For an average day in Sanctuary, it was quite warm and lovely. The ever-overflowing streets and alleyways of the Scrapyard Market bustled with color and activity, street performers boasting their best shows, and merchants peddling their most appealing wares. Odds and ends from seemingly across the multiverse hung, sat, or otherwise were displayed in tents along the street. Cages carrying sleepy creatures hung on brass stands, fabrics with patterns that seemed to shimmer and shift the more you stared at them lay out in colorful bundles, brilliant pendants and jewelry of all sorts on display with a certain aura about them that suggested they may be more than they appear...
Odds and ends of all sorts, color and noise, and most of all- shady characters vying for your attention to pitch you their spiels. Whatever brings you here today, you're quickly distracted from it- unless the goal was to be distracted, then you've come to the right place! Either way, there's lots to do, lots to look at, and lots of ways to get in trouble.
Amongst the many stands and displays, one such mercantile tent had a general array of interesting objects. Exotic fabrics, pendants and jewelry, a few odd potions-- and a gilded hand mirror. Ornate, and old. An odd aura hung about it even to the average layman, but to a magic user in particular- they would be particularly sensitive to its vibe.
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Darkness, all around. An endless nothing.
The memory began again, conquering their way through the hells, the men left standing battered yet emboldened. A flash of gilded wings, and offering the artifact to the celestial creature before him.
An object held out in offering. Foolishly peering into the silvered glass, and finding himself in this place. This awful, awful place.
"For your avarice, and foolishness, your name shall fade into nothing, and you shall pass into obscurity."
Helpessness. Forced to stare out of his prison and watch as the forms of his men faltered and warped, sprouting gilded wings, expressions melting away into mindless subservience. "Away, my Aasimar. To conquer these lands, to rid of the human scourge!"
The image fading away, a hopeless darkness enveloping him. An endless quiet, stretching on for what felt like an eternity.
Nera dragged Vincent along, pulling gently at his arm as she led the way through the market, stopping every so often to get a closer look at something that caught her eye. Various things like jewelry specifically turned her gaze, though what she was really looking for was a tall mirror to put in her room. Or, rather, any sort of mirror, since the psy-wolves had neglected to give her one. Which was fine! They had helped her in so many ways, she didn't have any room for complaints.
"Oooo, look at this one," she pointed out to her son, tugging on his arm once to get his attention.
The mage looked positively bored, merely tagging along on this journey to appease his mother at that moment. He was happy to see her, of course, but he despised shopping for anything that wasn't clothes. Some of the fabrics that were on display caught his eye, but overall he was unimpressed. The wizard could make many of these things himself, though he didn't want to tell his mother that. Not when she seemed so excited to be here.
"Yes, I see," he replied with the hint of a smile, though his demeanor turned quite serious as he properly looked at the object that she was showing him. A mirror. Not a large one like she had been looking for, but a hand mirror. A beautiful one at that. Though, there was something ... off about it.
He held out a hand. "May I see it," he asked pleasantly enough, though inside he was wondering what he was feeling from this mirror. Some sort of magic?
"Oooo, look at this one," she pointed out to her son, tugging on his arm once to get his attention.
The mage looked positively bored, merely tagging along on this journey to appease his mother at that moment. He was happy to see her, of course, but he despised shopping for anything that wasn't clothes. Some of the fabrics that were on display caught his eye, but overall he was unimpressed. The wizard could make many of these things himself, though he didn't want to tell his mother that. Not when she seemed so excited to be here.
"Yes, I see," he replied with the hint of a smile, though his demeanor turned quite serious as he properly looked at the object that she was showing him. A mirror. Not a large one like she had been looking for, but a hand mirror. A beautiful one at that. Though, there was something ... off about it.
He held out a hand. "May I see it," he asked pleasantly enough, though inside he was wondering what he was feeling from this mirror. Some sort of magic?
As Vincent took the mirror, it retained its ominous aura, though outwardly it looked no different than any other mirror. A bit ornate, yes, but the silvered surface remained to a fine polish and reflected their face back at them as innocuously as a mirror can.
Though the longer he stared, the more something seemed to stir behind the glass.... as if it led to another realm entirely, a faint echo of somewhere else.
A darkness was held within this object, no doubt about that. The longer they looked, the more it revealed its true nature. Whispers echoed in his mind, at first unintelligible, but finding their voice- growing. "Join us.... Leave this realm, enter the long quiet.... Become one, and whole, and find your true nature...
The image of their face warped and twisted, enchanting, beguiling. Though just at the edge of his vision, there seemed to be another force behind the glass, clawing, scratching, reaching, struggling.
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Cadence felt a disruption in the void around him, a hazy image appearing in what was vaguely the 'sky' above. It began as a soft glow, a flicker of color, but gradually sharpened into the image of a human's face. What appeared human, anyways.
He felt the void stirring, churning- growing restless. Hungering. This wasn't salvation-- this was someone falling for the same trick he had long, long ago.
He reached out with all his willpower, all of what little strength he had left, banging against the glass- clawing at it to get this being's attention. "Don't trust it! Don't fall for it! Break the mirror! BREAK THE MIRROR!"
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Vincent would not hear the man's pleas, only the evergrowing haunt of the mirror vying to pull them in. Promising things, anything, just to hold his attention long enough...
On the outside, Vincent seemingly began to lightly fade- becoming transparent, almost like an afterimage or a ghost. It was subtle- perhaps not noticeable before it became worryingly so.
Though the longer he stared, the more something seemed to stir behind the glass.... as if it led to another realm entirely, a faint echo of somewhere else.
A darkness was held within this object, no doubt about that. The longer they looked, the more it revealed its true nature. Whispers echoed in his mind, at first unintelligible, but finding their voice- growing. "Join us.... Leave this realm, enter the long quiet.... Become one, and whole, and find your true nature...
The image of their face warped and twisted, enchanting, beguiling. Though just at the edge of his vision, there seemed to be another force behind the glass, clawing, scratching, reaching, struggling.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Cadence felt a disruption in the void around him, a hazy image appearing in what was vaguely the 'sky' above. It began as a soft glow, a flicker of color, but gradually sharpened into the image of a human's face. What appeared human, anyways.
He felt the void stirring, churning- growing restless. Hungering. This wasn't salvation-- this was someone falling for the same trick he had long, long ago.
He reached out with all his willpower, all of what little strength he had left, banging against the glass- clawing at it to get this being's attention. "Don't trust it! Don't fall for it! Break the mirror! BREAK THE MIRROR!"
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Vincent would not hear the man's pleas, only the evergrowing haunt of the mirror vying to pull them in. Promising things, anything, just to hold his attention long enough...
On the outside, Vincent seemingly began to lightly fade- becoming transparent, almost like an afterimage or a ghost. It was subtle- perhaps not noticeable before it became worryingly so.
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