Outside, Dave stood on the dusty dueling grounds just behind the mansion, his hands trembling as he held the heavy sword someone had shoved into his grip minutes ago. His knuckles were white, sweat dripping down his face.
"This thing's got more weight than my will to live," he muttered.
Across from him, the nobleman he had accidentally offended was grinning ear to ear. He spun his sword between his fingers with ease, clearly enjoying the moment. A small crowd had gathered—nobles looking for evening entertainment, whispering and placing quiet bets.
Dave tried to copy the spinning move with his own sword and almost dropped it.
Meanwhile, inside the mansion, Matt was sneaking down a hallway with Nia perched on his shoulder. They moved quickly from room to room, checking for the one with the relic mirror Harlic had described. As Matt opened another empty guest room, Nia turned her head toward a window.
"Something's going on outside," she said.
Matt walked over and pulled the curtain aside, peeking down into the courtyard. His eyes went wide as he saw Dave out there, visibly shaking, standing opposite a man in full dueling posture.
"Oh, come on," Matt groaned, rubbing his hand over his face. "Can't anything ever go according to plan?"
Nia stood up on his shoulder. "Open the window," she said firmly. "I can help him."
Matt pushed the window open without hesitation. Nia raised both her arms and focused. A soft green glow formed around her hands as she whispered an incantation. A streak of light zipped from her palms and arced down toward Dave.
On the field, Dave blinked as a sudden warmth rushed through his chest. His eyes widened. The fear began to melt away. His grip on the sword steadied. He could feel his posture adjust, his balance shift perfectly under him. Suddenly, he understood the weight of the weapon, the movements of his opponent, the rhythm of a duel—like he had trained for years.
Dave smirked and raised the sword with confidence.
"Alright," he said under his breath. "Let's dance, glove-thrower."
Matt blinked in surprise as he watched Dave move gracefully across the courtyard below. "What did you do to him?" he asked, eyes fixed on the scene.
Nia smirked, her arms folded proudly. "It's a temporary enchantment. It lets him grasp the art of the sword for a short time—as if he's trained his entire life. Should give us plenty of time to find that mirror while he keeps everyone outside entertained."
Back on the dueling grounds, Dave had just sidestepped the nobleman's first thrust with ease. The crowd gasped. Another attack came—this one faster—but Dave turned with the motion, the blade barely grazing the air near his shoulder. A third thrust followed, and Dave spun with a fluid grace that left the noble stumbling.
Whispers buzzed through the gathered nobles. Some clapped in excitement; others simply stared in awe. Dave, now caught up in the rush, moved like he was born to do it. His nervous expression was gone, replaced by calm focus.
But the nobleman was growing angry. His pride pricked, he kicked up a clump of dirt with his boot, sending it flying toward Dave's face. Dave instinctively raised a hand to shield his eyes, momentarily blinded.
Seeing his chance, the nobleman lunged forward with his sword.
The crowd gasped.
But with a smooth motion, Dave's sword came up and knocked the oncoming blade away with a clean, effortless deflection. The strike didn't just miss—it was redirected as if Dave had known exactly where it would land.
The nobleman froze, stunned. He took a step back, then slowly dropped his sword.
"My sincerest apologies, master swordsman," he said, lowering his head. "Had I known someone of your caliber graced the ballroom, I never would've drawn steel against you."
Dave blinked, still catching his breath. "Uh… yeah. Apology accepted."
He turned slightly and mumbled under his breath, "What the hell is happening right now?"
Matt pushed open the last door and stepped into a quiet, dimly lit room. Dust hung in the air, and the only furniture was a table with a strange mirror resting on top. The mirror looked old, with cracks along the frame and a faint dark glow coming from its surface. It didn't reflect the room properly—the image inside shifted like water.
Nia stopped at the doorway, clearly uncomfortable. "That mirror… there's something wrong with it," she said, her voice shaking slightly.
Matt looked at her. "What is it?"
She stepped closer but kept her distance from the mirror. "It's called a Soul Mirror. A long time ago, they were made to trap the souls of dangerous beings so they couldn't hurt anyone. But using one always came with a risk. They're cursed, and most were destroyed."
Matt leaned over to take a closer look. Suddenly, he froze. Behind the glass, a young woman appeared. She looked terrified, pounding on the other side of the mirror with her fists. Her mouth moved as if she were shouting, but there was no sound. Her eyes locked onto Matt's, pleading.
"Nia… that's Harlic's daughter," Matt said, stunned.
Nia nodded slowly. "I think you're right. Somehow her soul was pulled into the mirror. And whatever was inside before… it must have taken over her body."
Matt stared at the trapped girl. "So the one ruling this town, the one who tried to have her own father executed… isn't really her?"
"No," Nia said. "It's something else. Something dark pretending to be her."
Matt took a step back, mind racing. "We have to find a way to free her."
Outside, Dave stood with his chest puffed out and the sword still in hand, surrounded by a small group of women chattering with admiration.
"You moved like a true master!"
"Where did you learn to fight like that?"
Dave was soaking it all in with a smug grin, basking in praise like a warm sunbath. "Well, you know… it's all about flow, precision, discipline…" he said, trying to sound like someone who actually knew what he was talking about.
Just then, the girl in the silver mask approached him slowly, the other women parting to make way. She looked at Dave with curious eyes, and a faint, knowing smile played on her lips.
"There's something strange about you," she said, circling him like a cat would a mouse. "I can feel a bit of... unpleasant magic clinging to you." She tilted her head. "You didn't happen to cheat, did you?"
Dave laughed nervously and scratched the back of his neck. "I… uh… not sure what you mean. I'm just naturally gifted."
Her eyes stayed locked on him. "Mm-hmm," she said, clearly unconvinced.
Just then, Dave caught sight of Matt at the far end of the ballroom, peeking through a door and waving urgently.
"Well, looks like I have somewhere to be!" Dave said quickly, stepping back. "Thanks for the duel! Gotta run!"
He turned and hurried across the floor, disappearing through the door with Matt and Nia. As the door closed behind them, the girl in the silver mask remained still, her eyes following them.
She turned to a nearby butler and leaned close, whispering, "Follow them. I want to know who they really are."
The butler nodded silently and slipped away into the shadows.
Outside the mansion, Dave was pacing in circles, mumbling to himself and gripping his hair.
"I was two seconds away from dying, Matt. Two seconds. Where were you?! I was writing my last words in my head! I was going to say goodbye to my organs!"
Matt gave him a tired look. "You were never in danger. Nia had you covered."
Nia fluttered her legs from Matt's shoulder, her tone casual but smug. "Without my magic, you would've been skewered like roasted meat. You're welcome."
Dave stopped pacing and looked at her, eyes wide. "You mean I wasn't actually good with the sword?!"
"You were," she said with a shrug. "Just... temporarily."
Dave dropped to his knees and stared up at the sky, letting out a dramatic groan. "I'm just a fraud with fancy footwork..."
Matt held up the bag. "Focus. We have the mirror."
That snapped Dave out of it. They headed quickly back through the quiet streets, weaving through alleyways until they reached the small inn. Harlic was waiting upstairs, anxiously pacing by the window. His eyes lit up when he saw them return.
Matt carefully pulled the mirror from the bag and set it on the table. The glow of it made the room feel colder, but softer, too. Harlic stepped forward, holding his breath as he looked into the glass.
Inside, the young woman appeared. Her hands pressed to the inside of the mirror, her expression flooding with emotion. Harlic choked out a sob and pressed his hand to the surface.
"My sweet girl... what have they done to you?"
Tears welled in the girl's eyes, and she mouthed words they couldn't hear. But the connection between them needed no sound.
Dave awkwardly looked away, wiping at his eyes like something had flown into them. "Dust. Definitely dust."
Nia stood quietly, watching the moment unfold before speaking gently. "This mirror… it's ancient. Even I don't fully understand its magic. It's not just a prison—it's a seal. Breaking it the wrong way might destroy the soul inside."
Matt frowned. "Then how do we get her out?"
Nia shook her head. "We'll need someone who understands binding magic. Someone strong."
Harlic turned from the mirror, his voice firm despite the tears. "Anything for my little girl!"
The butler emerged from the shadows, face pale and clothes slightly dusty. He knelt before the lady in the silver mask, speaking in a low voice. "I followed them to an inn near the western gate. I saw the older man holding a mirror in his hand they were with—he's definitely the one you were looking for."
The lady's expression darkened. Without a word, she snatched the glass of wine from the table beside her and hurled it across the room. It shattered against the stone wall with a loud crash, liquid streaking down like blood.
Her heels clicked furiously as she stormed down the hallway, guards and servants quickly clearing out of her way. She pushed open the doors to the private chamber, her eyes immediately drawn to the table at the center.
There was no mirror.
Only a clean, dustless outline where it had rested.
She stared for a long moment, breathing heavily. Then a laugh escaped her lips—low and broken. It grew louder, unhinged, echoing off the stone walls. As she laughed, she reached up and slowly removed her mask. Behind it, her crimson eyes glowed with rage.
"They were right here…" she muttered to herself, lips twitching. "So close. So very close…"
Her fingers dug into the edge of the table.
"A year of careful planning," she whispered, as if trying to convince herself the time hadn't been wasted. "Twelve months of lying, preparing… controlling everything… and now—" Her voice cracked with fury.
She leaned in closer to the table, as if speaking to the mirror that was no longer there.
"They think they can just take what's mine? Like petty little rats stealing from a lion?"
Her face twisted into a grin so sharp it barely looked human.
"I'll boil them alive… then feed them to the pigs."
Back at the inn, Matt was pacing near the window, watching for any sign of movement outside. The streets had begun to settle, but he didn't feel at ease. Not after what they'd seen.
"I don't like it," he said, turning to Dave and Nia. "The longer we stay, the higher the risk. Someone's going to notice that mirror is gone."
Dave sat on the edge of the bed, still fanning himself. "Great. I just started getting used to beds again…"
Nia fluttered down onto the windowsill. "I agree with Matt. This city no longer feels safe."
Matt nodded. "Then we leave. Tonight."
Under the cover of darkness, they slipped out through the inn's back entrance. Harlic lay hidden beneath a pile of blankets in their small cart, only his gray hair poking out now and then. The Soul Mirror was secured in Matt's bag, wrapped in cloth and held tightly to his chest.
They passed through Emberhold's gates in silence, the city fading behind them, unaware that danger was already on their trail.
The morning sun barely lit the streets when a loud crash shattered the quiet of Emberhold. Guards poured into the inn, their boots stomping against the floors as they searched every corner. The innkeeper, half-awake, stammered out what little he knew, but it was clear—the travelers had already fled.
A guard hurried back to the lady, a look of panic in his eyes. He quickly kneeled before her, his voice trembling. "My lady, they've left the inn. We believe they may have fled the city during the night."
The woman's face twisted in anger. Her crimson eyes glowed with a cold fire, and her grip tightened on the edge of the chair she sat in. "Do you mean to tell me… they are gone?" Her voice was low, each word coated with venom.
"Yes, my lady, but we are tracking their movements. We will find them."
She stood, her anger barely contained. "Find them," she hissed. "No matter where they go. No matter how far. I will not allow anyone to take what is mine."
As she turned away from the guard, she muttered to herself, eyes narrowed in seething rage. "I will not let these little thieves ruin everything. I will make them pay."
Back on the road, Matt, Dave, and Nia made their way through the forested trail, the sounds of nature surrounding them as they trudged onward. Dave was once again complaining about pulling the cart.
"Do you realize I'm doing all the work here?" Dave groaned, his face drenched in sweat. "If I keep this up, my legs are going to fall off."
Harlic, seated inside the cart, chuckled weakly. "I'm afraid my old bones aren't much help these days… I'm sorry, young ones."
Dave sighed, then asked, "Where are we even headed? What's the plan?"
Matt, who had been walking ahead, turned to Nia, his expression thoughtful. "Nia, do you know of anyone who can help us understand this mirror? Someone who might know the secrets it holds?"
Nia jumped up to the cart, swinging her legs as she thought. "I remember something. When I lived in the forest, the trees sometimes spoke to me. They told me to stay away from a certain place... a region deep within the mountains, where a powerful witch lives. But…" She hesitated, her expression conflicted. "I don't know if she's good or evil. The forest couldn't tell me that."
Matt's brow furrowed. "A witch, huh?" He looked at the path ahead. "Could be our best bet. But we have to be careful. We don't know what kind of magic she deals with."
Dave, still pulling the cart, groaned. "Great. A witch. I'm thrilled."
Harlic smiled faintly from the cart. "I'm sure if she's the one you're meant to meet, she will help you. Don't worry."
Matt nodded, his mind racing. "Alright. We'll head for this witch. It's a risk, but it's the best lead we have."
As they continued down the road, the distant sound of a forest breeze mixed with the faint rustling of leaves, the only sign that they were truly on a path unknown. The witch, wherever she was, might hold the answers they needed. But Matt couldn't help feeling a growing unease about what lay ahead.