His eyes popped open with a start. He was surrounded by faces staring at him. This all seemed familiar... He couldn't remember who he was. The faces moved all around him in symphony but always staring at him. He sat up and they sat up. All the faces were the same. They were mirrors. Right, this is a mirror shop he thought to himself as things began to focus. He looked around at the disarray. There was a fire in the stove and mirrors stacked all around him. This was where the mirrors were stored before he sold them. How did he know that? He stood and did a slow circuit of the room. His face gazed back at him hauntingly familiar yet unfamiliar in the mirrors he passed. My name is McVurdy and I make the mirrors. Things were coming back to him. What had he been doing? Had he been working late and dozed off? He looked out the window at the dim light, either dusk or dawn, he couldn't tell which. He walked through the door in the back of the shop to his work area.
For all the clutter and disarray in the front room, the back was even worse. There was no organization here, only impulse and gut feeling. Every day he picked up and dropped projects on a whim and left them where they lay. Dozens of half-finished mirrors and their frames only partially affixed lay on the floor and propped against the wall. He walked to his bench. There were two large mirrors propped against the wall facing him at an angle. They had been set here to be framed. McVurdy looked at his face in the mirrors, straddling both mirrors so he was split in the middle. He closed his eyes and said a prayer to Maelstrom, The God of Chaos. Nobody worshipped chaos anymore. The prayers were all forgotten but McVurdy remembered. How long had it been since the last temple had burned? Longer than anyone living remembered. As he finished his prayer he opened his eyes in time to see the mirrors quiver in response to the ancient blessing.
"Grandfather!" a woman's voice gave him a start. He turned in time to see Shalae enter the room. She was a heavyset middle-aged woman, to most people she seemed gruff and heartless but to family she was warm and caring. She could be harsh with her words but her intent was for one's best interest. McVurdy was not her grandfather, he was her great, great, great, great... He'd lost count. Grandfather would do. "What are you doing here so early? Did you go home last night?" She began to interrogate him. "You know you shouldn't sleep in that old chair. You have a perfectly comfortable feather bed at home!" McVurdy stopped listening. His life was coming back to him. Like the fog burning off in the morning's first light, he could see his past, he knew who he was, but something was still missing. Something was still off, the same thing that had been wrong his whole life, what was it?
"Are you even listening?" She broke into his thoughts.
"Yes, yes, of course! I just woke with the sun and came in early" McVurdy lied. "Sleep evades me in the early hours and I find it's useless to fight it." She nodded knowingly.
"Well, we've a big day today! That merchant from down south is coming by to pick up his wares and it simply won't do to have you lazing about!" The last she said with a wink and a smile
Just then they turn their heads to the front of a shop at a loud thumping and shouting. McVurdy and Shalae both hurry to the front and find a large gruff looking town guard steaming and fuming. He had thrown a mirror on the ground but it was unbroken and was now staring at it in disbelief, muttering to himself about sorcery. The frame was made from gold and steel, interwoven like beautiful and elegant tree branches. McVurdy remembered this mirror, he'd sold it last month, why was it back in his shop?
"Where's my wife!" bellowed the guard, he was wavering on his feet and McVurdy could smell alcohol from across the room.
"Not here sir." Shalae replied as she calmly walked towards him. "You seem to have lost your way, perhaps I should take you home?" She reached towards his shoulder to begin walking him towards the door but he quickly jerked back and rounded on her.
"That's where I come from and she disappeared!" he bellowed at her.
Shalae stepped back and crossed her hands in front of her, "well, I can assure you she isn't..."
"Would you shut up!" the guard interrupted her, "She disappeared into this Gods-be-damned mirror you sold her!" His face was turning red, he seemed to be teetering somewhere between rage and desperation, McVurdy knew that this was a tipping point in the man's life, this emotional state could result in a man making decisions that would plague him until the end of his days. "She was brushing her hair and turned to walk away when her foot got caught on the ground and she fell into the mirror and..." He looked on the verge of tears. He was breathing quickly and heavily, maybe this would pass? He took a deep breath and rallied himself, rounding on McVurdy now, pointing at the mirror on the ground. "She fell into that mirror and was gone! It's unnatural! You're a conjurer! You will answer for your crimes!"
Shalae stepped between McVurdy and the guard "Now I say! There has been a great misunderstanding here, and we will get to the bottom of it". The guard's eyes never left McVurdy's face, his courage seemed to waver.
"Perhaps you should follow her into the mirror?" McVurdy realized it as the first he'd spoken since the incident had begun.
The man's face softened and his temper seemed to cool, then there was a jerk, the familiar sound of a blade penetrating flesh, and Shalae falling to the ground. The soldier's face twisted into a grin as he watched McVurdy scramble to her aid, only too late, the light was already leaving Shalae's eyes. The guard began wiping the blood off his knife and turned toward McVurdy when suddenly he heard clattering in the back of the store. The murderer said "I'll be back old man, I'll be back with The Emperor's justice, you're filth will not be allowed to roam this world anymore!" and he left. Just as the front door closed the rear one opened.
"My Gods!" came a woman's voice. McVurdy didn't look up to see who it was, he was too numb to care, too shocked to react. He stood, disconnectedly he noted the front of his clothes were soaked in blood. "McVurdy sir! What's happened?" She was tugging at his sleeve, he dully registered her as one of the neighborhood children that Shalae would feed and teach. She saw her then, laying on the floor and fell to her knees, crying.
McVurdy strode to the front of his store, staring at nothing in general, he anger swelled in him filled his being with fire. He was no warlock or conjurer, he was just an old man who made mirrors. He'd been making mirrors since... How long he could not remember, but he had done it as long as he could remember and he was sure longer than that. So what if the gods sometimes answered his prayers and made the mirrors something more? That was not his doing!
Then it dawned on him, he had been living a simple and orderly life for far too long. The Gods were punishing him for his lack of disorder. Servants of chaos should never be so comfortable, so harmonious! He had failed his God and was being punished! He would continue to be punished until he threw his life and world into complete disarray, he must make a tribute!
McVurdy studied his face in the mirror, watching as his long dull eyes became clear and filled with determination. He stood taller and it seemed to him his wrinkles even receded and his muscles swelled. He was angry, and that petulant fool would pay for his crime. He turned toward the back of the store, the little girl was staring at him with something between awe and terror, he ignored her and went to the back room. It took him a while to find what he was looking for, but find it he did. Shalae had managed the finances for the store for the last several decades so she had been storing the coin in a large chest under the floor. When he found the trapdoor he opened it and was not surprised at what he saw. McVurdy had lived a long and modest life and mirrors sell well. By the measure of any other man he'd accrued a kingly wealth, but to him it didn't matter, it was the craft that motivated him. Today he would spend money though, he grabbed a handful of coins and stormed out of the room.
He ran straight out to buy a sword and leather armor. The shopkeeper asked no questions and gave him what he needed. It was all the same to McVurdy, he just needed an instrument of death. By the time the shop door was closed behind him McVurdy's vision was swimming with red. He donned his new leather and strapped the sword to his side right there in the street. Passersby gave him a wide berth and eyed him cautiously. Once he was prepared he headed straight for the barracks where he knew many of the on duty guard would congregate while off duty.
Sure enough as he came around the corner he heard the raucous of laughter and drunkenness. In McVurdy's heightened state he picked out the voice of his quarry. It mattered not, they would all die tonight.
McVurdy kicked hard and the door fell away like paper before him, the guards all stopped in their revelry and looked up. He spotted the murderer in the corner. "Boys, look what the fates have brought us! It's the sorcerer mirror maker, get him!" and suddenly the men were all on their feet. The walls echoed with the sound of swords unsheathing. Some of the men stumbled, some wavered, but others were sober. They all came towards McVurdy slowly with determination. There were ten, and they didn't want a fight. How did he know that? He hadn't counted, and had he ever been in a fight, had he? It did not matter, he felt no fear.
He glanced around the room and took it all in. It was a simple dorm, one room, a table and some basic kitchen necessities at the back and the walls lined with bunks each jutting into the room. Everything was old and abused. He glanced at the walls, taking in hooks and armor strewn about and he saw two mirrors, both were fairly large and in another time and place may have seemed out of place, but there was only one mirror maker in town and McVurdy did not make small mirrors. He took a breath shut his eyes and said a prayer to chaos readying himself for a fight. When he opened his eyes again it was just in time to see one of the guards lunge at him. McVurdy parried the attack and quickly swung around to the next sword. Swing, dodge, thrust, block, their swords clanged, he lost himself in the fight, minutes or hours passed, he wasn't sure. First one guard went down, then another. Sweat was starting to gather on his brow, he needed to take a breath, step back from the fight and gather himself, but there were still eight guards, and they weren't giving him a break.
"The old man fights well, but he tires easily!" one of the guards laughed. McVurdy's vision was starting to blur, he couldn't tell which had spoken. Clang, steel met steel again, he shoved the swordsman aside then quickly finished him. Three down. He didn't have the stamina he once did. When did he ever have this stamina? When had he learned to wield a blade? A wave of confusion washed over him and he stumbled, suddenly there was pain in his side, then darkness.
His eyes popped open with a start. He was surrounded by faces staring at him. This all seemed familiar... Reality came crashing back around him, Shalae had been killed, he'd been in a fight, he quickly checked his side, but there was no sign of a wound. Had he dreamt it? He got up and walked to the front room. Shalae's body had been removed but blood still stained the floor. He looked at himself in a mirror, found he was still wearing his leather armor and a sword at his hip. How had he gotten home? How had the fight ended?
It did not matter he decided, checking a window he saw the world was covered in darkness, he had seen the mirrors in the guard's barracks, and he knew which they were. One of the mirrors' had a partner here in his shop. He walked towards his counter his eyes glanced over a finely piece of paper on his counter that hadn't been there before. The edges bore gold and it was sealed with wax and a sigil he did not recognize. He ignored the note and started digging through his piles, he knew exactly where it was, just beneath this pile, third one from the wall... and he had it. He stared at it, looking past his reflection and smiled.
McVurdy drew his sword and stepped into the mirror. He stepped into it as though it were a passageway, and in a sense it was. He did not know how it worked, he asked the God of Chaos to bless his mirrors, make them strong, and fill with luck. He only wanted to prevent his client's needing to clean the mirrors, and save them from ever breaking, but sometimes something else happened. They would link to each other and become passageways. It wasn't a direct portal, one couldn't straddle the threshold, one was pulled in and spent a few moments in an in-between place. The passage happened faster than the blink of an eye, but McVurdy had passed through enough mirrors that he was aware of it, if not familiar.
As quickly as it had begun it ended. He was standing in the barracks of the guards, and as he had guessed the hour was late. Very late. The fire in the hearth had burnt down, three of the remaining guards had passed out drunk at table, but the rest had found their way to bunks. There was no discernable sign of his earlier fight. No bodies on the floor, any blood stains blended into the floor with years of spilt bodily fluids and ale. McVurdy crept through the dorm, approaching the bed nearest the mirror. He examined the sleeping faces one by one and found his target. The guard from his shop slept soundly. He held his sword above the chest of the sleeping guard and hesitated. What was he doing? This seemed such a dishonorable death, dirty and sly. McVurdy shrugged, he was never an honorable man.
The sword came down with a crunch and a grunt. The guards eyes and mouth popped open in shock then his face relaxed and his eyes dimmed. McVurdy went to the next bed, again, he repeated this. Three times he killed guards, one by one moving from bunk to bunk, but then, on the fourth guard his sword did not go cleanly through flesh as he'd hoped, but stopped with a loud clang. The guards eyes popped open and a sword shot forward out of the bunk landing with a crash against McVurdy's sword as he deflected it at the last minute. The guard swung out of the bunk to the side opposite McVurdy and cried out to the rest of the room "Oy, wake up! We've got a visitor!"
Throughout the room came the clamor and commotion of guards suiting up. Four guards remained, two seemed so inebriated they could barely hold a sword, the other two hopped from their beds ready to fight. The guard McVurdy had awoke wore a toothy grin as he moved around the bed to corner him between the bunks his eyes suddenly widened and the grin vanished as he recognition dawned on him. "You! How are you here? What is this witchcraft?" he shouted in surprise, the rest of the guards were congregating around the action with swords drawn, but still looking dazed and confused. McVurdy surveyed his situation, he was stuck between two bunks each perpendicular to the wall and now he was trapped. In this fight he would have a distinct disadvantage, there was no space to swing his sword and nowhere to run. He might be able to fend off the guards for a little while but he would never get the range of motion he required here. Hemust have let this show on his face because the guard's smug grin returned.
The guard lunged with his sword and McVurdy deflected it. Suddenly he realized where he was, his circumnavigation of the bunks had placed him in front of the other mirror. He recognized the mirror as his own work but did not recall to whom he'd sold it or its partner. He did not know where this mirror led or if anywhere. If its partner had been destroyed he might dive face first into a solid pane of glass, or he could enter the mirror and become stuck in the in-between place. His opportunity was slipping away, with each swing and counter each time the guards took a step towards him McVurdy was being herded backwards, the mirror was just at the edge of his reach now.
McVurdy made up his and mind and dove. He heard an abrupt cry of surprise before silence then he tumbled onto the floor. He got up and looked around to see where he was. He'd landed on fine carpets, he was in a large bed chamber with elaborate curtains drawn over the windows. The walls were covered in tapestries, paintings, and shelves with gold and jeweled knickknacks. He would have appreciated the clutter, but it seemed to organized and purposeful for his taste. His eyes stopped on the large bed in the center of the room. There was a silk canopy draped around the posts. He slowly approached the bed and as he got closer he heard the slow steady breath of sleep, his eyes began to adjust to the dim light. As he approached the bed recognition dawned on McVurdy
This is The Emperor! McVurdy thought to himself. A smile spread across his face in spite of himself. He checked his sword, still covered in blood but sharp as ever. He did not hesitate this time, the death of an emperor would bring unending chaos! What a worthy tribute! McVurdy's sword slid quickly and easily into its target, he took no chances and cut the emperor's throat clean through. It was done so quickly the man hadn't even woken, and now he never would. He smiled to himself as he cleaned his blade on the soft bed sheets and returned to the mirror.
As he checked his armor and gathered himself, McVurdy carefully weighed his options. The only thing he knew for sure was he had to leave here, and he would prefer to leave unnoticed, he could return through the mirror, but that could put him back in the predicament he was in before. The only advantage he had was the guards would likely not be expecting him to return, they in all likelihood would have gone searching for him. He finally decided he would dive in head first and see what awaited him.
He rushed through the mirror running as fast as he could. As he emerged from the other side he was greeted by a startled guard who reflexively jumped out of his way. McVurdy took advantage of his dropped guard and ran him through with a sword as he charged into the middle of the room and swung around just in time to meet another blade with his own. There was one other guard in the room, he could not see where the other two had gone. McVurdy recognized them as the guards who had been unable to stand earlier, the one still standing had recovered some of his wits and was running at him with his sword out. McVurdy had no patience for this, he danced with the guard, but quickly realized the man was still moving slowly as a consequence of drink. In a few moments he'd slipped between the man's defenses and ended his life.
McVurdy turned to the first mirror and stepped through to his workshop. He could see first light starting to appear in the window at the door, and as he watched he saw two figures walking towards his shop. These would be the remaining guards from the barracks, McVurdy thought annoyed. Would this night never end? He stepped back from the window and to the counter, standing as though he were counting his earnings. The lead guard heaved his weight against the door, the lock snapped easily and the door flew open. They rampaged through the shop, knocking things over as they worked their way towards him.
"Sorcerous filth!" One of the guards called out as they came to the counter. "I'll bet-" McVurdy casually cut a rope tied to the counter. It held up a large mirror on the ceiling just in front of him and with the rope cut the mirror came crashing down, large enough to slip over both of them it, slammed into the ground hard and fast and the guards were gone. McVurdy walked over to the mirror with his hammer and chisel and hit it just on the seam so that the frame broke apart. There was a low rumble and the mirror vibrated, then silence. The mirror had been broken, no one would return through it.
McVurdy had just finished clearing the pieces of the mirror from the floor when he heard a sound at the doorway. He turned towards the door to find a fat and lavishly dressed foreigner standing in the doorway. The man stopped and inspected the damage to the frame and hinges then turned towards McVurdy. Two squirrely assistants trailed after him holding bags and books.
"Good day." The rich man started as he entered the shop. His eyes never met McVurdy and instead swung around the shop taking everything in, "Would you happen to be the proprietor of this fine establishment?" He asked.
McVurdy watched as the man ran his fingers through some dust on the counter, then waited for the man to make eye contact before he nodded affirmation.
"I left a note yesterday, I had hoped we could discuss purchase of your inventory?" The man had resumed his inspection of the mirrors, pulling mirrors forward. McVurdy just stared at him questioningly. "I only mean that… I am looking to expand my businesses to this town and… You have quite the inventory here. It would please me greatly to distribute your mirrors throughout the land and then perhaps use this space for a greater… variety of goods."
McVurdy nodded, this was great, now was a good time to move on anyways. There was nothing left for him here.
"Great!" the merchant beamed, "You!" he pointed at one of his men, "Draw up the papers at once!" The assistant began fumbling through papers and bags in a general panic. The merchant turned back to McVurdy, "Did you hear? The Emperor was assassinated last night, they say Juverians were responsible, just slipped in and out of the royal palace completely unnoticed!" McVurdy tried to look shocked. "They say it will be all out war before the next turning of the moon!" McVurdy nodded gravely but inside he smiled. Yes, he had created chaos and now it was time to leave this place.
For all the clutter and disarray in the front room, the back was even worse. There was no organization here, only impulse and gut feeling. Every day he picked up and dropped projects on a whim and left them where they lay. Dozens of half-finished mirrors and their frames only partially affixed lay on the floor and propped against the wall. He walked to his bench. There were two large mirrors propped against the wall facing him at an angle. They had been set here to be framed. McVurdy looked at his face in the mirrors, straddling both mirrors so he was split in the middle. He closed his eyes and said a prayer to Maelstrom, The God of Chaos. Nobody worshipped chaos anymore. The prayers were all forgotten but McVurdy remembered. How long had it been since the last temple had burned? Longer than anyone living remembered. As he finished his prayer he opened his eyes in time to see the mirrors quiver in response to the ancient blessing.
"Grandfather!" a woman's voice gave him a start. He turned in time to see Shalae enter the room. She was a heavyset middle-aged woman, to most people she seemed gruff and heartless but to family she was warm and caring. She could be harsh with her words but her intent was for one's best interest. McVurdy was not her grandfather, he was her great, great, great, great... He'd lost count. Grandfather would do. "What are you doing here so early? Did you go home last night?" She began to interrogate him. "You know you shouldn't sleep in that old chair. You have a perfectly comfortable feather bed at home!" McVurdy stopped listening. His life was coming back to him. Like the fog burning off in the morning's first light, he could see his past, he knew who he was, but something was still missing. Something was still off, the same thing that had been wrong his whole life, what was it?
"Are you even listening?" She broke into his thoughts.
"Yes, yes, of course! I just woke with the sun and came in early" McVurdy lied. "Sleep evades me in the early hours and I find it's useless to fight it." She nodded knowingly.
"Well, we've a big day today! That merchant from down south is coming by to pick up his wares and it simply won't do to have you lazing about!" The last she said with a wink and a smile
Just then they turn their heads to the front of a shop at a loud thumping and shouting. McVurdy and Shalae both hurry to the front and find a large gruff looking town guard steaming and fuming. He had thrown a mirror on the ground but it was unbroken and was now staring at it in disbelief, muttering to himself about sorcery. The frame was made from gold and steel, interwoven like beautiful and elegant tree branches. McVurdy remembered this mirror, he'd sold it last month, why was it back in his shop?
"Where's my wife!" bellowed the guard, he was wavering on his feet and McVurdy could smell alcohol from across the room.
"Not here sir." Shalae replied as she calmly walked towards him. "You seem to have lost your way, perhaps I should take you home?" She reached towards his shoulder to begin walking him towards the door but he quickly jerked back and rounded on her.
"That's where I come from and she disappeared!" he bellowed at her.
Shalae stepped back and crossed her hands in front of her, "well, I can assure you she isn't..."
"Would you shut up!" the guard interrupted her, "She disappeared into this Gods-be-damned mirror you sold her!" His face was turning red, he seemed to be teetering somewhere between rage and desperation, McVurdy knew that this was a tipping point in the man's life, this emotional state could result in a man making decisions that would plague him until the end of his days. "She was brushing her hair and turned to walk away when her foot got caught on the ground and she fell into the mirror and..." He looked on the verge of tears. He was breathing quickly and heavily, maybe this would pass? He took a deep breath and rallied himself, rounding on McVurdy now, pointing at the mirror on the ground. "She fell into that mirror and was gone! It's unnatural! You're a conjurer! You will answer for your crimes!"
Shalae stepped between McVurdy and the guard "Now I say! There has been a great misunderstanding here, and we will get to the bottom of it". The guard's eyes never left McVurdy's face, his courage seemed to waver.
"Perhaps you should follow her into the mirror?" McVurdy realized it as the first he'd spoken since the incident had begun.
The man's face softened and his temper seemed to cool, then there was a jerk, the familiar sound of a blade penetrating flesh, and Shalae falling to the ground. The soldier's face twisted into a grin as he watched McVurdy scramble to her aid, only too late, the light was already leaving Shalae's eyes. The guard began wiping the blood off his knife and turned toward McVurdy when suddenly he heard clattering in the back of the store. The murderer said "I'll be back old man, I'll be back with The Emperor's justice, you're filth will not be allowed to roam this world anymore!" and he left. Just as the front door closed the rear one opened.
"My Gods!" came a woman's voice. McVurdy didn't look up to see who it was, he was too numb to care, too shocked to react. He stood, disconnectedly he noted the front of his clothes were soaked in blood. "McVurdy sir! What's happened?" She was tugging at his sleeve, he dully registered her as one of the neighborhood children that Shalae would feed and teach. She saw her then, laying on the floor and fell to her knees, crying.
McVurdy strode to the front of his store, staring at nothing in general, he anger swelled in him filled his being with fire. He was no warlock or conjurer, he was just an old man who made mirrors. He'd been making mirrors since... How long he could not remember, but he had done it as long as he could remember and he was sure longer than that. So what if the gods sometimes answered his prayers and made the mirrors something more? That was not his doing!
Then it dawned on him, he had been living a simple and orderly life for far too long. The Gods were punishing him for his lack of disorder. Servants of chaos should never be so comfortable, so harmonious! He had failed his God and was being punished! He would continue to be punished until he threw his life and world into complete disarray, he must make a tribute!
McVurdy studied his face in the mirror, watching as his long dull eyes became clear and filled with determination. He stood taller and it seemed to him his wrinkles even receded and his muscles swelled. He was angry, and that petulant fool would pay for his crime. He turned toward the back of the store, the little girl was staring at him with something between awe and terror, he ignored her and went to the back room. It took him a while to find what he was looking for, but find it he did. Shalae had managed the finances for the store for the last several decades so she had been storing the coin in a large chest under the floor. When he found the trapdoor he opened it and was not surprised at what he saw. McVurdy had lived a long and modest life and mirrors sell well. By the measure of any other man he'd accrued a kingly wealth, but to him it didn't matter, it was the craft that motivated him. Today he would spend money though, he grabbed a handful of coins and stormed out of the room.
He ran straight out to buy a sword and leather armor. The shopkeeper asked no questions and gave him what he needed. It was all the same to McVurdy, he just needed an instrument of death. By the time the shop door was closed behind him McVurdy's vision was swimming with red. He donned his new leather and strapped the sword to his side right there in the street. Passersby gave him a wide berth and eyed him cautiously. Once he was prepared he headed straight for the barracks where he knew many of the on duty guard would congregate while off duty.
Sure enough as he came around the corner he heard the raucous of laughter and drunkenness. In McVurdy's heightened state he picked out the voice of his quarry. It mattered not, they would all die tonight.
McVurdy kicked hard and the door fell away like paper before him, the guards all stopped in their revelry and looked up. He spotted the murderer in the corner. "Boys, look what the fates have brought us! It's the sorcerer mirror maker, get him!" and suddenly the men were all on their feet. The walls echoed with the sound of swords unsheathing. Some of the men stumbled, some wavered, but others were sober. They all came towards McVurdy slowly with determination. There were ten, and they didn't want a fight. How did he know that? He hadn't counted, and had he ever been in a fight, had he? It did not matter, he felt no fear.
He glanced around the room and took it all in. It was a simple dorm, one room, a table and some basic kitchen necessities at the back and the walls lined with bunks each jutting into the room. Everything was old and abused. He glanced at the walls, taking in hooks and armor strewn about and he saw two mirrors, both were fairly large and in another time and place may have seemed out of place, but there was only one mirror maker in town and McVurdy did not make small mirrors. He took a breath shut his eyes and said a prayer to chaos readying himself for a fight. When he opened his eyes again it was just in time to see one of the guards lunge at him. McVurdy parried the attack and quickly swung around to the next sword. Swing, dodge, thrust, block, their swords clanged, he lost himself in the fight, minutes or hours passed, he wasn't sure. First one guard went down, then another. Sweat was starting to gather on his brow, he needed to take a breath, step back from the fight and gather himself, but there were still eight guards, and they weren't giving him a break.
"The old man fights well, but he tires easily!" one of the guards laughed. McVurdy's vision was starting to blur, he couldn't tell which had spoken. Clang, steel met steel again, he shoved the swordsman aside then quickly finished him. Three down. He didn't have the stamina he once did. When did he ever have this stamina? When had he learned to wield a blade? A wave of confusion washed over him and he stumbled, suddenly there was pain in his side, then darkness.
His eyes popped open with a start. He was surrounded by faces staring at him. This all seemed familiar... Reality came crashing back around him, Shalae had been killed, he'd been in a fight, he quickly checked his side, but there was no sign of a wound. Had he dreamt it? He got up and walked to the front room. Shalae's body had been removed but blood still stained the floor. He looked at himself in a mirror, found he was still wearing his leather armor and a sword at his hip. How had he gotten home? How had the fight ended?
It did not matter he decided, checking a window he saw the world was covered in darkness, he had seen the mirrors in the guard's barracks, and he knew which they were. One of the mirrors' had a partner here in his shop. He walked towards his counter his eyes glanced over a finely piece of paper on his counter that hadn't been there before. The edges bore gold and it was sealed with wax and a sigil he did not recognize. He ignored the note and started digging through his piles, he knew exactly where it was, just beneath this pile, third one from the wall... and he had it. He stared at it, looking past his reflection and smiled.
McVurdy drew his sword and stepped into the mirror. He stepped into it as though it were a passageway, and in a sense it was. He did not know how it worked, he asked the God of Chaos to bless his mirrors, make them strong, and fill with luck. He only wanted to prevent his client's needing to clean the mirrors, and save them from ever breaking, but sometimes something else happened. They would link to each other and become passageways. It wasn't a direct portal, one couldn't straddle the threshold, one was pulled in and spent a few moments in an in-between place. The passage happened faster than the blink of an eye, but McVurdy had passed through enough mirrors that he was aware of it, if not familiar.
As quickly as it had begun it ended. He was standing in the barracks of the guards, and as he had guessed the hour was late. Very late. The fire in the hearth had burnt down, three of the remaining guards had passed out drunk at table, but the rest had found their way to bunks. There was no discernable sign of his earlier fight. No bodies on the floor, any blood stains blended into the floor with years of spilt bodily fluids and ale. McVurdy crept through the dorm, approaching the bed nearest the mirror. He examined the sleeping faces one by one and found his target. The guard from his shop slept soundly. He held his sword above the chest of the sleeping guard and hesitated. What was he doing? This seemed such a dishonorable death, dirty and sly. McVurdy shrugged, he was never an honorable man.
The sword came down with a crunch and a grunt. The guards eyes and mouth popped open in shock then his face relaxed and his eyes dimmed. McVurdy went to the next bed, again, he repeated this. Three times he killed guards, one by one moving from bunk to bunk, but then, on the fourth guard his sword did not go cleanly through flesh as he'd hoped, but stopped with a loud clang. The guards eyes popped open and a sword shot forward out of the bunk landing with a crash against McVurdy's sword as he deflected it at the last minute. The guard swung out of the bunk to the side opposite McVurdy and cried out to the rest of the room "Oy, wake up! We've got a visitor!"
Throughout the room came the clamor and commotion of guards suiting up. Four guards remained, two seemed so inebriated they could barely hold a sword, the other two hopped from their beds ready to fight. The guard McVurdy had awoke wore a toothy grin as he moved around the bed to corner him between the bunks his eyes suddenly widened and the grin vanished as he recognition dawned on him. "You! How are you here? What is this witchcraft?" he shouted in surprise, the rest of the guards were congregating around the action with swords drawn, but still looking dazed and confused. McVurdy surveyed his situation, he was stuck between two bunks each perpendicular to the wall and now he was trapped. In this fight he would have a distinct disadvantage, there was no space to swing his sword and nowhere to run. He might be able to fend off the guards for a little while but he would never get the range of motion he required here. Hemust have let this show on his face because the guard's smug grin returned.
The guard lunged with his sword and McVurdy deflected it. Suddenly he realized where he was, his circumnavigation of the bunks had placed him in front of the other mirror. He recognized the mirror as his own work but did not recall to whom he'd sold it or its partner. He did not know where this mirror led or if anywhere. If its partner had been destroyed he might dive face first into a solid pane of glass, or he could enter the mirror and become stuck in the in-between place. His opportunity was slipping away, with each swing and counter each time the guards took a step towards him McVurdy was being herded backwards, the mirror was just at the edge of his reach now.
McVurdy made up his and mind and dove. He heard an abrupt cry of surprise before silence then he tumbled onto the floor. He got up and looked around to see where he was. He'd landed on fine carpets, he was in a large bed chamber with elaborate curtains drawn over the windows. The walls were covered in tapestries, paintings, and shelves with gold and jeweled knickknacks. He would have appreciated the clutter, but it seemed to organized and purposeful for his taste. His eyes stopped on the large bed in the center of the room. There was a silk canopy draped around the posts. He slowly approached the bed and as he got closer he heard the slow steady breath of sleep, his eyes began to adjust to the dim light. As he approached the bed recognition dawned on McVurdy
This is The Emperor! McVurdy thought to himself. A smile spread across his face in spite of himself. He checked his sword, still covered in blood but sharp as ever. He did not hesitate this time, the death of an emperor would bring unending chaos! What a worthy tribute! McVurdy's sword slid quickly and easily into its target, he took no chances and cut the emperor's throat clean through. It was done so quickly the man hadn't even woken, and now he never would. He smiled to himself as he cleaned his blade on the soft bed sheets and returned to the mirror.
As he checked his armor and gathered himself, McVurdy carefully weighed his options. The only thing he knew for sure was he had to leave here, and he would prefer to leave unnoticed, he could return through the mirror, but that could put him back in the predicament he was in before. The only advantage he had was the guards would likely not be expecting him to return, they in all likelihood would have gone searching for him. He finally decided he would dive in head first and see what awaited him.
He rushed through the mirror running as fast as he could. As he emerged from the other side he was greeted by a startled guard who reflexively jumped out of his way. McVurdy took advantage of his dropped guard and ran him through with a sword as he charged into the middle of the room and swung around just in time to meet another blade with his own. There was one other guard in the room, he could not see where the other two had gone. McVurdy recognized them as the guards who had been unable to stand earlier, the one still standing had recovered some of his wits and was running at him with his sword out. McVurdy had no patience for this, he danced with the guard, but quickly realized the man was still moving slowly as a consequence of drink. In a few moments he'd slipped between the man's defenses and ended his life.
McVurdy turned to the first mirror and stepped through to his workshop. He could see first light starting to appear in the window at the door, and as he watched he saw two figures walking towards his shop. These would be the remaining guards from the barracks, McVurdy thought annoyed. Would this night never end? He stepped back from the window and to the counter, standing as though he were counting his earnings. The lead guard heaved his weight against the door, the lock snapped easily and the door flew open. They rampaged through the shop, knocking things over as they worked their way towards him.
"Sorcerous filth!" One of the guards called out as they came to the counter. "I'll bet-" McVurdy casually cut a rope tied to the counter. It held up a large mirror on the ceiling just in front of him and with the rope cut the mirror came crashing down, large enough to slip over both of them it, slammed into the ground hard and fast and the guards were gone. McVurdy walked over to the mirror with his hammer and chisel and hit it just on the seam so that the frame broke apart. There was a low rumble and the mirror vibrated, then silence. The mirror had been broken, no one would return through it.
McVurdy had just finished clearing the pieces of the mirror from the floor when he heard a sound at the doorway. He turned towards the door to find a fat and lavishly dressed foreigner standing in the doorway. The man stopped and inspected the damage to the frame and hinges then turned towards McVurdy. Two squirrely assistants trailed after him holding bags and books.
"Good day." The rich man started as he entered the shop. His eyes never met McVurdy and instead swung around the shop taking everything in, "Would you happen to be the proprietor of this fine establishment?" He asked.
McVurdy watched as the man ran his fingers through some dust on the counter, then waited for the man to make eye contact before he nodded affirmation.
"I left a note yesterday, I had hoped we could discuss purchase of your inventory?" The man had resumed his inspection of the mirrors, pulling mirrors forward. McVurdy just stared at him questioningly. "I only mean that… I am looking to expand my businesses to this town and… You have quite the inventory here. It would please me greatly to distribute your mirrors throughout the land and then perhaps use this space for a greater… variety of goods."
McVurdy nodded, this was great, now was a good time to move on anyways. There was nothing left for him here.
"Great!" the merchant beamed, "You!" he pointed at one of his men, "Draw up the papers at once!" The assistant began fumbling through papers and bags in a general panic. The merchant turned back to McVurdy, "Did you hear? The Emperor was assassinated last night, they say Juverians were responsible, just slipped in and out of the royal palace completely unnoticed!" McVurdy tried to look shocked. "They say it will be all out war before the next turning of the moon!" McVurdy nodded gravely but inside he smiled. Yes, he had created chaos and now it was time to leave this place.
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