MIRRORS OF DORMARTH
The Path to Corruption
Prologue
Six candles struggled against the darkness pressing the wooden table. The young sorcerer shifted in the surrounding shadows striving to conceal his anxiety from the cloaked figure standing at the other end of the table. But it seemed little could be hidden from the cloaked one’s hooded gaze. Annoyed with his apprehension, the sorcerer stilled his silent fidgeting.
“Show me the object,” said the cloaked figure. The avarice in his voice stole what little warmth the flames had to offer. The dark one’s impertinent tone sent cold anger howling through the young sorcerer.
The sorcerer froze for a moment until the icy winds raging inside of him subdued. He bent forward and slid a small gilded mirror onto the table. Upon withdrawing his hand back into the looming dark, the mirror vanished from view and reappeared on the other side of the table. A slight shiver slithered down the young sorcerer’s spine.
Shadows stirred and flames fluttered as the dark one moved closer to examine the mirror.
“My companion found it while campaigning in the Forgotten Lands,” spoke the sorcerer in a calm, practiced cadence. “He did not grasp the importance of the object and relinquished it into my care.”
“Heh, campaigning, you mean scavenging,” spat the dark one. “What about you, young one? Do you understand the significance of this object?”
Indignation tore through the sorcerer once again threatening to shatter his carefully constructed calm, but the sorcerer maintained composure as he recited ancient knowledge he recently discovered. “It is one of seven mirrors of Dormarth created by Goibhniu, god of blacksmiths, and the god of magic, Gwydion. Once all seven are acquisitioned, they will grant access to the realm of the dead.”
“I see you are acquainted with the legend, but you are wrong. This mirror is not one of the actual seven. It is merely a replica,” whispered the dark one.
Silence.
The cracking of knuckles echoed in the dark. “Then it’s worthless,” spoke the sorcerer through clenched teeth.
“One as young as you cannot possibly understand the meaning of worth,” snapped the dark one. “While it may not be one of the genuine mirrors of Dormarth, it still testifies to their existence. When Cailleach, the Veiled One, discovered that another entrance to her realm was created without her knowledge, she scattered the seven mirrors across the land and sent seven guardians to protect them. Then she created replicas and scattered them as well.”
The sorcerer’s body froze while his mind pondered and catalogued the newly acquired information. Whispers for vengeance stirred within his head excitedly, yet careful not to disturb the surface of his face. “So we have some proof that the legend is true but are not any closer to finding the true mirrors.”
“Why do you want to find the mirrors of Dormarth? What business do you have with the Veiled One?” The dark one shifted the conversation like the shadows that surrounded him.
Fingernails cut into the flesh of his palms, but the words that the sorcerer spoke left his mouth unhindered by emotion. “The goddess of death exceeded her bounds. She left her realm and stole my family from me before their proper time. I wish to show her that there are consequences to even her actions.”
The dark one snorted with amusement. “While my motives are not as limited as yours, I too have noticed the Veiled One’s extended reach. This poses a threat to our land, and that I cannot have. We have invested too much time rebuilding from the ashes of the Forgotten Time to risk having our civilization wiped out again just because a god was bored.” The dark one’s voice pressed against the sorcerer like cold stone. “I will send you assistance for this quest. But even with my help, you will not be able to face the guardians protecting the mirrors. You must involve the Wild Dog. Can you do this?”
Fingers uncurled from fists to rest on the table’s edge as the sorcerer leaned closer to the dark one. “Yes, but how do we discover the location of the mirrors?”
“It is rumored that the gods Goibhniu and Gwydion searched the land and found every replica. It is rumored that they then engraved maps on each replica, revealing the locations of the real mirrors.” The dark one whispered a string of unintelligible words and an image surfaced on the face of the mirror.
The sorcerer leaned farther over the table to peer more closely at the mirror. His palms left little crimson stains on the wood, but that was of little importance to him.
