The bed was rather welcome after the long trudge through the snow. It was surprisingly comfortable ... almost as comfortable as the bed she had while staying at Castle December, in fact. Sleep came quickly for the pair ... and for a change it seems like morning didn't come before it was welcome. But, the problem with caves is, it's hard to tell when it is morning. By the time Redmane's eyes crack open, the oven has only a few embers still burning in it dimly. The second thing she notices immediately ... she's alone in the bed. Thomas is nowhere to be seen.
"Evil sure has nice furniture," Redmane mutters as she rouses. She dresses quickly, and heads out to look for Thomas. "Maybe he's found an opulent bathroom with gold-plated plumbing," she muses.
The hallway is dark and cool, just as she remembers. The place is also silent as a tomb; the only sound the occasional drip of water into a supposedly nearby pool. There are only two ways to go, back out to the entrance, or deeper into the cave.
Figuring she'd find an explorer by exploring, Redmane heads deeper into the cave. "Thomas?" she calls out.
The only answer is the drip of water. It grows louder as she goes deeper. Ahead are two doors. One straight ahead where the passage seems to end. The other directly to its right in the wall.
"That man is entirely too practiced at sneaking out of bed without rousing the other person," the knight mutters, and checks to see if the door to the side is locked.
It is fortunately not locked. Though the handle is stiff, it gives way with a scraping sound of tarnished metal breaking free.
Putting her shoulder to it, Redmane tries to open the door. Well, he probably hasn't been in here if the handle was jammed, she reasons. But getting into the room before him will probably peeve the Explorer anyway.
The door scrapes, then suddenly gives way, sending Redmane stumbling into the room. The rug that was apparently on the floor slips out from under her and the knight quickly finds herself face down on the floor. thud
"I hate mornings," the woman grumbles, and pulls back from the rug to look around her.
As Redmane sits up, she finds herself staring ... at herself? A few feet in front of her is an ornate mirror. Not only does it take up nearly the entire back wall ... there isn't a speck of dust on it.
"Okay," Redmane says, getting to her feet and brushing herself down. "I doubt the beast used this," she notes, and looks over the mirror frame. "Must be a magic mirror."
The frame is carved wood; primarily stylized curing and arcing. There is no recognizable animal patterns or any sort of pictograms augmenting it. The surface of the mirror itself seems ... odd. As Redmane passes before it, it ripples a bit ... almost like water. It could also just be a trick of the light.
Drawing her silver sword, the knight uses it to see if the mirror surface is solid or some sort of doorway.
Redmane's own imagine ripples, then its hand reaches out and grabs onto the blade of the silver sword firmly moments before the tip would have contacted the surface. Its grip is ... incredibly strong. Redmane can neither thrust it further forward or draw it back. The image's pale green eyes sparkle as her lips draw back into a rather cold smile ... and she steps out of the mirror. "We always stab what we don't understand, don't we? Haven't quite left behind the old habits just yet," she says in Redmane's own voice as well.
"Uh," Redmane says, letting go of the sword and drawing Morrighan. "Magic. Great," she laments, and takes a swing at the mirror-version of herself.
Mirror-Redmane peers at the silver sword for a moment. "And there, you always return to your legacy," she says calmly, then gestures towards Redmane's steel sword. "You still know in your heart you want to be the monster, don't you? And why should you deny it? It is what you are. You should embrace it. Revel in its power. You so wish freedom ... and that is the only true freedom you can ever have."
"So, you're evil then," Redmane comments. "The tempting me to give in to my dark side stuff is a dead giveaway, you know. Well.. the stepping out of the mirror was too, but the speech just confirms it." She gives her steel sword a twirl, and then grins. "I'd rather be happy than 'free' at this point. Going to defend yourself, or do anything magical or whatever?"
"I know everything about you, Rhudehain. Do you really believe you can find happiness with the fey? They won't accept you. You've seen that much," The mirror image comments, sounding a bit bored, really. Shrugging, she tosses the silver sword to the floor where it clatters and goes sliding. "And if you think you can hurt me with that, well .. you still obviously have a giant's intellect. I came here offering you true acceptance ... but no, you want to play the hero. But the joke in that is you will never be their hero."
"Don't lecture on me on my fate," Redmane growls. "You aren't my goddess! Once I've atoned for my sins, I'll be free to be happy. That's when I'll find my acceptance."
The mirror image laughs as she shakes her head. "You are so deluded, child," she says, voice tinged with pity as she waves towards the way Redmane came from, "But then, I suppose that is to be expected since you associate with that fey. He can be quite the charmer, can't he?" The mirror image ripples and blurs ... and within moments, Redmane now faces a grinning image of Thomas ... though something looks different. It's hard to pinpoint what, though. And now in his voice, he says, "How much do you really know about him? How much true honesty do you think he offers you?"
"As much as any man," Redmane replies, and studies the clone to see if it is a mirror image of Thomas. It's hard to tell because he never combs his hair.
The image might look a bit less weathered and more filled out, as if having not spent so much time living off the lands. "Really? You think so?" he asks, spreading his arms out. The mirror behind him flares to life, images of landscapes blurring and shifting behind him. It settles on the remains of a village, burning under a blood-red sky. Its a scene Redmane recognizes well. A battle recently ended. The scene twists and Redmane sees Thomas standing over the dead body of a young black-haired woman. In his right hand is a bloody silver sword. "Not much of a hero, now is he? Killing a defenseless woman?" the image taunts. "I could offer you far more honesty and acceptance."
"I've killed plenty of innocents too, and he doesn't hold it against me," Redmane points out. "He doesn't look like he's enjoying it. Besides, that image could be completely fake. I don't trust magic."
"The fey are magic. Do not delude yourself otherwise," the image notes. The mirror behind it goes dark. "They will betray you and they will abandon you. I am offering a chance to escape the pain before it ever comes. Join me and I can promise you that you will never feel pain again," he asks and extends a hand towards Redmane. There's a friendly smile on 'Thomas' face; one she has seen many times.
"Only the dead feel no pain," Redmane points out, and steps back. "Is this how you got the beast? I assure you, it felt plenty of pain."
"The beast was a pawn. A toy for amusement. You are far more promising," the image of Thomas claims as it steps towards her, that hand still extended. "Come, take my hand and join me. I will show you the truth about the fey. And I will show you acceptance."
"You know, Thomas and the other fey may be cool to me at times, but they never promised anything else," the knight points out, hefting her sword. "You make a lot of promises. And you're only offering me the acceptance of a monster, since that what you see in me that's promising, now isn't it?"
"It is what you are. You are foolish in denying it," the image states calmly and continues towards Redmane. "You will never find happiness until you accept that."
"I lived for centuries like that, and I wasn't very happy," Redmane replies, and steps back into the doorway. She's not sure just how far from the mirror the image can get. "And I may be foolish, but I'm still right. You haven't offered me anything at all, Man In The Mirror. And as for honesty... you haven't even told me your name yet."
"You will come to know me in the end," the figure says, expression darkening as his features run until all Redmane can see is a shadowy, emaciated mass. "I offered you a chance and you threw it away. Very well, you will die with them. And I promise you this. I will take away everything you hold dear. One by one.. And in the end, I will take you. I will show you true hopelessness; you will die slowly and alone." It lifts its hand and the silver sword it discarded leaps from the floor and comes to rest in his shadowy claws. "Don't forget your toys," the creature adds, then throws it blade first at Redmane!
The knight swings her own blade up to block while ducking down.
The silver blade deflects harmlessly away. And when Redmane looks back towards the shadow ... it is gone. All that remains before her is the mirror in the far wall and her reflection.
"Evil never rests, or else it gets up awfully early," Redmane sighs. She stands up and recovers her other sword (after checking the handle for evil goo) and returns to the hall. "Thomas!" she calls out. "You'd better be making me breakfast!"
The sword is clean. In fact, there's no sign of whatever that way anywhere. There's still no answer for a bit ... then there's a faint, "What?"
"Where are you?" Redmane yells, and turns towards the last door, in case the voice is coming from behind it.
"Back in the bedroom? I had to go catch something for food. You needed the sleep so I went out alone," Thomas calls back. "What are you doing?"
"Talking to myself," Redmane notes, and heads back to the bedroom. "I think we're on the right track. Some unnameable evil just tried to recruit me through a magic mirror. You've gotta try it!"
"I think you found some bad wine," Thomas comments as he gives Redmane a rather peculiar look. "Though, you don't smell drunk..."
"I still smell like you, probably," Redmane notes, and checks to see what Thomas caught for breakfast. "And the mirror is still there. Might be working or not now."
There's a small stew pot boiling on a recently relit stove. It smells like a weak rabbit stew. "Are you sure you weren't just ... seeing things in the dark?" he asks, just to be sure as he wipes his hands on his parts. There are some dark red stains on them now; probably from having to skin a small animal.
on his pants...
"Yeah, and my hallucination threw my sword at me too," Redmane notes, arching an eyebrow. "I know you think well of yourself, Thomas, but I doubt sleeping with you can cause women to hallucinate."
"You never know," Thomas quips, grinning. "So, is the mirror important enough to show me before, or after, food?"
"Depends," Redmane notes. "How long do you think it would take for an evil wizard to send a monster here to attack us?"
"A bit. Besides, I hate fighting on an empty stomach," Thomas comments as he ladles out some of the meager stew into two worn bowls. "And if the monster shows up before we finish, well, nothing is as entertaining as a food fight."
"I can think of other things more entertaining," Redmane says, but sits down and accepts a bowl.
"Pillow fights. Mud wrestling, maybe," Thomas offers, then eats. He doesn't sit, however, but seems to prefer to eat while pacing back and forth in the room.
"You can't wrestle mud," Redmane points out, pointing her spoon at Thomas.
"You wrestle in mud. It makes things all slippery and ... well, you'd have to be there," Thomas notes. His brow arches a bit as he peers at the spoon, then actually asks, "Did we not spoon enough last night?"
"Hmmph," Redmane says. "This stew isn't bad. What's next? Can you trace magic or anything?"
"Eh, not really. Not outside of possibly recognizing the general origins of the creator. Every house and culture tends to have a style," Thomas explains as he twirls his spoon for emphasis. "You need a wizard to track a wizard, so to speak. And the only wizard I know is actually a Sorceress and frankly, I wouldn't ask her the time of day."
"Well, see what you can tell from the thing in the other room," Redmane says.
"Well, if it's a mirror I suspect I'll see myself," Thomas comments as he now sets his bowl down, "That's what one usually sees in mirrors." Now grinning hugely, Thomas disappears out the doorway.
"I hope he sees something horrible now," Redmane mutters, and finishes her stew before going to see what happens
"Aie!" Thomas calls out from down the hall and presumably in that room. "It's terrible! It's horrible! Boy, do I need a bath."
"It's not working, is it?" Redmane asks. "I mean... it's working as a mirror but not a magic thing."
Thomas stands in front of the huge mirror. All it currently casts is his own disheveled reflection. "It's being rather mirror ... y, but that's about it," he notes. "The make is fey. I can tell you that much. It is also very old. But ... it bears no style marks of any House I know."
Redmane comes up behind Thomas, and makes sure the mirror still reflects her as well.
Sure enough, she still reflects as well. It strikes her how odd a pair they seem to make. "So, some great evil cam through this? It was likely a displaced glamour," he continues. "It would be foolish for anyone to actually expose themselves to real danger."
"It was solid enough to grab things," Redmane notes. "So, smash it?"
"Powerful glamours can still move solid objects. One who can do that, though, is rare, indeed," Thomas comments as he reaches out and places his hand on the mirror. A disturbing hum follows the contact in moments.
"Tell me you're making that humming noise yourself," Redmane requests.
"Ah ... no," Thomas notes and when he tries to pull his hand from the mirror ... it won't move. The images in the mirror swirl and twist into chaos. Scenes of places and people flash past in a blur. The speed of it implies as if it was replaying someone's entire life in seconds ... and a very long life it must have been given the speed of the images. As the hum grows louder, the images slow. The then the mirror freezes on a moment.
The central court of Mirari is recognizable ... as are the banners of all the houses and the apparent lords and ladies sitting around the large room. In the center of the room is ... Thomas? Not the Thomas that stands with Redmane now, but one in actual formal garb, looking for the first time like an actual Lord. Upon his head rests a worn, green, beret with a pin of a hawk attached to it. There is an odd mixture of emotions in the Lord Explorer's face. Anger, surprise, even disbelief. And the reason becomes evident enough ... many of the lords and ladies are pointing and laughing. The ones that are not are just looking upon him with ... pity?" As the mirror-Thomas' expression shifts to one of pure anger, the mirror cracks, spiderwebbing out from where his hand rests. Whatever the image was, it is now fragmented into thousands of smaller images ... and then there is a great shudder in the glass and it falls into a heap at their feet.
"Hmmm, it showed me a scene too," Redmane notes. "Was that from your past?"
"No. I didn't recognize that last part. So, it was likely an illusion to just ... unnerve me," Thomas states as he draws his hand back and flexes his fingers. "So, you saw a scene of your own life?"
"Nope," Redmane notes. "Supposedly one from yours, but it looked like it was taken from mind."
"Mine?" Thomas asks, eyes narrowed. "Well, I wouldn't trust anything this sort of magic might show." His attention turns to the pile of glass on the floor before he asks, "What was it?"
"You were... feeding kittens or something," Redmane notes, waving a hand. "But I guess this thing is dead now, right?"
"As much as an inanimate object can die, yes," Thomas comments as he nudges the broken glass with the toe of his boot. "You're also a terrible liar," he adds, "But I appreciate that you don't want to tell me what you saw."
"So we can't trace this, other than saying it's old?" Redmane notes.
"Not without taking it to another user of magic. And even then, it isn't a huge chance," Thomas comments as he crouches down and does take a few bits of broken glass that he tucks away into a pouch.
"The Royal Court must have a mage, right?" Redmane asks.
"Usually. Do you really want to get the nobles involved with this?" Thomas asks as he stands back up. "If they suspect you have been around darker magic, well, they might insist on examining you."
"It's my duty to report this," Redmane notes.
"Knights," Thomas mutters and shakes his head. "One day I will have to teach you the art of selective reporting."
The woman just sighs. "It doesn't work that way, Thomas. Knights have to be completely trustworthy!" she explains.
"Just remember that those you are reporting to aren't completely trustworthy," Thomas points out.
"That isn't something I can control," Redmane notes.
"I can see you're going to benefit a lot from me looking out for you, then. The world isn't as black and white as you might want it to be," Thomas adds as he heads towards the door. "But, if you won't take care to protect yourself, well ... I'll do what I can."
"Thank you," Redmane says without a trace of irony. "I didn't know you were so.. chivalrous!"
"Ugh. Don't ever call me that. Now I feel dirty!" Thomas complains as he opens the door at the end of the hall. "Ah, right, the docks are through here. The waterway just leads back to the wolves."
"What about the other direction?" the knight asks.
"Deeper into old dwarven ruins," Thomas comments. "Dangerous place."
"Uh-huh," Redmane says, giving Thomas a look. "We wouldn't want to go anyplace dangerous, after all. But at some point we'll need to look in to it."
"No, sorry. Not the place for a proper knight. Too much temptation and peril. Best leave it to the Hawks," Thomas comments with a wide grin. "I can't possibly risk you doing something ... unknightly."
"Not after Sir Griswald, anyway," Thomas adds.
"Like what, barking?" Redmane asks, then shrugs. "Well, shall we move on then?"
"Sir Griswald, the great dragon layer. He was a bit hard of hearing and instead of slaying the dragon he ... well, you get the idea," Thomas comments as he starts walking back towards the entrance. "Come on, we have a long road ahead. We'll be passing through November. There are a few things to show you there."
"Riiiight," Redmane says, following Thomas. "Dragon layer. You have an odd sense of humor."
"I'm not joking. He actually did," Thomas claims. "Very unknightly. So, I can't risk you being seduced or worse."
"Who gets seduced by a dragon?" Redmane asks. "That's ridiculous!"
"Who said the dragon seduced him?" Thomas asks as he ducks into the bedroom. There he quickly collects their things. "I think we can reach the borders of November by nightfall. Once there we can't stay in any towns ... so, it might be a little rough."
"Why can't we stay in any towns?" Redmane asks. "They can't all hate you."
"I'm 'not welcome'," Thomas says, "And the inns are ordered to not admit me. I know some people who don't live in town, though. Might be able to borrow the hayloft from them."
"Is this a setup for a 'roll in the hay' joke?" Redmane asks suspiciously. She's grinning when she asks though. "No Golden Hawks safe-houses along the way then I guess?"
"No, but I have my old home along the border. We'll reach it in a couple days," Thomas notes, "And we can stay there, at least."
The woman actually stands still for a moment at that revelation. "You're willing to show me your actual home?" she asks.
Thomas hefts his pack onto his shoulders. "Why is this such a surprise?" he asks. "I'm rarely there."
"It's just.. so personal," Redmane notes, and then hugs Thomas from behind. "You must really like me!" she teases.
"Uh, yeah," Thomas mutters and tries to escape the embrace, "Something like that. Come on, quit fooling around. We have a lot of land to cover and limited daylight."
He likes me, Redmane thinks, following. He didn't say 'horsing around' this time..