The Knight's Eyes

21: WHITE GLOVES

ALSIN'S POV

Stealthily, he approached the abomination. Tiny shivers slithered up his arms and his fingers sweated as they gripped the sheet.

"You can do this," he muttered. "It has to be done."

He came beside the wall-size mirror sitting ever so nice in front of his new bed. From his angle, he could see the room's reflection and his throat clotted. He turned away and gagged.

He gulped the clear air and sighed, "Come on you coward. It's just a damn mirror. What more can it do to ya?"

Galiathan's voice echoed in his head, It's your frailty, mirrors. Be wise, use your eyes. Training. Practice. Control.

"Can this even be controlled? Nonsense," Alsin said staring at the dining table. His stomach growled in response.

He returned his attention on what needed to be done. The short dresser adjoined to the mirror was clear and ready for the contents in which Alsin did not have. He eased his way to the mirror's side keeping his dry green eyes at the dresser's flat surface.

What if he did look at his face? He only glimpsed at it in the washroom to make sure he had ridden all the dried blood. Blood, the very word and thought of it assured him that he would indeed vomit if he stole a look. Curse his father and Walta for not helping him through this ridiculous fear.

Keeping his eyes averted he climbed onto the dresser and tucked one side of the sheet into the mirror's corner. Then carefully to not fall or drop the sheet or accidentally look at himself, he slid to the other end and tucked the sheet. He sighed and double-checked each section before climbing down.

He placed his hands on his waist and nodded his approval, "Great job, Alsindad. You did it. Now let's go and explore."

For hours now he's been struggling between two decisions. Bunker down for the night and wait until tomorrow to scope out the castle or do it now. Plus, he still had to figure out a plan on how to kill the witch. Maybe act scared and nice and cooperate to the lizard's demands, which left him gagging and shaking his head, or act a fool and hope to never get clawed down. He hated both plans. He was not great at acting. He was a knight for bloody sakes.

He tugged on his white button down shirt that he'd found earlier in one of the drawers and approached the chest at the foot of the bed. He took the small lantern by its handle and the chair leg he had pulled free from its body. He unlocked the door. It creaked as he made enough space to stick out his head.

No one scaled the third floor hall, yet all of the wall candles were lit. He studied the staircase and swallowed. With ease he slid out the room and took light steps to the stairway. Sweat beaded his face as he came shy to the rail and peered up onto the smaller balcony of the fourth floor. He could hear nothing except the wind outside.

The lizard had said the witch lived on the fourth floor, but he convinced himself to leave it for last. He made his way onto the second floor unfortunately unlit. Alsin waved his lantern in the air counting the doors; eight bedroom doors, two pairs of double doors, and three dark hallways leading somewhere into the rest of the castle.

He held his breath and took one single glance over the rail to the foyer below. No one was around, but he knew the wraiths were close. Probably watching him with great interest at his stupidity to leave the protection of his room. He could care less. If he was going to live in this wicked castle then he had the right to become acquainted with it.

Alsin took confident steps to one of the double doors sitting in front of the ascending staircase. He gripped one of the handles designed in twisted vines and gave a slight nudge. Both doors groaned, but did not budge. He raised his lantern and words glowed back at him.