I’m staying in a very large and very old house up on a hill that overlooks the coast. The weather is permanently overcast. A stillness drapes across the area like a weighted blanket, and belies the low crash of waves against the sea cliffs below.

The house is kept in trust by an old woman and a few servants. I’m not the only guest, but in total we’re few enough to keep the house from ever feeling full.

Most rooms are open to me, but I receive a warning about one. The room is a study, with shelves of books lining the walls. Wedged between two shelves and set into the wall is an ornate mirror. I find myself gazing into it one afternoon when I’m startled by a sharp voice at my back.

“You don’t want to look too closely into that mirror. You’ll learn things about yourself you’d rather not know.” said the withered keeper of the manor. “I’ll be locking this room each evening. It’s particularly dangerous at midnight.”

I gave the old woman a puzzled look and she replied “There’s no lights in here, and everything is such a tripping hazard. It’s really best if you leave it alone dear.”

The staff retired early each night to a servant’s quarters attached to the far wing of the house. I found myself wandering the corridors not soon after while my thoughts tumbled around my sleepless head.

It wasn’t long before I found myself at a familiar door, though now a rusted padlock held the catch closed. I raised my hand to feel the worn engravings on the face of the lock, and to my surprise it snapped open at my touch. The lock slid through the chain catch and slumped to the carpet without so much as a sound.

I had never been one for excess caution, and thought perhaps one of the dusty books might lull me to sleep. I entered the study.

It was true that the room was dark, but I had my phone’s flashlight to help with that. The house had no wireless network, and no carrier reached the area. Something about atmospheric interference kept either from being practical. A flashlight was more useful than a search engine during my evening escapade anyway.

I perused the rows of books for any that might make for good nighttime reading when something caught my eye. A shaft of moonlight had pierced through a single window set near the roof of the high ceiling. It plunged down into the center of the mirror, and made the surface glitter.

I strode forward and looked into my moonlit reflection and gasped. My body in the mirror was wreathed in moonlight, and my form danced with shifting shadows. The face gazing back at me was not my own. The figure raised one scintillating hand and pressed a single finger to her lips. “Quiet now. There’s no need to scream. Save your breath, we have much to speak about.”

And we did. The woman made of moonlight told me many things, although the memory is now slick in my mind like oil floating on the sea. I dutifully listened to her instructions as she had me echo an incantation that hummed like the faint crashing of the waves far below.

Looking back I’m aware that my tutelage under the lady in the mirror spanned many meetings across many full moons, but the time between each lesson is a blur to me now.

Our final meeting took place on the night of a new moon. I worried my teacher wouldn’t have the light needed to take her form behind the mirror, but my fear was put to rest on crossing the threshold.

The room glowed with moonlight radiating from her body as she stepped out of the mirror to meet me. The glass no longer held her from my world. Her eyes met mine as she closed the distance between us, and soon her lips followed.

We kissed deeply. Sparks of light buzzed along our skin as we held each other close. She poured her light into me and I drank it down with the same thirst I had for her lips. She stroked my face with one hand and smiled at me as tears escaped her eyes.

I woke up.