ACT I: THE PROPHECY
The first thing Alistair saw was his own death. It happened on a Tuesday in November, the sort of damp London evening that seeps through wool and settles into bone. He stood in his brother's study at Blackwood Manor, a room that had been locked for three years, staring at an object he could not explain. The mirror was not large -- perhaps three feet across, framed in tarnished silver wrought...
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