The Wistful Mirror
The mirror was not in the room where he expected it to be, nor was it the kind of thing one would typically find left unattended on a ridge of scree, overlooking a valley that seemed to swallow the light before it could reach the bottom. It was a large, heavy thing, framed in wood that had darkened with age and the dampness of the centuries, its glass surface so tarnished and pitted by the...
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