The Man in the Mirror

How long had it been now—months? Time no longer moved forward; it bled. The ache remained, crawling beneath his skin like rot, and with it came the slow erosion of care. He no longer bothered to maintain the elegance he once demanded of himself.

Leo sat in front of the mirror, in the room he shared with his best friend, GiGi. They had spent more time together lately, but even that comfort couldn’t reach the hollowed-out place inside him. He stared at the reflection in silence.

What looked back at him was not the man he once was.

Tired. Unkempt. Drained of all luster. The refined image he’d once guarded so fiercely had collapsed into something raw and unfamiliar. The past few weeks had been an endless theater of pretending—charming smiles, careful posture, polite conversation. But behind closed doors, this was who he had become.

He leaned closer to the glass, pulling at his skin, grimacing at the sight. “Pathetic. Hideous. Worthless.” The words rolled from his tongue like venom—an incantation of self-loathing. He’d begun to repeat them daily. They were a lullaby for the creature inside his chest, the one that twisted and stirred, hungry for ruin.

It wanted out.

It wanted to destroy.

And gods, how badly he wanted to let it.

He imagined it: giving in fully, tearing through everything that dared to exist near his pain. Letting the world burn just to match the wreckage within him. But something—some fragile tether—kept him from collapsing entirely. Not out of hope. Out of fear.

With a snarl, he balled his fist and drove it forward— The mirror exploded beneath the blow, shards flying like tiny daggers, scattering across the floor. His reflection lay in pieces at his feet, broken just as he felt inside.

With a ragged sigh, he pushed himself from the chair, stepping toward the ornate mirror across the room—an oval of gold, encrusted with glittering stones. GiGi’s mirror. It had become his salvation and his curse.

He stared into it, and slowly, the ruin faded. His features twisted and smoothed into the mask the world was allowed to see—flawless, composed, radiant. A lie, but a necessary one.

Only once the illusion was complete did he move, drifting from the room like a ghost wearing borrowed flesh.

It was morning. Time to play beautiful again.

@daily-writing-challenge

Another day. Another coin. Another slow step toward unraveling.

Leo had picked up more than just dust and bruises during his time in Undermine—he'd acquired habits that would have once disgusted him. Now, it was gambling halls instead of grand stages, whiskey-soaked nights instead of refined soirées. He threw away his gold as easily as he threw punches, often side by side with his best friend in taverns that reeked of sweat and smoke.

The drinking, the brawling, the reckless spending—it was all a carefully veiled performance. A façade to keep the beast within him sedated. For something monstrous stirred beneath his skin, clawing and gnashing with every breath he took. It whispered promises of liberation, of fire and ruin. The voices had grown louder, more demanding, and he had long since stopped trying to silence them. Now, he merely tried to drown them.

Self-soothing had become a foreign concept. Comfort? Impossible. All that remained was distraction. And so, day after day, he repeated the ritual—wager, drink, fight, survive.

And in those moments—the brawls especially—there were flashes. A second of bloodlust. A heartbeat where time slowed and he knew... he could win. Every fight. Every foe. Every damned soul that crossed him—if he just let go.

If he let it out.

But—

No.

It cannot be released.

He could feel it, coiled in the marrow of his bones, waiting for a moment of weakness. And though the temptation burned hot and sweet, Leo remembered too well what had happened that day. The day it escaped.

And he still wasn’t sure—if it came forth again—whether he’d ever find the strength to lock it away once more.

On one of the days he found himself home, Leo drifted wordlessly toward the river that cut through the edge of his yard. He settled at its bank, knees drawn in, arms draped loosely across them. Solitude was a dangerous thing for someone like him, but lately, the real danger felt like himself. Being alone, at least, spared others.

Tonight, though… he was just Leo.

The moon hung full and cold in the sky above, casting pale silver across the water’s surface. Crickets chirped in steady rhythm, grass rustled gently with each sweep of the wind, and the river hummed its ageless lullaby. The world around him exhaled, and for once, he felt no need to speak. No need to perform.

A chill crept through like the cool breath of autumn, but it brought comfort. Fireflies danced in the darkness like stars fallen to earth, and below the surface, fish traced glowing paths beneath the current—otherworldly and serene.

Leo's eyes locked on the distance, but his mind didn’t follow. No thoughts, no voices. Just quiet. Blessed, infinite quiet.

Time unspooled.

And he let himself drift, lost somewhere between the hush of the night and the ache in his bones, neither fighting nor feeding what lay beneath.

For now, the stillness was enough.

DWC- Day 2- Suppress/Pastel

Another day dawned upon Stormwind, and Leo found himself navigating its streets with caution. The past few months had seen him keeping a low profile, laying low and hidden from the limelight, all thanks to a daring heist he had orchestrated against a renowned tavern within the city walls. Now, tentatively stepping onto the cobblestone pathways, he couldn't help but notice the lackluster ambiance that surrounded him, despite the city's usual bustle.

As he wandered through the maze of canals and districts, his journey led him to Lion's Rest, where a familiar figure caught his eye amidst the crowd—a certain ginger-haired dame.

GiGi Fiske.

GiGi had always been more than just a friend to Leo; she was his confidant, the one person with whom he shared his deepest secrets—something he couldn't bring himself to do with anyone else, not even his former partner in crime. Approaching her, Leo was serenaded by the gentle strains of a lute, played skillfully by a magenta-haired elf standing nearby—a sight and sound he had sorely missed.

After exchanging greetings with GiGi, Leo's attention was drawn back to the bard, whom she introduced as Trist'Ayran Ambrosio-Autumnrayne—a name that sparked recognition within him.

Trist'Ayran Ambrosio-Autumnrayne was his name.

Gif by Kotlass on YCH.Commishes

There was an undeniable allure to the lute player, a stark contrast to Leo's own demeanor. Clad in vibrant teal hues, the elf's attire screamed of brightness, his hair a striking color that caught Leo's eye. Despite the exuberance in his appearance, a somberness hung in the air as the lute's melancholic melody filled the space. Leo stood at a distance, observing the bard with keen interest. He noted the fluid movements, the subtle flicks of wrists and ankles that set the bells adorning Trist into motion, adding depth to the sorrowful tunes. Everything about the bard seemed to radiate sadness to those who paid attention.

Yet, as people passed by, smiles adorned their faces, greetings and compliments showered upon Trist for his masterful performance. It was indeed a captivating display, but they failed to grasp the pain concealed behind his façade.

Approaching the bard, Leo engaged him in conversation, each word tinged with a sense of desolation. The adeptness with which Trist crafted a façade of beauty to mask his inner torment intrigued Leo deeply. He felt compelled to delve further into the enigma that was the bard.

No, he NEEDED to unravel the mysteries veiled beneath Trist's cheerful exterior.

DWC- Day 1- Flirt

Leo had ascended far in his career as an escort, mastering the art of discerning people's desires and effortlessly weaving himself into their lives. Serving as the coveted trophy on the arm of nobility had not only earned him a reputation but also a substantial fortune, ensuring his comfort and style. Now, he reveled in his sense of power, feeling capable of manipulating anyone to fulfill his whims.

His latest target was a formidable businesswoman, the mistress of an extensive trading empire. Enthralled by her strength, cunning, and beauty, Leo saw her as the ultimate challenge. Standing nearly as tall as him, with a gaze that could intimidate the most confident man, she presented the perfect opportunity to test his skills.

One day, he made his move in the bustling market, shadowing her as she discreetly made mundane purchases. Leo observed her every move, analyzing her demeanor and mannerisms to devise his approach. Her effortless grace and poise were qualities he had spent years honing, yet she seemed to possess them effortlessly.

As he prepared to approach her, she preempted him with a cutting remark, piercing him with her steely gaze. Leo, dressed as a nobleman but far from it, sensed her judgment, perhaps aware of his profession and the façade of charm he maintained. "Done stalking me? Finally found the courage to speak to me?"

With a respectful bow, Leo offered a fabricated apology, "I apologize for having such an uncouth way of coming to you but I had to ensure you were the owner of this piece of jewelry that I suspected fell from you." He then presented a stunning ruby necklace he had skillfully liberated from her possession. It was a gorgeous marquise shaped ruby necklace in silver, feathers appearing to spring from the gem itself. Her finger had a ring that matched it's likeliness. Her surprise momentarily softened her icy demeanor as she accepted the necklace, her mind racing to comprehend how it had been returned to her.

Lifting it slowly from his palm she muttered, "Thank.. you." Her eyes remained on him in thought. Leo tilted his head, "Is something wrong?" She observed the necklace. It was very much real and it was hers. "How- when..." Leo smoothly deflected her inquiries with a fabricated tale of happenstance, masking his true actions behind a veneer of chivalry. He smiled at her, "Sometimes their latches can come loose. That goes for -any- piece of jewelry. Fortunately I was nearby to see when it fell from your neck."

A lie. He had stolen it straight off her neck masterfully without her noticing the weight of it lifted from her body.

The businesswoman, grateful yet suspicious asked, "How do I repay a kindness such as this? This is a custom set that no other owns. You could have very well made your way home with it."

"And what sort of gentleman would I be had I done so?" Leo smiled softly.

"Oh so you are a gentleman now?" That judgmental glare returned with a perk of her brow.

"Suppose it is a matter of perspective. But I like to think I am. But never mind paying me back. It was nothing but a simple gesture of kindness I suppose." Dismissing any notion of repayment, Leo maintained his façade of gallantry, deflecting her skepticism with a charming smile. As he gracefully took his leave, a sly smirk danced upon his lips, knowing he had successfully intrigued her.

In a twist of fate, the businesswoman, intrigued by Leo's charisma, extended an unexpected invitation, unwittingly falling into his carefully laid trap.

The woman asked, "Are you free for lunch?"

DWC- Day 6- Vanity/Feelings CW: Some blood and brutality at the very end

They stood intertwined in Ashenvale, each wrapped in the other's embrace, their significance to one another palpable. Perched nearby amidst the ruins were two ravens, exuding a mysterious void-like aura. Leo held his mysterious paramour close—a masked woman he'd encountered at a masquerade only a month or two prior. Since then, they had met in clandestine disguises, concealing their true identities from each other. Yet, their emotions had blossomed undeterred.

Masked and locked in an affectionate embrace, Leo's new love, known as "Mirage," whispered tender words to him, "I am glad that I have earned a place within your heart. For you surely have earned a safe haven within mine."

"I can only hope to do my place within your heart justice."

"But you already have, My Liege."

"What made you think you can trust me? And let me in? You haven't seen my face."

"Why would I need to see your face to see you? To truly see you? I know what you have given to me, I know how you've made me feel. I need nothing else from you beyond that. It matters not how you appear, but it matters more what kind of person you are."

Leo stood there, stunned by her words. His entire existence had been built upon the premise of presenting the best version of himself, primarily through his appearance. His face was his tool, his weapon—it was what drew people in, whether they were potential lovers or potential adversaries. It was all he believed he had.

All he had.

Yet, in that moment, the woman in his arms had shattered that belief by suggesting that he was lovable beyond his face.

As always, just when things seemed to be going well, and genuine affection was being offered to him, the voices started. It was the madness that came with the touch of the void, a constant internal struggle that he grappled with daily. Some days were easier to bear than others.

But today, the void seemed determined to triumph.

Leo staggered backward, his hands clutching his head as if trying to fend off the onslaught of voices and doubts that threatened to consume him.

Lies. You know you aren't worth anything without your face, your body. You will always be a tool of satisfaction and nothing more. You know this won't last. They all leave, they always do. She'll leave and so will all the others. It is only a matter of time..

The cacophony of voices, spanning all ranges, relentlessly battered Leo's mind, causing him physical anguish as he struggled to combat them. In the midst of this turmoil, the only respite came from the mental connection he shared with his spouse through their soulbind. Trist's soothing voice flooded his consciousness, bringing a sense of calm amidst the storm.

"Focus on her here my love she had no reason to lie. You are a King. A lord. You're a leige because of your darkness and your passion but she speaks. Truth because there is no reason to lie to a fantasy." Trist's voice had always served as a balm, something to ease even the darkest of Leo's moments.

"GET AWAY FROM ME!!" In real-time, Leo let out a primal roar directed at Mirage, a warning as the inner dialogue continued to communicate with his spouse. He understood the precariousness of the situation, knowing all too well that things could spiral out of control in the blink of an eye.

Despite the relentless resistance put up by the darkest aspects of Leo's psyche, Trist remained a steadfast source of reassurance, "I am here for you my dark god."

As Leo felt himself losing grip on every fragment of his being, sinking further into the abyss of madness, an unexpected relief washed over him. The voices, once tumultuous and overpowering, began to subside, their relentless pursuit of his psyche relenting.

However, it was a fleeting reprieve. Before he could fully grasp this newfound calm, Mirage, having witnessed Leo's descent into madness, took drastic action. With a forceful display of her own void powers, she bound him to a nearby pillar with aggressive determination.

The moment Leo's back collided with the pillar, the world around him plunged into darkness, enveloping him in its ominous embrace.

And all went black...

Minutes later, Leo regained consciousness, only to find himself sprawled on the ground, consumed by agony. His skin was charred, and it felt as though fire raged within him. A deep gash marred his right bicep, and his clothes hung in tatters. His once-fair skin now bore a hue as black as the night sky, shimmering with an ethereal starlight.

Art by SCHUREIZEG on YCH.Commishes

Beside him lay his lover, similarly transformed and bearing multiple wounds from the ordeal- mauled and bloody. Her beautiful dress had been in strips and torn to pieces. Though battered and bruised, she was alive, her breaths a testament to her survival.

What have I done?

DWC- Day 3- Bargain/ Myth

He had recently awoken, the lingering venom coursing through his veins, though its potency seemed diminished, as if countered by an antidote. Leo lay still, devoid of the strength even to shift his gaze around the room.

Bang, bang. He jerked in surprise. A voice, loud and filled with anger, reverberated through the space, striking every wall with its forceful presence.

Bang BANG.

Another involuntary twitch. His brain seemed to thrash against the confines of his skull, the sensation worsening with each passing moment as the overly excited voice persisted.

What were we talking about? Why the yelling? Can everything just stop existing for a moment?

A torrent of burning questions raced through his paralyzed mind as he struggled to compose himself, helpless and at the mercy of those surrounding him. The voice continued to yell, its words echoing loudly. "I trusted her with you!" it reverberated in his ears, cutting through the turmoil in his thoughts.

Oh, right. That's what we were talking about.

It had to cease—all of it. The agony, the anguish of his loved ones, the relentless sound.

"I won't see her anymore..." Leo spoke weakly.

A wave of shock rippled through the room. Leo understood the gravity of the situation, the significance of relinquishing this particular beloved, who held a special place in his heart. Yet, he was prepared to sacrifice anything to alleviate the suffering of those around him, especially Trist, the voice's owner.

"Are you sure...?" the question came hesitantly from Trist. "I am sure." Leo responded.

It wasn't a falsehood. Leo was certain he would sacrifice anything for his partner—certain that nothing was worth causing them distress. Yet, he understood it would come at a cost, though he hadn't fully comprehended what that might entail just yet.

DWC- Day 5- Notorious/Altruistic

Snatch.

With deft movements, apples vanished from one spot, a loaf of bread from another. The necklace of a noble disappeared, as did someone else's entire bag.

What's that commotion? Whoops, was that your sandwich? Not anymore.

Silvermoon City was gripped by a plague of thievery, perpetrated by a mysterious figure no one could apprehend. This elusive presence came and went swiftly, leaving market vendors in uproar.

Leo huddled in his humble abode, surveying his day's haul, mostly food for sustenance. Any material possessions would be sold off come morning to the fence.

Posters plastered the city walls, branding the culprit as "The Void".

"The Void? Hm, not bad. But could be better," Leo mused, emerging from his hideout to examine the poster. "No picture. How do they expect anyone to catch this person?" He flagged down passersby, pointing to the poster. "Seen this?" he asked.

The couple nodded. "Hope they catch whoever it is. A menace. A leech," they remarked, eyeing Leo's disheveled appearance with disdain.

"Indeed. But how will they catch them without a picture?" Leo queried genuinely.

"They'll set traps, obviously. What else?" the couple retorted.

"Traps? Like what?" Leo inquired.

"Bait them with what they steal most," they explained, rolling their eyes and moving on, advising Leo to take a bath.

Insults were nothing new to Leo- whether about his smell or looks, he had heard it all. He pondered the idea of traps as he returned to his makeshift shelter for the night. "Traps, huh? Good to know," he muttered before retiring.