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Post The Silver Mirror(PM to Join)
on: May 09, 2004 04:36
Please see OOC thread in the OCC forum for details.

The wind blew smoothly through the broken window. The dark green curtains shifting with the wind. Walls glowed in the moonlight, showing that paint had been scraped away in the design of nail scratches. Marking in groups of five to show... What? he thought, looking at them.

He slowly dragged his hand across them, feeling the difference of the textures beneath his fingers. His vision was cast from the scratchings to the rest of the room.

Cobwebs cast in the corners and white sheets grayed with dust and moonlight draped over the furniture. The floorboards creak and shift as he makes his way across the room to the most intruging object. A mirror.

It is clearly of fine workmanship, the details craved as perfect as a human's work could achieve. The surface is untouched by dust and shines in what light given. He can tell it is a old mirror, for every piece of it is silver, unlike the metal mirrors and cheap bronze ones they have now.

Brushing back a lock of raven-black hair, he looks curiously towards the mirror, reaching forward to touch it. Reaching, he fails to notice the figure seated on a cushioned chair to his right. Legs crossed and a hand supporting the head.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" the figure says in an amused tone.

"Beyond words..." he answers, turning his head slowly to look at the figure. Stopping from touching the mirror. Both eyebrows raised in shock and mouth slightly ajar. The figure merely smiles playfully.

"Mikael...I thought you were dead...the stakes, arrows...didn't she...?" his eyebrows dive in confusion and his face takes on a suspicious look. The figure, now recognized as Mikael, lets out a short laugh.

"As they say in the cities, it's all done with smoke and mirrors. I do believe that little apparation satisfied their curiousty, though in my personal opinion, I think I over did it with the face...It looked like a zombie more then me..." he continued to laugh, the sound seeming harsh in the surroundings and echoing off the empty walls.

He smiles at Mikael, but his expression turns serious again as he looks at the mirror. Much to his surprise, the surface flickers, and he takes a quick step back. "Fascinating little object, isn't it? Years upon years I have read all I could about it, yet I know little to nothing about it.

'They say it gives immortality to those who want it, and takes it from those who wish naught of it. But then again, they also say it holds the future, past, and present for whom ever looks into it..." Mikael paused, uncrossing his legs and sitting forward clasping both hands, "But I hear it brings reincarnation of six lives forward. Memories and all, carrying onto the next life..."

He looked hard at the mirror, then to Mikael, whom seemed calm and collected. "May I look into it?" he asked, Mikael shrugged. "It is not mine to give permission for." and with that, he reached forward again, stepping forward also. His hand just skimming the surface when suddenly his skin felt like it had been set on fire. He heard footsteps and turned his head to see someone else enter the room.

Then everything faded out.

Merrick jumped awake, sitting unright within a second. Eyes wide, he brought his hand close. He could still feel the pain on the fingertips, but when he inspected it, they were unharmed. He looked around, realizing he had took rest in front of the fireplace.

The fire flickered and crackled, casting shadows on the unlit room. A deep scarlet rug with gold-coloured trimmings was laid out on the floor. Velvet cushioned chairs accompanied a wooden table to his right. Tapestrys hung from the ceiling and walls, with few paintings here and there. There were many other types of objects and furniture in the room.

He sighed and brought a hand to his forehead, then stood up, giving his shirt and pants a quick brush. He took seat at the table, and picked up a paper and quill. He started to write the dream down.

It confused him greatly and bothered him. Especially about his cousin Mikael, he remembered speaking the words of Mikael's death, but he wished he could remember remembering how Mikael died. For here, his cousin was fine and still undead.

Lately this dream plagued him, every third night in his countings. He slumped in the chair when he had finished writing, placing the quill down carefully. He then folded up the paper and placed it inside the nearest book.

The grandfather clock chimed, drawing his attention. It was only six-thirty. Merrick thought to himself, deciding whether to keep about the Mansion or give a visit down to the Inn. He decided a visit would be more interesting.

Walking into the hallway, he headed for the door. Picking up his dark green cloak, he opened the door and stepped outside into the cool spring air.

Within half a hour, he was riding on a red roan down to the village. His blade carrier tied securely to his back.

Galloping down towards the Village, he heard several wolf howls to his back. He glanced over his shoulder, slackening the reins and holding them in one hand as he took out his blade. Eyeing the woods.

Upon a tree branch, a vampire watched amused. Not twitching or moving as Merrick passed below him. It waved off the werewovles mentally.

Within the next fiften minutes, Merrick arrived at the Wolf Dancer Inn and slid off his horse smoothly. Putting a feedbag on and tying up the horse. He entered the Inn hastily, nodding at the Keeper and taking a seat. He studied the people around him intently.

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