Story: The Mirror of Their Dreams - What a Squire Saw

She had been gone quite a bit from the Raven, her studies in the combative arts keeping her tied up in Antonica and Stormhold for quite some time.

When she had finally made her way back to her room at the Raven, Merrique quickly put her larger weapons away, keeping a simple short sword on her left hip after the events that had been occurring recently; she did not wish to be caught off guard and without a weapon should whatever was threatening the woman Laenne return.

There was a buzz about the entire establishment, speaking of a strange mirror that Duvessa had somehow acquired - the stories there varied from it being a gift from the Foci herself to more realistic rumors that she bought it from someone who just didn't know what they had. Either way, the abilities of the mirror had her curious, and like any Ayr`Dal, she had to take care of the burning obsession before it drove her crazy.

Despite only being fourteen years of age, the aspiring knight believed she knew herself very well, and so unlike many who spoke of their feelings with this mirror, she was not afraid of what might be reflected.

The tavern was more crowded than it had been when she arrived, and with her typical confident stride, the chain-clad girl walked over to the mirror and stood in front of it, inspecting it before the glass was visible. The markings on it made her wonder about its creator, and the pivoting feature was something she found rather interesting as she turned the mirror around to face her properly.

At first, nothing happened - the tavern was reflected behind her, its patrons the same as they were when she had walked up to the mirror. The petite Ayr stared back at herself, white strands of hair falling to frame her face as they always did while the rest was kept very short and mostly black, like always. Golden eyes that sparkled with Light blinked several times as she looked over her armour...as it changed.

Rather than the thin iron chainmail she was wearing, the figure became clad in something quite different. This Merrique seemed taller suddenly, with enchanted black iron mail tunic and greaves while her arms were covered by similar colour plate mail pauldrons and gauntlets; the armour sparkled with an almost holy silver-white light, and engraved on each broad surface of the pauldrons was the symbol she'd planned on using when she became a knight...though there were a few changes on it she could not understand.

Like a mist drifting over water, another image began to superimpose itself over the Knight Mai`claire.

Standing atop a rainy, wind swept mountain side, a different figure can be seen. This woman is clearly human, her long red hair tangled in waves blown back from her face by the wind. She wears what would now be considered an ancient style of platemail, the pauldrons baring a distinct WR on them; in her hands rests a sword of power that seems to almost hum in time with the archs of lightening that dance across the skies. The image is familiar to Merrique, though she had only ever known it as a sketch within an old tome; as a child she had memorized every detail of the sketch, and in her mind's eye she would recall the picture, reminding her of why she wished to become a knight.

A smile touched the lips of the young girl as she looked at the ghostly image, the sight of her hero and the woman she longed to be something she would never forget.

The woman in ancient armour faded, but the lightning torn skies and her sword remained, becoming one for an instant before the Knigh Mai`clair raised her hand and took the sword down from the skies. A flash of lightning struck the point, racing down towards the hilt before wrapping over her hand and racing up her arm. The young knight was wreathed by the lightning for a moment before the skies and their power faded away as mist in the morning.

Holding the sword across her chest, the Knight Mai`claire smiled softly from the mirror; behind her the tavern had changed. It was slightly larger, and quite a bit busier than even the best nights now, its patronage just as varied as ever. Standing behind and to the left of her was a tall Koada`Dal woman, another knight in elaborate ebon plate armour, with pauldrons that bore similar symbols to the unfamiliar one on Knight Mai`claire's. When she smiled, two sharp teeth were visible behind her full red lips, though the woman did not look as frightful as she should.

Barely a step away from the older Merrique, a mostly human man - only slightly older than she - dressed in the dark plate armour trimmed with antique gold of a shadow knight stood, his hand lifting to rest on her shoulder. His black hair was cut short, similar to her own in many ways, and his two near-colourless eyes burn with conflicting emotions...the fires of passion and the flames of darkness.

The younger, real Merrique stands at the mirror, her mouth open in shock at the male figure. She knew him well, though she had not seen him for nearly a year now; the last they'd been in the others presence was a day she wished to forget, when he'd denounced everything they'd promised as children.

They were...happy, in a way...at least they looked as though they were.

Fading away, the image begins to become ghostly and difficult to see. The young squire squints her eyes as the fading ghost of Knight Mai`claire smiles broadly, as she thought she saw something not quite believable, but the image has become so indistinct, she shakes her head thinking that it was just the way the image faded.

Now the Squire Mai`claire looks back at the tavern, the magic gone and the mirror silent once more. Calmly, the girl reaches up and turns the mirror back to its original position - glass away from the eyes of the patrons - and turns to walk away. Many patrons had witnessed the images in the mirror, though she did not yet wish to hear their thoughts. Instead she nods sharply and walks across the room to the stairs, once more ascending them to her room.