The Past

The Mirror

The only thing I could see in my firelight was the stone wall that surrounded us. Several days had passed, by that point, and we were all refreshed and prepared to finish our journey. The Mirror was here, I knew, for we could all sense its power pulsing from deep within the cavern, a thousand years' worth of unused magic simply waiting to be unleashed.

I thought of little Th'alane as we slowly delved deeper, wondering if retrieving the Mirror would truly harm his kind. I hoped it would not.

"How shall we bring it back to Orion?" I asked, to neither of them in particular.

"I sense a river deep within this cavern, that leads out the side of the mountain," Remor muttered. "I will summon a boat to carry it out."

It was eerie, knowing how Remor could summon shipwrecks that he himself had caused. He had thousands of dead sailors at his disposal, directly from his father's Realm.

When I looked at him then, I no longer saw the boyish prince I first met. In front of me stood a god, one who was proud, tall, and terrifying.

I glanced over at Athern, only to see he was staring back, with a jealousy in his eyes that I never would have expected from him. I made a motion to take his hand, but he pulled it away.

Our slow trek continued in silence.

Hours later, a faint light from the other end of the tunnel told me we had arrived. Sheer magic filled the air, as palpable as a summer breeze, filling my lungs and heart. My small flame grew and brightened, fuelled by the very magic I now hoped to tame.

My ears tuned in as I heard a gentle stream of water running nearby, echoing off the cavern walls.

"Is it truly all that special?"

"It doesn't look much different from any ordinary mirror," Athern admitted to me, "but after not being used for this long, I'm certain its magic is like none other."

In front of us was a slight opening in the stone, and beyond it, a deep crevice through which a river ran at the bottom.

The Mirror sat quietly on the riverbank.

"Hold onto me." Remor had just wrapped either arm around myself and Athern. Gently, he lowered us off the ledge and down to the riverbank.

"This is it."

Just in front of me was the Mirror, a tall, arched silver frame holding a pool of raw magic, which shimmered brightly, reflecting a light that did not exist in the cavern. 

"How in the Realms are we to move this thing?" I turned to Remor and Athern, who were not nearly as awestruck as I.

Remor looked down and muttered a few words, conjuring a boat on the riverbank. "By lifting it with air."

"You can both handle that, and I'll wait on the boat." Athern looked dead into Remor's eyes as they exchanged a brief nod. An invisible breeze pushed the boat away as soon as Athern stepped on it.

"Why did you do that?" I stared after Athern, going downstream. "How are we meant to move it now?"

"We aren't. Kinheal, I find myself pained by you, for I grew to love you greatly."

"Remor-" Remor turned his back towards me, staring into the Mirror.  "Why would you leave?"

"You were my only reason for staying, Kinheal." I placed myself in front of him, then could see the tears as they built up in his eyes. "You were everything."

"You were mine, too. We changed." I glanced at Athern, standing on our small boat, now far away. "I'm afraid that Zalta needs wolves much more than a storm."

"Perhaps." Then, the prince whom I had grown to love was gone, and I had to carry the Mirror and the burden on my own.