Elise finds herself at the carnival once more, as the dim mists of fleeting, more "normal" dreams part way, melting into the familiar yet exotic sights and sounds of this festival of tribute to Inala, Goddess of Pleasure, held on the side of a mountain named after her. The view from here should be spectacular … but it seems that all there is to see is the mountain.

It isn't that if she were to look away from the mountain, she would see a blank space, or fog, or something amiss. It's just that, in the scope of dreams, it just isn't there, and there is nothing to bring it to mind that anything was omitted. Logic, after all, is of limited use in a dream, even one as exceptional as this. And so it is that Elise's sudden return to this carnival is not met with any emotion of surprise or a recollection that days and nights have passed since her last such adventure … nor any odd reaction to the absence of Lochinvar or Envoy on this leg of the journey. It's just a fluid continuation of where her adventures last left off.

Off to one side of the entrance to the tent is a booth where the ticket-taker wakes … the ubiquitous barker bat, smiling for the crowd, eager to please, eager to sing the praises of the wonders that lie within the Hall of Mirrors. And indeed he does, calling out for all and sundry to come and witness the wonder and mystery, and to see if they can penetrate the secrets hidden within these curtains, and find their way through the Hall of Mirrors … to Paradise, on the other side.

Other barkers hawk their attraction in loud voices, but their words are indistinct, paling beside the lure of the Hall of Mirrors, whose tent seems vivid and solid by comparison with the rest of the Carnival, at least at the moment. Held in the poodle's left hand, a gold foil ticket stirs in an unfelt breeze.

With but a dazed blink, the poodle steps off towards the barker. Upon nearing him, she holds up the ticket for him to inspect while lifting her other paw to gesture towards the Hall of Mirrors. "Paradise … awaits?" she asks with a hint of confusion and uncertainly.

The barker flashes Elise a winning smile, and deftly snatches the golden ticket from her hand, flicking his fingers and making it vanish as if by magic. "Why, it most certainly does! And, my fair Madame, you shall find it beyond this Grand Hall of Wonder, past these Looking Glasses. But be careful, lest you lose your way! It should be such a shame for you to find your way back here, and not on the other side!"

The poodle woman glances towards the entrance to the Hall, then back to the barker. She gives him a nod and smiles faintly. "A shame, yes. Well, here is to my reflection." She turns off from the man and begins heading towards the structure. A hand is lifted in half-hearted departing wave back to the Eeee.

The interior of the tent is dark compared to the outside … or is it? The reflections seem to extend indefinitely, without any sensible indication of just where the light is coming from that makes it possible to see one's way. The ground underneath is well-pressed dirt, and the ceiling above is the fabric of the tent, moving in ripples in the unfelt breeze … and the walls are made of mirrors that rise from the ground, supported by no visible framework. Countless Elises make their way in countless directions even as the real one enters the tent.

Every one of the reflections is just a bit odd. Some are tall and skinny, some squat and fat, and as Elise moves, even those change in shape, as if squeezed through unseen bottles and hourglasses and other strange shapes. In one mirror, Elise seems to split into two. In another, two merge into one and vanish entirely. And at the T Intersection ahead, there's something wrong about the Elise that is walking forward. For one thing … it doesn't look much like a poodle. That it's far too short to be Elise seems hardly out of place by comparison, but how the fur managed to turn red is beyond explanation.

Upon entry, the poodle draws her sword. Unlike previous dreams, the sword held is not the blade once known as the "Sword of the First Ones". No, this is Elise's standard Abaddonian metal blade. With it she moves to rake an X across the ground a few feet from the entrance before looking around further.

The poodle reflections look about as well. So does the fox-Elise directly ahead. Actually, it doesn't look much like Elise at all. It rather looks like a familiar foppish fox, and he's holding a lute instead of a sword.

A glance is cast towards her sword first. She gives a soft sigh as she considers it, before the presence of the fox catches her attention. She whips around to face him, ears perked, before moving forward. "Oh, my. Yes, you certainly do not need to scare me like that!"

The fox moves forward as well … and then suddenly doffs his hat and makes a sweeping gesture with it, as he bows! Before Elise realizes it, she's rising from a bow she just made as well, a mirror image of his own actions, without realizing it! "Well, well, well!" sings the fox, "just what do we have here today? Tell, tell, tell, or would you hear what I have to say?"

Shocked by the act of being moved without her consent, Elise glances around in annoyance before peering at the fox. "What you have here," she begins, making a wave to the things around her and herself, " … is another confusing moment, and Elise on a mission she finds more and more questionable. But very well, tell me what you have to say."

"The night is short, and so are your dreams, so I remind you, we haven't much time.
For things you see, are not as they seem – and, by the way, please speak to me in rhyme!" the fox sings, ending with a big grin. He strums his lute … then begins to dance about … and Elise finds herself doing a jig in a mirror image of the fox's antics.

The fox sings, "A pretty young girl, so pretty she be, in a land that's gloomy and hazy,
A warrioress true, quite unlike me, going through a hall so maze-y!"

The fox twirls about, singing, "In dreams, in dreams, are things what you see? They change so quickly, it's crazy,
In one mirror, you look like a tree, in another, you look like a daisy!"

"Stop tha-, OH! Cease this at once, you foolish foxish dunce!" She glares at him during her outburst. Of the many things that annoy her, perhaps being forced to act foolish ruffles her the wrong way more than most.

The fox hops along on one foot, kicking the other out, crying, "Is it a reflection, or the truth of thee, if you look like that, how long will it stay-sie? Or in a dark image, a danger to flee, if too longing is your gaze-y?"

The fox twirls back the other way, swinging and singing, "Don't look too long, for nothing is free; this land won't reward the lazy!
Keep your eye on the path, trust nothing but me, and you'll find the right way to play-sie!"

And then the fox stops playing, dancing and singing, and bows to the poodle. "Thank you! Thank you so much! You've been a wonderful audience!" Elise, of course, is forced to mirror the action, and, imitating his exaggerated bow, finds herself staring at the X she just marked on the dirt and bobbing up and down like a puppet on unseen strings … and then when she's finally able to look again … the fox is gone! The mirror he was in, curiously enough, does not reflect Elise's image.

It seems that, at last, Elise is free to control her own movements again, with the fox-image gone.

The sword hilt is squeezed and the poodle simmers quietly. "Oh! One of these days I am going to strangle him! How dare he, manipulating a noble! Why … " She continues like this for a bit longer. Her tail flicks agitatedly as she walks off further into the House of Mirrors.

The effect of so many distorted poodles is very disorienting. Even as Elise makes the first turn into the maze, she finds it hard to get her bearings. Images in the glass before her separate her body into two halves: a large, globular head, and tiny, disconnected pear-shaped body. The eyes in the face seem to stare back at her, wide and huge.

As things start to get confusing, Elise dips her sword towards the ground so as to trail a line in the dirt as she walks. While doing so, she inspects the mirrors she passes, with limited attention. After all, they seem to be unflattering, and with her recent scars, she would rather not be reminded how she looks in such a grotesque way.

Elise's sword traces a line in the dirt … and then … lets out a loud screech as it hits glass. The floor has now become another mirror, warped and distorted like all the others.

Loud screeches are not comfortable to poodle ears. The sword is quickly removed from touching the floor, and Elise winces for a moment. "Wonderful," she says as she rubs an ear. Another sigh escapes her, and she continues further in inspecting the mirrors briefly in passing.

As Elise turns the next corner in the maze, she finds herself facing a mirror that presents an image that could not possibly be the product of mere warped glass. Within moves an ethereally beautiful Elise; her features more delicate, her form more slender, her hair longer and perfectly arranged, unlike the cadet who walks through the halls. The reflection mimics Elise's movements, but in a fashion somehow more graceful. Clad in an ornate and beautiful ball gown, she seems more at home with herself than Elise has ever been in her ceremonial armor.

As the Gallee makes her way in, her eyes pass, then stop, upon this most flattering reflection of herself. Her fingers loosen and quite nearly end up dropping the sword she carries as she stares on, wide eyed. Her free hand lifts so that the reflection's lifts as well, and she moves a step closer to inspect. "My … "

Somewhere, elsewhere in the hall, Elise's ears pick up the faint sound of laughter, for the briefest of moments.

The hand behind the glass imitates Elise's motion, reaching out to the cadet. The step she takes towards the poodle is gentle and lady-like, and her eyes are full of a sympathy and quiet understanding that beckons the armored canid closer.

An ear rotates to trace the sound, but Elise is really too enamored of the reflection to search beyond that token movement. She tilts her head to the side a little, looking into her own greater mirrored eyes. She smiles a little and moves to step forward again, but … hesitates. Finally her eyes break from the image and gaze down at her own true form.

As she tries to look down at herself, Elise feels oddly disoriented as she still sees the beautiful dress that the image in the glass wore. In fact, all around her are distorted reflections of the gorgeous poodle. After a moment, Elise realizes that she has become the figure in the mirror, looking exactly like it.

Wide eyes stare down at the new and – while not greatly changed – utterly beautiful form to the poodle's mind. She can only stare for a long moment, for the fantasy she has become has deep seeds in the imagination of a noble girl. But, for all that she seems to be now, the poodle suddenly squeezes her eyes shut. She clenches her hands and shakes her head. "No … No! This is … this is not the way it is! This can never be! I know that!"

Armor and sword are gone, replaced by a pastel blue dress that compliments her eyes without matching them, and a lace fan that she clenches shut in one delicate fist with her outburst of denial. The full skirt of the gown sways elegantly around her legs, boned bodice fitted snugly about her slender waist. Puffy, off-shoulder sleeves and a sapphire-and-diamond choker and bracelet set complete the image.

The now elegantly dressed poodle breathes quietly, eyes still shut. She takes a moment to remind herself of the truth, or at least the truth as she sees it. "This is not real. I know this, because I knew it would never be reality back then. Nothing has changed. I made my vows." Her eyes open, and with some of her confidence restored, she simply walks onward further into the fun house. "I must move on."

When she opens her eyes, the mirrors around her still reflect the same elegant image she saw before in the mirror. Even her simple walk is transformed into the graceful steps that her etiquette teacher could never make completely natural to her; her gait is perfect now, surpassing Kathryn's for grace.

Elise bites her lip as she walks. She tries hard to ignore what has happened, instead opting for the road ahead. The road ahead after all, is less painful than remaining stationary. For then, she would have to consider herself again. And she knows she could not endure that forever. Despite no longer holding a sword, she still has her dreams. And her weaknesses.

As Elise steps past the next mirror, a warrior moves into view within it. The figure wears armor similar to Elise's, but it has fewer adornments, and looks sturdier, holding a body taller and stronger than the cadet's. Although the reflection is imitating Elise's motions, its stride is more purposeful and confident. The face of the poodle behind the glass is Elise's, except that the jaw line is stern, and the gaze is tough, unafraid, every inch the proud warrior.

A pause, and Elise considers this next image. "I … I am not this warrior. This is neither my fantasy, nor my reality. I am not this brave, nor so intent on my path that I would gaze longingly into this mirror," she explains to herself out loud so she can hear herself say it. Without further consideration, she moves on.

Even though she has turned away from the reflection, it seems that she can feel it watching her. While her slippers pad almost soundlessly against the glass floor, the poodle hears the faint echo of chitin boots striking glass behind her.

Despite her wanting to move on, the Gallee cannot ignore the possible threat of something following her. She turns around and quite nearly brandishes … her fan. Realizing she is unarmed, she simply drops her guard and looks on, hoping it was her imagination.

Although Elise drops her guard, the poodle warrior in the glass does not. It continues to hold a blade of fine steel in the position that the cadet initially attempted to assume, and its blue eyes bore into Elise's with undisguised contempt and malevolence.

With a gasp, Elise – the delicately dressed Elise – steps back away from her more frightening warrior aspect. A hand is lifted to her chest in shock as well as fear and she cowers away. "I … I know you!" she tells figure before her.

The warrior-Elise steps forward with the same pace that the gown-clad one backs away, the point of her sword coming almost to the edge of the glass that she stands within. "And I you," she says coldly. "You are weak. Unworthy."

"But I, I am not weak! I am not so very strong as I might wish, but I have not stood down, aside, nor have I failed!" pleads Elise back to her double. She does not take any steps back, but stands a bit more firm and holds her hands out. "I cannot say I am strong, but I do not ever wish to be that strong! I am still myself, even if I chose to take up a sword. You have no right to question my strength! I am trying!"

The soldier raises her sword, and brings it down against the mirror. Glass shards explode outwards, carpeting the passageway, tinkling against the mirrored walls and ceiling. "Trying?" Elise's voice snarls back at her. "You are not trying now! Look at you! You've not taken up the sword – you've abandoned it!" The warrior steps through the jagged place where the mirror had been, brandishing her blade.

Despite her normal resolve, something about the dress and the feelings attached with it cause Elise to step back again. Back, away from the conflict. "I do not always carry it! It is true, I do most days now. Most situations. But, not always. And you should know as I do, we never wanted to pick it up! We had other fantasies, but we abandoned them because we had to! My sword is duty, and I have not abandoned it!"

A low growl builds in her throat as the doppleganger approaches the shrinking Elise. "But you should have wanted it! It is your birthright, and you would prefer to deny it! You do not deserve the House de Bellefeuille. Such rights belong to me, for I would appreciate it! Glory in it! Not merely accept my 'duty' and forever long to be simpering and helpless."

"Maybe you are right. Maybe somewhere, I do desire that. But that is merely a fantasy. I am much stronger than my fantasies!" The shrinking girl shrinks no more. She straightens up a bit and gestures her fan at the warrior. "YOU deserve none of it, for I, no matter how weak you may declare me, am the holder of my house. I may not be perfect, but neither have I failed or backed down when I was needed. I may shrink, but only because I am not without emotions. Yes I am scared of you. But I will not tolerate you berating me! I have done well, and you cannot deny that!"

"I don't need to deny it! You already have!" With a harsh bark, the warrior leaps for Elise, her sword arcing forward in a stroke aimed at her sapphire-and-diamond encircled neck.

The poodle's ears flatten against her head as the sword arcs towards her. (Have I denied it?) Her eyes squeeze shut and she holds her arms up in defense and shrinks quickly away from the approaching weapon.

Eyes closed and feet backing away, Elise is unaware as she steps on one of the fallen splinters of broken glass. Mirror slides against mirror and her feet go out from under her, toppling her to her rear. The warrior's blade slices through the air above her head.

"Eeek!" cries Elise as she collapses backwards onto the floor. She whimpers pitifully for a moment before pushing herself back as far as she can move along the floor, and bumping into the mirrors behind her. "Please, leave me alone!"

The armored Elise recovers from her lunge with a snarl, and plunges the sword downwards, slicing through the elaborate gown as the poodle scoots backwards. As her target hits the mirrored wall, the warrior brings the sword back to direct another sweeping stroke at her torso.

Unable to gather any courage to fight – not like this – Elise lifts herself up to her feet and … runs away! She gives off another frightened scream and dashes off further into the Hall of Mirrors, away from the warrior!

Contemptuous of her victim's ability even to escape, the warrior-Elise stops short her blow as the other scrambles to her feet and turns to run. A bark of laughter echoes at the lady's back as the soldier crunches one booted foot down on the train of her dress, intending to root her in place and cut her down from behind. But she fails to account for the splinters of glass on the floor, and when the fabric is pressed by her chitin boot against it, it shreds, allowing the poodle to escape.

Without even a glance back, the near hysterical Elise races into the hallway and does not stop until she is quite certain she is now alone.

Curses echo against the glass walls and the sound of booted feet thudding into mirrors is terrifyingly loud behind her. Turns come up and flash past as Elise chooses among them blindly, hoping only to escape the raging figure behind her. Fortunately, her dress proves to be less encumbering than the warrior's armor, and after many turns she can only just hear the sounds of her pursuer, barely audible above her own racing heart, quite likely lost in the maze.

With her the terrible stalker lost somewhere in the maze, Elise takes a moment to calm herself. She clasps her hands to her chest and slumps against the nearest wall. There she remains panting and whimpering quietly until at last her eyes open and – while still she recovers – look around.

After she calms herself, when she looks in a mirror beside her, Elise sees a reflection of herself in a plain day dress, with ink-stained fingers and a book instead of a fan held in one hand. The look in the image's eye as she returns Elise's gaze is cool and appraising, tinged with intellectual curiosity.

Startled by another one of herself so close, the Gallee quickly scoots away until she realizes this one isn't about to attack her. Or isn't yet, anyway. Curiously, she scoots over closer to it again and inspects it. "The scholar? Oh, I am not much of a scholar either. But in the very least, I far prefer it to being a warrior," she considers quietly to herself.

The poodle in the mirror snorts at Elise's comment, and turns to open her book. "No, you certainly aren't," she concurs, thumbing past a few pages.

Before she can quite scream again, Elise reaches over to cover her muzzle to muffle it. She lets her hand drop quietly before she reaches a little for the scholar. "No. And I know it. My marks are above average in school, but, I simply try so hard for the same reason I wield a sword," she tells the scholar.

Elise glances at her hand. "Or did wield a sword, anyway … "

The doppleganger lifts her book level with her muzzle, eyes intent on it. "You ought to have tried a bit harder at it. Would've done you more good than that sword ever did, and certainly more good than she ever will." She looks up at that word to give a scornful once-over of Elise's current appearance.

A sigh and the true Elise nods a little bit. "I … I know. I just … could not fight her. Not like this." She pulls her legs up and hugs them to her chest with her arms. "I … I suppose I just could not fight her. I always have to fight. Why is it so, no one ever saves me?"

A laugh. "The fox certainly tried hard enough. He spelled out what you had to do plainly enough, and you'd not be in this mess if you'd paid attention instead of spending your energies fretting over a little lost dignity," the scholar informs Elise remorselessly. She returns her attention to the book, studying it intently, thumbing past another page. The sound of chitin on glass is louder now, as if the warrior was getting closer.

Elise considers this a moment, and then nods once. She pulls herself up to her feet and inhales deeply before exhaling. "Of course. I … could go on about why I did that. I do expect however, you know as well as I do. My … admirer will be here soon. I believe it is time for me to move on." She gathers her courage, pulling at what reserves she has that are not hiding deep inside her, and dashes off again.

As the lady dashes off, the scholar looks surreptitiously from her book to track her departing form. She wrinkles her muzzle for a moment, then goes back to her book.

After passing through another seemingly endless series of twisting, reflective, distorted glass, the sounds of pursuit once again dim. As Elise strains to catch them, she hears something else, as well. Birdsong?

"Hm?" Ears perk at the sound of he song, and given that the sound of chasing boots is distant, she takes a moment to listen carefully.

Of the three exits from the area she's now in, the sound seems to be coming from the corridor to her right. It's the same one she entered from; probably the sound of her own running feet had prevented her from hearing it earlier.

Curiously, and uncertain as to just what makes the right path through here right, Elise turns around and cautiously walks back that way to check. After all, she thinks, she could have very well ran past the exit.

The twittering of birds grows a little louder. So do the booted footsteps. Both sounds seem to echo down a turn in the corridor she has not yet reached.

"I am not running this time," says Elise to herself in an attempt to bolster her confidence. Without turning back, she heads on towards the sounds of the birds. If anything, mirrors do not make sounds, but Paradise may very well. At least, she hopes so.

A few more turns, and the mirrored floor beneath her ends, becoming unmarked dirt. The birds are distinct now, singing joyously down the dirt-floored corridor, while the footsteps are echoing in from back within the fully mirrored enclosure.

Preferring the exit to a conflict, the poodle woman decides leaving would be the better choice. She presses on towards the sound, while glancing over her shoulder.

Sunlight floods the corridor as Elise nears the exit, and when she steps out from the Hall of Mirrors, she is greeted by a gorgeous view of the mountainside, carpeted in lush green grass. Trees and bushes adorned with flowers in an array brilliant colors are placed in an orderly fashion around the stands, buildings, and elaborate, intricate rides that stretch for as far as Elise can see, built into the variable slope both above and below her. Elegant statuary and fountains, some of them suggestive or outright erotic, add to the ornamentation at the center of small parks or frescoed onto the buildings.

"Paradise?" asks Elise as she steps out into the open air. Her once beautiful, now torn and tattered dress trails behind her as she walks. The fan too is unfolded now, and carried in hands folded in front of her.

An Eeee who might have been the same barker to take her ticket at the entrance to the Hall offers her a broad smile and doffs his hat for an elaborate bow. "Welcome, m'lady. Welcome, indeed." He replaces his hat as he straightens. "You're not to Paradise yet, I'm afraid… " He shades his eyes to look up the mountainside. "But you can almost see it from here."