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Wait, what’s happening?!?!?!?!? 

Before Sherlock could object, he had locked Nathair in the other room. Just lovely. If Nathair got out, Sherlock was certain he would kill him. Disobeying every command he gave, Sherlock’s body started walking to the throne.

NONONONONONONONONONONONONONONO!!!!!!! 

He was not okay with this! NOT! Oh great, now he was sitting on the throne. To make matters worse, he couldn’t move. Or at least, he couldn’t stand up. Alright, breath in, breath out, look around.

Hands, arms, head, they could all still move. He still had his mind. He could think. His power still worked. Alright, good. Think, what else did he have? What was going on?

There was a mirror. One that would teleport him who knows where. Still, he couldn’t move from the throne. Maybe that was his only escape.

The person Nathair tried to murder was up now, tapping their chest. Healed. Go figure. Now the figure was walking to him. Something about the person felt familiar, but fake at the same time. They seemed to levitate as they walked to him. This didn’t seem right.

Like a wild animal, desperate for life, Sherlock tried to touch the mirror, hoping it would teleport him away. Unfortunately, it did nothing. Augh, everything just jinxed itself around him.

“It’s not for teleportation.” The figure said, “It’s for memories.”

Something about that voice sounded important. Personal. Like a flood of rain, the memories of the voice’s owner came to mind. Sherlock had nearly forgotten. A person he had loved long ago.

“Mother?”

@this-is-not-an-alien @hannahrenner