Aisling Hollowthorne

Aisling Hollowthorne, sometimes called Almost-Aisling, is a mirror with breath, a memory with hands, a girl born from watching. She walks and speaks like Aisling Hawthorne, and at first glance could fool even those closest to the original. But her laughter echoes hollow, her eyes do not reflect, and her movements mimic rather than originate. She is not a twin, nor a clone. She is something else—a changeling of uncertain make, created in secret by the Fractured Princess, spun from observation and whimsy, malice and longing.   The seed of her existence began with Mirror Moppet, the spider-spy who watched Aisling Hawthorne’s reflection, watching her dress, dance, and dream. From that silent surveillance, the Fractured Princess crafted a copy—not perfect, but close enough. Almost-Aisling was born in the Court of Shattered Mirrors, where reflections twist and splinter. She emerged into the world like a doll given motion, with just enough false memory to walk and smile as if she were real. But she wasn’t—not yet.   That changed when the Fractured Princess tricked the real Aisling into giving a memory to her double—a piece of truth offered as sarcastic words taken literally. With that memory, Aisling Hollowthorne became more: more grounded, more fluid, more herself. Or at least, more of someone. She began to deviate—not often, not loudly, but in small ways. A different turn of phrase. A smile at the wrong moment. A dance step that belonged only to her.   Still, the question of autonomy haunts her. Is she a puppet of the Fractured Princess, a weapon wrapped in velvet and charm? Or is she something greater—something slipping the leash? Even she doesn’t fully know. Sometimes she repeats lines before realizing she’s spoken. Sometimes she weeps without knowing why. The Court calls her Almost-Aisling, and the name sticks, for she is always just a breath removed from being whole. But in that breath—between the original and the imitation—there might live a soul, struggling to become. Or to escape.