Chapter 5: Epilogue

After the festivities Kaa just relaxed, explored the surrounding lands, played and performed for the villagers. He sometimes stayed in the inn, sometimes in their farmhouse, and he often enjoyed the baths. During one of his treks he found a recently deceased black bear. He brought it back to town and recruited some help to do something of it, a little more clothing for him from the fur, and more fangs, claws, bones to accompany his dragon talon around his neck. He made a bonfire and told wild tales of the black bear, most of it from his imagination, humorous yet raw.

Later that evening he found himself in a heated argument with an owl that would not shut up next to his window and ruining his sleep. He slowly came to realize that by doing performances where he invokes what it is like to be an animal, he can either talk with them, or see through them. He often does that just by himself too, sometimes just playing his tambouras, sometimes humming along to it, sometimes dancing to it, or playing with smoke, but whatever the method, he gives them a more ritualistic and sacral feel.

Yet, he did not stay for too long in Hope. One of the reasons being that he is lazy and avoids having to work, truthfully and honestly, and it seemed to him that as the freshness of their glory fades it would be something less and less closed an eye over. It made him feel that this is not the place for him to settle. The other reason being he liked the taste of this journey, he liked the pampering and feast they got for what seemed to him: quick business. He actually would rather not settle at all, and got it into his head to visit the old cities of the past empire. That, and it is warmer there after all.

He asked around if anyone wants to come with him, and jokes with Amanda that she is still in her prime and should tag along. If anyone from his party or the town did come, all the happiness to him. On his way south he visited home, and sent his younger sister, Eera, to Hope, jesting her that she should either learn more magic than their mother's shamanism, or learn to cook like the innkeeper. The people there would learn that while she can be just as wild as her elder brother, she is also more graceful and of a sharper mind.

Down south, he finds company good and bad, sometimes mesmerizing folks with his performances and exotism, sometimes getting into rough brawls. He finds that people are often less straightforward there than those of the north, and agreements gone wrong, messed with, or just his bad mouth might give him a bad reputation here and there. If things would turn too hot, he is also happy to lay low in the wilderness before heading elsewhere. Yet, he always finds good company with alley cats and stray dogs, and at first will always get to know a new place through their company.

Half a year later, he is still off somewhere south, but did ask someone to write down some of his words into a letter to send north. It is a random jumble of stories, accompanied by his artistically drawn stick-figures.

Part one: Foreshadowing. All that glitters is not gold.


Euphoria's fingers warily grasp the edge of a gold mask. It's so shiny, and it's stuck firmly. She wants the thing so bad, she's pulling at it with all of her strength, pushing her foot against the wall. It won't budge. Aww, come on!,- the tiefling whispers, pulling a dagger out of its sheath. Guided by an experienced hand, the blade goes deep in-between the precious metal and the stone. Still no result! Now she's getting frustrated, yanking the knife's handle left and right, desperately trying to get it out of the wall, the greed twinkling in her eyes. SWASH!,- the finely sharped blade meets her finger, spilling a bit of blood onto the stone. You little!..,- the infernal pulls her hand away and inspects the cut. Now that's just embarrassing...,- she thinks to herself, stuff like that hasn't happened to her ever since she was an orphan first accepted into that thieves' guild. All I want is this damn mask, am I asking that much?!
While Euphoria is venting, a drop of blood falls down onto the polished surface of the mask. A subtle flash on her peripheral vision gets her back to reality. She could almost swear the mask lit up for a second! Oh, it's probably just the reflection of the torchlight... She puts her fingers onto the shiny artifact and pulls on it again, not really expecting anything. To her surprise, the mask now comes out easily, pieces of stone cracking and falling to the dusty ground. Oh, really, now?,- the infernal mumbles, a satisfied grin appearing on her pink face. Folks, I think I found it!,- she drops the torch and screams in childlike joy, looking up the well. The light coming from the throne room is so bright it almost hurts her eyes. Still hearing her voice echoing up the shaft, the tiefling looks back at the mask, at the curvy reflection of her face smiling back at her from its glossy surface. She has never seen anything like it: the object so alluring it almost feels like her hands move on their own, slowly bringing the aurum to her pink face, enchanted in the beauty of the metal visard.
As the gold touched her skin, Euphoria felt pure horror run throughout her body... Wait, she didn't! Damn, I almost expected something to happen. Oh, those scary campfire stories...,- she chuckled. Truly a naive child. It was at this moment that she heard it - the scream. She quickly looked up, but it clearly wasn't coming from the main hall. It wasn't coming from the well either, it felt so dry, echoless... She takes the mask off. Great, now I'm hearing things, it's really time to get some rest,- the pink adventurer shrugs all of that off and examines the front of the mask. The torch's fiery reflection dances happily in all the curves, the mask looks almost boring in its ordinariness.
That... Was disappointing,- the tiefling sighs. Nothing else here, I'm coming up!,- she screams up the well, throwing the thing into her bag. Just a fancy accessory some narcissist noble had made for them, nothing more,- she thinks to herself, climbing up the rope.

***

The infernal decides to stop in town for a while. Living at the farmhouse, visiting the hot springs daily, she comes to the stable every now and then on her way back to feed Butterscotch. She can't afford to buy the white stallion yet, as the very first morning after the feast she's asked the Sheriff, Ruth, for a favor - to send a third of her money to the orphanage located in a town to the south from Hope.
Once this matter was settled, the golden-eyed girl came back to her daily routine for some time. She visited one of Alfrey's weekly services, but didn't find a reason to come back every week. She much prefers Kaa's performances to boring spiritual stuff. She even asks to try and play on his precious tambouras once, but fails miserably, breaking a string. Clearly, quick fingers are not the only thing it takes to be a successful performer. They laugh it off though, and pinkie buys the bugbear a new set of strings and invites him to have a pint or two at the Evershady.

A couple of weeks have passed. The tiefling still enjoys her time in the settlement, making new connections with locals, spending time with her companions, entertaining the kids, and showing them magic tricks. She would go out into the surrounding lands looking for adventures and dungeons to explore, mostly coming back empty-handed and exhausted, but with a huge smile on her face. Life is good in the town of Hope.

***

The mix of sand, dirt, and small stones crackles under her boots as Euphoria looks up. So bright... The tiefling covers her eyes with a free hand and looks back down at her fingers, greedily clasping the mask. There's no way she isn't gonna try it on immediately, she just has to, a solid piece of gold! She feels the smooth metal surface with her fingertips as the mask moves closer and closer to her face. She tries it on and...
A sudden wave of pain and terror has washed over Euphoria, and darkness has encompassed her senses. She pulled the mask off and dropped it to the ground. It cracked in half. She screamed at the top of her lungs, but the silence has devoured it all, leaving the sound of her voice resonating only deep inside her throat, dry and echoeless. She looks up, but she only finds darkness where the blinding light of a throne room was just a moment ago. The rope has disappeared as well, leaving her with no way out from the cold and dark bottom of the well. The torch has almost gone out, but the dim light it radiates is enough to see the warped reflection of her face grinning at her from the shattered mask. Euphoria could see herself scream something joyful upwards and even show a thumbs up before climbing the rope. Her fingers grasping the mask again, her heart racing, she touches the crack. It feels completely smooth, as if it was not the mask that has cracked, but...
Her chain of thoughts got interrupted, as the world fell into darkness with the torch giving the last of its fiery breath away.

***

Listen, I know I said the church is boring and all. But I hoped you could enlighten me and answer some of my questions. Can a person's soul get shattered, like a mirror?,- the tiefling sat down on the floor in front of Alfrey. It's not like I'm getting all spiritual, I've just read some novel and it got me a bit curious,- she said, munching on an apple in a deliberately casual manner.

***

Her hands move through the sand-like soil, fingers bumping into sharp rocks and light pieces of sandstone. Here it is! Her bag! Her freezing fingers undo the various straps and buttons, hurriedly taking the tinderbox out of it. CLICK, CLICK, CLICK!,- Euphoria strikes a flint and steel, the sparks breaking the suffocating darkness for a split second each time. There, the tinder lights up in a tiny, short-lived fire. She quickly lits up a candle, the small flame of a wax light feeling like that of a lighthouse in this thick black nothing surrounding her. It's so dark she can't even see the walls of the well anymore, there's only her, the candle, and the wicked mask.
She picks it up, the small flickering fire she's holding dances nervously in the most precious of metals. She looks into it again, and sees... Herself, calmly sleeping on her bed. But if she is stuck here, then...

The tiefling has opened her eyes, her heart swinging against her rib cage like a mallet, the sunlight streaming in through the open curtains, splashing over the beige walls of her room. She jumped off the bed as if it was a maw of a vicious beast, and went searching for the accursed mask.
Impatient, she throws all the bag's contents onto the floor. Here it is! The infernal flips the mask over, her hands shaking, and what she sees makes her drop the thing like a hot moon onion. Her reflection. It's crying. It's screaming something at her, poorly lit by a single candle in its hand. Her heart has never beaten as fast before, she closed her eyes a couple of times making sure this is not a hallucination or a mirage. The reflection was still there. Was this dream... Real?..

***

Hilmar, my friend!,- the tiefling smiles broadly, having caught the wizard leaving the Evershady Tavern. May I ask some theoretical questions? I need an opinion of someone knowledgeable in arcane stuff, and you're the best mage I know,- she nods a couple of times, as if confirming her own words. Let's just get away from this ugly abomination of a statue, shall we?,- the infernal glanced at the six fingered stone hand towering above the tavern, and a shiver coursed down her body.

So my question is, have you ever heard of any magic capable of messing with someone's reflection? Like, making the reflection have a mind of its own? There's this fictional book I'm reading, and there's this curse or something...,- the infernal explains, leading the wizard further away from the tavern.


***

A thick layer of snow is covering the ground. The townsfolk prefer to stay inside, the pink infernal is no exception. But still, it's rather strange how much time she spends inside her room, quietly, with closed curtains. Euphoria, the very definition of being social, keeping to herself?
But this fact is not the only one that troubles the town dwellers. There were reports of lights shining in the lonely tower, but whenever militia came there they found nothing. Rumors of Night Blades coming back have spread through the town as quickly as a plague, poisoning the recently acquired optimism.
The rumors were only that - rumors - the Sheriff assured. After all, Naeris herself has captured one of the bandits when they tried to get past Strangleberries.

***

I'm telling you, I've seen the bloody lights myself!,- the red-bearded dwarf puts his pint of beer at the table with a loud thud.
Bullshit,- his drinking companion, a tall elf, clad in a long fabric robe with flower patterns, hissed.
Are you calling me a liar, you leaf licker?!,- the man hit the table with his fist in an ear-splitting sound.
A tall figure approached him from the back, laying a hand on his shoulder. The dwarf startled and turned around.
You've had enough beer for today, Hemir,- the tavern owner smiled in a friendly way, but her tone was clearly telling him she was serious. You too, Faelar,- her hazel eyes focused on the young elf. Now, please, go take a walk outside and sleep it off you both, will you? You can always come back tomorrow.
Aww, come on, Amanda! We're gonna be quiet, I promise. The sharp-eared man put his hands up, as if surrendering. You see? Calm!
Sorry, boys, ain't gonna fall for that one again. You still owe me for the previous time. A new table ain't gonna pay for itself, nor the new set of dishes is. Now, shoo, before I make you pay for the broken window as well!,- she scolded them half-jokingly.
What broken window? Ah, that broken window!.. The dwarf rubs the fresh scar on his wrist.
The two quickly finished their pints and left, sheepishly apologizing for the trouble. However bold these two hotheads are, Amanda is like a mother to them, and they dare not cross her.

Listen, sorry for calling you a leaf licker, I didn't mean it,- Hemir exhales his warm breath into the cold night's air.
It's alright,- the elf steps through the snow uncomfortably.
But I've really seen those lights!...
A slim elven hand suddenly grasped the leather of his jacket, yanking the dwarf into a dark alleyway. I think I believe you! Look! Faelar's finger points at three silhouettes in black hoods, leaving through the Greyhorn's shop's window, two of them carrying various stolen tools, mostly pickaxes, and one being the apparent leader, ordering the two around.
Should we stop them?,- Hemir pulls his sword out in a spark of drunk bravery.
Don't be a fool, if those are Night Blades, you won't live to see the next sunrise!,- the elf whispers nervously. What are you doing?!
The dwarf enters the main street and confidently walks towards the three silhouettes, standing with their backs turned. He gets to make only a handful of steps, before slipping on the thin icy surface of some rock, falling down and dropping his disproportionally large blade. CLANNNK!,- his weapon makes a treacherously loud noise, the hooded figures turn their heads in unison.
RUN!!!,- Faelar screams, Hemir instantly sobers up, gets on his feet, and rushes away from the mysterious cloaked criminals faster than ever before, following the elf.
One of the cloaked figures bursts out in uncontrollable, out-of-this-world demonic laughter.

***

No one has seen Euphoria for a couple of weeks now, and if she was in her room, she didn't reply. The people began to get worried, so they broke the door down. What they found behind it was... Shocking.
The room looked like some cultist's lair, dozens of books on occult matters, demons and curses were thrown all over the floor, rune circles and piles of burnt candles indicating some dark rituals took place there, and, for some reason, all the mirrors were covered.
Among all the chaos and disarray it was the desk that stood out, being clear and empty, if not for one thing - a journal laying in the middle of it, opened at the last page.




Part two: Epilogue. Where there is shadow, there must be light!


This time of the year the nights get colder and darker, and so do my dreams...
Ever since I had touched that cursed thing, it felt like I have lost all the joy, I didn't find pleasure in... anything anymore, however hard I tried to convince myself I do. But now I know why.

At first, I thought it was a regular curse, but it's much worse than that. It turns out the mask actually belongs to some archdemon, who was very displeased we vanquished his servant. And it seems I accidentally have made a pact with him or something, splitting my very soul in half in the process. I don't know which one of us has made that foolish decision to try this thing on, but does it even matter now?

I can't very well call myself Euphoria anymore. Nothing euphoric is left in my life, I'm merely a shadow of my previous self, haunted by my own reflection. My existence left bleak and devoid of anything other than sorrow. It feels so weird to write this, as if we are not the same person, but whatever it is I have lost, it was the light of my life. And I intend to get her back. I am going to get my Euphoria back!!!

I can't and won't burden anyone with my own mistakes, so I'm leaving on my own.
Thankfully, I have found a way to get rid of the archdemon, or at least of his control over me. For the time being anyway.
I thank everyone I knew in Hope for being kind to me, and Amanda in particular, your cider truly is the best! I especially thank every one of my ex-companions, I loved the short adventure we had together and, who knows, maybe we will meet again someday. Hopefully, as allies.

P.S. Pardon me for the Night Blades, the Devil made me do it. No, seriously, he did...
Have left the rest of my gold to pay for the damages. Sorry, Mr. and Mrs. Greyhorn!

Love,
Shadow

Hilmar's long term ambition was to further his arcane knowledge. Now that the Night Blade problem seemed resolved he could not really see how he could achieve this remaining in Hope for more than the immediate future. But what do next - and where to go? More decisions that would need to be taken, but he could put these off to another day. He reflected how he liked the people of Hope and he was keen to learn more about the Hand and the tunnels below Amanda's Inn.

However, he hadn't got enough money to afford the cost of a pearl for the component for the Identify spell, so trying to find out more about the Hand with his limited abilities, would have to wait, as would casting Identify on that mask. He had had a bad feeling about that mask right from the start, but pushed it to the back of his mind. He decided he had been worrying unnecessarily. Euphoria seemed unchanged after trying the damned thing on and he wasn't about to embarass himself by bringing it up, particularly when at the moment he had no means of ascertaining its effects.

As for the tunnels, they would have to wait - none of his companions seemed interested in exploring them, for now - having other interests - and he wasn't about to go creeping about these on his own.

Much as he liked the Evershady Tavern, the house with the cat and the hot springs he did not see how he could develop his magical abilities remaining in Hope. Then he remembered Ruth telling them when they first arrived how the town had a spell book, among other things. He visited Ruth and told her of his choices. He asked if he could transcribe some spells from the spell book they had and in return he would serve in the militia as their mage, while he lived in Hope. She was happy to agree to this.

'Nothing is for nothing', as his father often used to say. Hilmar did not want to presume on the townspeople's generosity indefinitely, so made himself useful, in the local barter economy by using his Mending cantrip to fix broken items. With this and his militia service he could occupy his time and earn a living, while he considered what do next. Well, he did not need to make an immediate decision now. He would stay through the winter and decide in the spring.

He remembered tales of a mythical kingdom called 'Scotland' where if things were 'alright' they would not stay 'alright' for very long. The Night Blades seemed to have gone, or so he had thought. He was concerned when he learned from Naeris about the further run-in Strangleberries had had with them. The sheriff would be organising something and he would be participating.

Ralavaz had said they were a lacklustre bunch, apart from the two dwarvish sisters. The situation would easily be resolved. He would be happy to help.

While leaving the Evershady Tavern he was approached by Euphoria.
Hilmar, my friend!, - the tiefling smiled broadly. "May I ask some theoretical questions? I need an opinion of someone knowledgeable in arcane stuff, and you're the best mage I know,"- she said nodding a couple of times. "Let's just get away from this ugly abomination of a statue, shall we?" said the infernal glancing at the six fingered stone hand towering above the tavern. "So my question is, have you ever heard of any magic capable of messing with someone's reflection? Like, making the reflection have a mind of its own? There's this fictional book I'm reading, and there's this curse or something...," the infernal explained, leading the wizard further away from the tavern.

"That's an interesting question," he responded, unsure why she was asking. "I'm not an expert but I know a man who is - my pupil-master, Helvetius, who trained me in much of what I know." He had often spoken of the wizard to whom he had been apprenticed. "Yes, this can happen with certain cursed items or with demonic bargains. But as I understand it, nothing is irrevocable. It has a lot to do with a person's level of willingness to go down a certain path and their understanding, or lack of understanding of certain consequences." He could see the tiefling's eyes beginning to glaze over. "So put another way certain powerful entities might work on a person's mind, telling them that they are doomed forever, when in fact, that is not necessarily the case. It's analagous to what a lawyer would describe as an 'unenforceable contract'. There are powerful wizards and clerics who have the power to undo the effects of such things."

Remembering that he had not called in on a farmer to mend a broken harness with his Mending cantrip he added, "I have some notes about the subject if you're interested. Also try picking Alfrey's brains about the spiritual aspects," heading off to help his client.

In tales there were beginnings, middles and ends. But in real life the tale continued in a never-ending story.

He was perturbed when occult lore and the note were found. He could now, draw up all the dots he reflected sadly, discussing this with Alfrey later. Right from the start his instinct had told him that mask would be trouble. He hoped the tiefling would find peace and he hoped he had pointed her in the right direction.

He would remain in Hope over the winter and then decide in the spring about moving on. Or maybe stay on for a bit, like his immovable rod!