices—some familiar, some alien. The Seekers look around nervously.]

ALETHEA:
(Trying to steady herself)
If it’s showing us something, then we need to understand what.

THANE:
(Speaking for the first time, his voice a low murmur)
Understanding is a thread. The more you pull, the tighter the knot becomes.

[The shards spin faster, their reflections merging into a single, swirling image projected onto the backdrop—a chaotic blend of faces, symbols, and shifting landscapes. The Seekers step back, overwhelmed.]

MYRA:
(Covering her ears)
It’s too much. It’s…it’s pulling me in!

[Xantho raises his hands, as if conducting the spinning shards. The projections slow slightly, forming more distinct images: Alethea trapped in a maze of bookshelves; Siris surrounded by collapsing geometric patterns; Myra standing in a storm of golden light. Each image flickers, incomplete and unstable.]

XANTHO:
(To the Seekers)
Do you see it now? These are not truths. They are fragments. Pieces of a whole that you’ve been trying to name, to tame.

SIRIS:
(Challenging)
And what if we don’t name it? What if we let it stay untamed?

THANE:
(Stepping closer, his voice almost a whisper)
Then it will name you.

[The spinning shards suddenly stop midair, their light dimming. The Silent Flame burns steadier, casting long shadows. The projections disappear, leaving the stage eerily quiet.]

ALETHEA:
(Frustrated, to Xantho)
This is a game to you, isn’t it?

XANTHO:
(Chuckling)
A game? No, my dear Alethea. This is a ritual. And the stakes are far greater than you think.

[He turns to the audience, breaking the fourth wall again.]

XANTHO:
They came seeking answers, these clever little threads. But every answer is a knot in itself, isn’t it? And every knot tightens the loop.

[The shards fall to the ground, shattering into smaller pieces. The whispers fade into silence. The Seekers look at each other, the tension between them palpable.]

MYRA:
(Quietly)
What happens if the knot becomes too tight?

THANE:
(Looking at her, his expression unreadable)
Then the thread snaps.

[The Silent Flame flickers ominously, and the scene ends with the sound of a single, low tone reverberating through the theater.]

[Blackout.]