The-Mirror-s-Curse
The Silver Truth I first saw it on a night in November, when the gas-lamps of Wren Street were already sputtering their way through a damp evening and the fog pressed against my laboratory windows like a living thing. The mirror stood seven feet tall, its frame carved from ebony and inlaid with silver filigree that my own hands had shaped over three months of patient labor. The glass itself was...
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