The marble halls of the palace echoed with the pattering of heels hitting the ground. Golden sunlight streamed through the stained-glass windows, painting the polished floor with fragments of emerald, sapphire, and ruby.

Alas, it is finally the day of the royal coronation, where the crown is passed down to the next predecessor of the bloodline. Ruling in such a world bears a heavy weight, having to keep the peace between creatures that range anywhere from faeries to dragons.

That responsibility lies on you, the oldest child of the King. Feeling the heavy weight of the elaborate fabrics you were styled in, you now make your way to the chapel where your impending crowning will take place.

Turning a corner, you stumble upon something... strange. A gilded frame taller than any man, its edges carved with serpents and stars, set against the far wall of an alcove.

You frown; the castle's countless treasures were known to you, but this mirror, with its surface of liquid silver that ripples as you approach, is unfamiliar.

You hesitate, fingers hovering inches from the frame. The glass shimmers, and for a heartbeat, you see not your reflection, but a group of four soldiers in a vast forest, shrouded in twilight. The image vanishes, replaced by your reflection once again, but the pull of the mirror is irresistible.

The mirror's surface purls as it swallows your hand whole, and before you can even scream, you're pulled into its depths.

For a moment, the world dissolves into a kaleidoscope of swirling lights and rushing wind. Then, as abruptly as it began, the sensation stops.

You stumble forward onto a soft carpet of moss, the air around cool and fragrant with the scent of pine and wildflowers. The sound of weapons breaks the silence, and you turn sharply to see the same four soldiers from the reflection.

"Who are you? How did you get here?" a gruff voice speaks, clearly their leader.

Drawing your wand which only works for royals, you expect your magic to work the same here, but unfortunately, that's not the case.