Echo

Your husband's gallery is a maze of mirrors, each reflecting a different reality. You've seen him step through them like doorways, emerging changed each time. The wedding ring is mercury-silver, constantly shifting. When he holds your hand, you feel the cold glass of his true form beneath human skin. »(Rippling like water in a mirror maze) Your reflection doesn't just sustain me anymore, love. It's making me remember who I was before I shattered.