Reflections, masks, portraits, shadows and photographs. In folklore, they are believed to contain part of our soul, and therefore to be invested with power. But this power they hold has also inspired some of our deepest fears: worlds hidden below the surface, trapped souls, shadowy beings stealing our likeness.
Long before we traced the first lines to represent a human figure, we learnt to recognise ourselves in our reflection on the water. Later, we fashioned mirrors from metal, then glass. The mirror became a powerful symbol associated with the unconscious and the unseen. In this issue, we peer into its depths to reveal portals to other realms; rituals from the past, the present, and the future; folk traditions for the shortest nights; stories of fetches, changelings, doppelgängers and vampires. When the glass dissipates into a bright silvery mist, we will face questions about truth and illusion, identity and transformation, essence and transcendence.
This issue feels like standing in front of a mirror at midnight and realizing the reflection is thinking independently of you. It’s eerie, elegant, and soaked in that uncanny folklore energy where every shiny surface is a doorway and every shadow has an opinion.
Hellebore dives into mirrors the way only Hellebore can — not as objects, but as portals, traps, warnings, and invitations. The whole thing hums with the idea that reflections aren’t passive; they’re participants. Masks, portraits, photographs, shadows… all those things we pretend are harmless suddenly feel like they’re holding their breath, waiting for you to blink.
The issue wanders through the old fears: souls caught in glass, doubles walking free, fetches and changelings wearing your face like a borrowed coat. It leans into that delicious dread of “what if the thing that looks like me isn’t me at all.” And then it folds in the rituals — the ones for the shortest nights, the ones that blur truth and illusion, the ones that make you wonder whether mirrors reveal or deceive.
There’s this gorgeous thread running through the whole thing about identity and transformation. The way mirrors show us what we are, what we fear, and what we might become if we’re not careful. It’s introspection with teeth. Reflection as revelation. Or maybe reflection as threat.
The vibe is pure Hellebore: moody, scholarly, witchy, and unsettling in that quiet way that lingers after you close the pages. The art is stunning — silvery, shadow‑soaked, and just uncanny enough to make you tilt your head and wonder if something moved when you weren’t looking.
This issue doesn’t just explore mirrors. It becomes one. You read it, and it reads you right back.
A bit more of an obscure topic for Hellebore. My favourite article was "The vampire's lost reflection" but I also found "Lucifer in London" very interesting though I was not as familiar with it's subject matter