How it all started…
Five years ago, two sisters boarded a bus to the town's bustling market. By the time they were heading back to catch the last bus to their village, the sun had already begun its slow descent, casting a crimson glow across the dusty road.
That was when they met her.
An elderly beggar.
Her back was bent with age, almost folded into itself. Her hair was stark grey, tangled like forgotten threads, and with the aid of a frail wooden stick, she shuffled from one passerby to another, pleading for alms.
"Please, my child… can you spare me a little change?" her voice trembled, dry and weary. "I'm so thirsty… and hungry. That bread across the road…" She lifted a shaking hand, pointing toward a small roadside stall.
"Hey, you old hag—buzz off!" the younger sister snapped harshly, waving her away as though she were nothing but a nuisance.
"Keira!" the elder sister's voice cut through sharply. "Don't speak to her like that."
Shoving her sister aside, Olivia stepped forward, her expression softening as she approached the old woman.
"Granny… did you say you want the fried buns and hot milk from across the road?" Olivia asked gently.
The old woman's wrinkled face broke into a rare, radiant smile. Her dull eyes suddenly flickered with life.
"Yes… child… very true…"
"Alright. I'll get it for you."
Olivia turned, ready to cross the road, but Keira grabbed her arm abruptly.
"Are you serious right now?" she hissed. "You don't even know her! Why do you care?"
Olivia smiled faintly. "You don't have to know someone before helping them."
"But that's the last money we have!" Keira protested. "How are we supposed to get home?"
"Don't worry," Olivia replied calmly, patting her shoulder. "Let me handle that."
Keira scoffed but said nothing more. She already knew—once Olivia made up her mind, there was no stopping her.
Moments later, Olivia returned, clutching a small brown paper bag.
"My child… you came back," the old woman said, her voice laced with something… unfamiliar.
"Here you go." Olivia handed her the bag. "Take care of yourself. My sister and I have to leave now."
From a distance, Keira shot her an impatient glare. "Sis, we need to go! What if we miss the last bus? Did you forget what Mama said about staying out too long?"
"Alright," Olivia sighed. "Let's go."
"Not so fast… child."
The voice stopped them cold.
Keira groaned in frustration. "What now? You already got what you wanted! Why are you stopping us again?"
Olivia frowned slightly. "Madam… my sister is right. You have what you asked for. So why—"
"Oh, my child… don't be offended—"
"Whose child?" Keira cut in sharply, folding her arms. "I'm tired of this. Sis, I'm leaving. If you want to stay and keep the old hag company, that's your business."
"Keira!" Olivia snapped, clearly disappointed. "How can you be so mean? Of course I'm coming."
"Then let's go," Keira muttered, grabbing her arm again.
But the old woman simply shook her head slowly.
"If you are in such a hurry… I won't stop you," she said.
Olivia turned back, something about her voice… had changed.
"I do not have much…" the old woman continued, her tone deepening. "But what I have… I shall give to you."
Keira let out a dry laugh. "Is this some kind of joke?"
"Ouch!" she suddenly cried, clutching her arm. "Sis! What was that for?!"
"Be quiet," Olivia warned firmly, raising a hand. "If you're so eager to leave, go ahead. I'll meet you."
Muttering under her breath, Keira stormed off.
Silence fell.
Olivia exhaled softly. "I'm sorry about her. She's usually kind… I guess she's just tired."
"Child… you are too kind."
Something about the way she said it made Olivia uneasy.
"But remember this…" the old woman added.
Olivia blinked.
And froze.
The hunched back… straightened.
The trembling hands… steadied.
The wrinkles… vanished as though erased by time itself.
Before her stood not a frail beggar—but a woman of unearthly beauty. Her skin was smooth and radiant, her posture regal, her piercing azure eyes gleaming under the dying sun.
Olivia's breath caught in her throat.
"Granny…?" she whispered, her voice barely audible.
"You cannot always defend her," the woman said calmly, stepping closer. "Love is not blind protection. Sometimes… it is correction."
Olivia remained crouched, unable to move, her entire body trembling.
"Rise, my sweet child."
The woman extended her hand. Hesitantly, Olivia took it, rising to her feet—though she dared not look directly into her face. There was something… overwhelming about her presence.
"There," the woman said, pointing toward a worn-out sack lying in the corner. "Inside is a gift I have prepared for you."
Olivia hesitated. "I… I can't accept this. You don't owe me anything. I only did what I felt was right."
"I am not complaining," the woman replied simply.
After a pause, Olivia slowly approached the sack and knelt beside it.
The moment she opened it—
Light spilled out.
Her eyes widened in shock.
Inside was an impossible treasure—gold, silver, jewels, artifacts of unimaginable worth, all crammed into that small, ragged sack.
"How… is this even possible?" she whispered, stunned.
"You may take only one," the woman said behind her. "Choose wisely."
Olivia's fingers hovered over the treasures, her heart racing. A diamond goblet caught her eye—but just as she reached for it, her hand brushed against something else.
A mirror.
Simple. Wooden. Cracked.
She pulled it out, wiping off the dust. Despite the faint crack across its surface, she could see her reflection.
Something about it… felt right.
"I choose this one," she said quietly. "I like it."
A faint smile curved the woman's lips.
"A brilliant choice. Though it seems ordinary… wait until its power unfolds. Even that crack shall mend."
Olivia frowned slightly. Power? It looked like nothing more than an old mirror.
"Listen carefully," the woman continued, her tone turning grave. "You must use it for good—and only at the right time. It sees you. It hears your heart. It feeds on your desires."
Olivia's grip tightened.
"You must be its master… not the other way around. When you have no use for it, cover it. Do not use it recklessly. And above all—"
Her voice dropped.
"Let no one else see it. Let no one take it from you. The consequences… will be far beyond what you can bear."
A chill ran down Olivia's spine.
She glanced at the mirror once more before slipping it into her bag.
"You must go now," the woman said, stepping back. "A bus awaits you at the stop—the last one."
"The last bus…" Olivia repeated under her breath.
"And remember," the woman added, her voice echoing strangely, "tell no one what you saw today."
Olivia turned and ran.
Her heart pounded as she raced toward the bus stop, her sister's impatience, the warning, the transformation—all swirling in her mind.
Behind her…
The road was empty.
The woman—
Gone.