Note: Here follows the prologue to the novel I’ve been trying to write. Ideas, input, question, comments, anything welcome (if its constructive and will help this story in the long run).
As he lets the last notes build up to a crescendo the mirror cracks, splitting into two almost even pieces. The one side a clear, perfect unblemished version of its former bigger self, the other distorted, riddled with fine veins of cracked glass running criss cross over the surface. Slowly the musician stood up to retrieve the two pieces, taking care not to let it crack or break any further. With both mirrors balanced in his hands he walked over to the dais on the opposite side of the chamber. Carefully he placed the two pieces on a stand, near a throne carved from black onyx that stood in the center of the platform. Then he knelt submissively in front of the throne. The man seated on the throne, looked at the mirrors than back to the musician. His eyes piercing, as if weighing, judging the performance of the musician. Slowly the musician lifted his eyes, catching his masters dark ones staring back at him, unblinking. His master holds his gaze for another minute before breaking the silence.
“The mirror has two sides, look and you will see yourself in both.
On the one side, a clear reflection, showing honesty and purity, untouched.
The other side reflecting a multitude of possibilities.
Images repeating, multiplying, truth running into lies,
obliterated, hiding between the cracks, its pulsing veins, always shifting.
But it matters not which side you choose, born from the same source
both will leave you with a version of a future, looming,
irrespective to the uncertainty it may contain.”
The deep voice boomed through the chamber, a regal tinge to it. The warning resounded in the musicians ears, but he had already caught a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror and he had seen the path he had to choose.
“What is seen can be changed and what has changed can be seen,” the musician replied, his voice had a musical quality to it.
“What you see will also haunt you,” his master replied.
“I have seen the path I need to choose, I am willing to walk it.”
With this the musician raised from the ground, bowing his head he said, “I am forever in your debt, Master. Please allow me to go on this mission for you.”
The man bend forward, he stretches out his hand to lift the musicians head till their eyes are level. Two almost identical pair of eyes stare at each other. The man nods, lifting the mirrors from their stand he hold it up in front of him, joining the two mirrors at their jagged edges. The mirror turns redhot in his hands, the surface starts shimmering as ripples run over it, covering, filling up the cracks. The musician stretches out his hand until it touches the mirror and it starts dissolving, disappearing until there is nothing left.
Slowly the man walks the opposite side of the room, still carrying the mirror. With a satisfied grin he hung the mirror back on the wall and gave a sinister chuckle. “Fool,” he whispered under his breath as he left the room, still smiling.