He understood why they sent him to investigate – but what did they really expect him to find? There wasn’t much mystery here. The assassination squad sent to eliminate the Jaeger Raine Solara was wiped out. Sure, that’s shocking, Raine wasn’t supposed to be anything remarkable - just another low-ranking Jaeger barely worth remembering. How she had managed to come out the victor and obliterate an elite squad was certainly a question mark. But that it happened seemed certain enough. Damek may not have understood how, but as far as what happened – that seemed obvious.
Damek steps carefully through the dim, dirty streets, his clean, Italian boots making soft echoes in the quiet evening air. His eyes flicker over every shadow, every detail, as he tracks the faint magical residue left behind by whatever spell she had apparently been using. It must have been somewhat powerful to leave a trail he could follow even hours after the incident. He had followed this thread through the labyrinthine alleyways of the city, past shuttered stores and decaying warehouses. It was subtle, nearly imperceptible—just a faint signature of something powerful, something foreign to this area.
The trace led him here, to an old street corner he had never been to before. The midmorning sun rising in the sky casts a warm glow on a small, unassuming shop, tucked between buildings that look abandoned. The sign above the door reads “9th Street Curios and Sundry,” in faded gold letters, the edges chipped with age. There is nothing else open in the area and the trail ends here - almost at the doorway. I guess this is as good a place as any to start the investigation.
He steps forward, pushing open the door, and the bell above jingles softly as he enters.
Inside, the shop appears to be just as ordinary as it looks from the outside - shelves lined with dusty trinkets, old books stacked haphazardly, and the scent of aged wood and something vaguely sweet in the air. The shopkeeper stands behind the counter, appearing unremarkable. His clothes are simple, yet elegant, black pants and vest with a white shirt. Damek notices a black suit coat draped over the back of a chair behind the counter. The man is focused on some task behind the counter, seemingly unaware of Damek’s presence.
Damek takes a few steps deeper into the shop, his senses on high alert. The magic he had traced is nowhere to be found – nothing but the scent of incense and… apple cider? He moves carefully, his eyes scanning every corner, but there’s nothing that overtly stands out that could have been a source of that energy.
At the counter, Theo looks up and offers a friendly smile. "Can I help you with something, Sir?" His tone is warm, and his eyes glint with a quiet curiosity.
Damek’s instincts scream that something is wrong, but his senses beg to differ. The store is perfectly ordinary, nothing here radiates magic, nothing seems unusual - but maybe that’s the problem. He keeps his voice even, though the words feel like an understatement. “Just browsing,” he replies, his eyes darting over the shelves.
Theo nods, and with a fluid motion, he gestures vaguely toward a table where an assortment of odd objects is laid out. "Feel free to look around. There’s some hot cider available for patrons, if you’d like. It’s cold out there today. If you have any questions, please feel free to ask"
Damek doesn’t answer right away. He keeps walking around the store, feigning casual interest, but his eyes are keen, searching. He feels… something, but it’s elusive, like trying to catch the wind. He stops near a display case on the indicated table filled with rings, his eyes narrowing as he traces the lines of the delicate velvet slots. One, in particular, catches his attention - empty, as if something once belonged there but was taken.
“Perhaps a cup of cider would be nice.” He says, looking back to the proprietor. Theo smiles broadly and places two porcelain teacups on a tray, fills them with hot cider, adds a plate of cinnamon sugar scones and motions towards a small table in the corner for Damek to sit with him.
Just then, the door jingles again, and a child rushes into the store, the quiet solemnity of the shop suddenly bursting with palpable energy. "Whoa!" the boy exclaims as he runs toward a table full of ancient metal scabbards.
As Theo sets down the tray with the cider, he grabs a small, ornate mirror with a little crack in the corner from behind the counter and props it up, angled toward the child so he can keep an eye on him. “Kids and antiques,” Theo says with a chuckle. “Love them both, but you can never be too careful.”
Just then the sound of a small boy’s startled scream followed by the high-pitched crashing sound of a small ceramic figure falling off the edge of its display shelf fills the room.
Theo’s smile doesn’t falter, though there’s a slight shift in his posture. He walks over with measured steps, bending down to pick up the pieces. “Careful, Jem,” he says kindly, though there’s a trace of something sharper in his voice. “Some things aren’t toys, kiddo.”
He turns to the child, gently chiding him. “You’ve got to be a little more careful with these things. Don’t want to break history, now, do we?”If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.
The child sheepishly nods and picks up another item, while Theo cleans up the mess and sets things right, continuing his quiet reprimand.
As Theo steps away from the child and goes behind the counter to retrieve a cloth, he smiles at Damek, his eyes twinkling with some private amusement. "Be good, now," he says with a wink. "I’ll be right back."
With Theo distracted, Damek takes a slow breath. He reaches into his coat pocket, pulling out a small vial. It contains a clear liquid—an odorless drug enchanted for mind manipulation. His plan had been to lace Theo’s cider with it, subtly influencing the shopkeeper to get the information he needed about the incident from the night before.
But as he uncorks the vial, something catches his eye – something reflected in the polished surface of the nearby mirror. The shadows in the mirror are moving, shifting, reaching unnaturally out from the mirror. For a moment, Damek thinks his eyes are playing tricks on him. But the movement is unmistakable.
He freezes. His heart races, and his grip tightens around the vial. The shadows in the mirror aren’t just reflections - they’re alive somehow.
Damek’s breath catches in his throat as the shadows coalesce, taking on vague, human-like forms. Their limbs stretch unnaturally long, and their movements are jerky, like puppets on invisible strings. One shadow reaches toward the surface of the mirror, and to Damek’s horror, its hand begins to push through - dark tendrils creeping out into the room.
The temperature drops, a chill seeping into his bones. The vial in his hand begins to tremble, though whether from his unsteady grip or some unseen force, he isn’t sure. The shadows seem drawn to it, their inky appendages straining toward the glass – towards its wielder. He quickly stashes the vial back into his pocket and the shadows withdraw back into the mirror.
Damek continues to watch the mirror in silent panic, then his eyes flit to Theo, his suspicion growing. “Be good now.” The words, so casual, could be taken as a simple parting phrase. But in Damek’s world, nothing is ever casual. He feels the weight of the underlying threat, a warning wrapped in the softness of this shopkeeper''s friendly demeanor.
Clearly, this mirror is no ordinary piece of glass. He now recognizes it as an artifact. A powerful, ancient artifact with the capacity to trap souls and possibly even worse. Damek’s pulse spikes. He recognizes the danger; the immense power it holds. This is no trinket - it’s a weapon, and if Theo had placed it there intentionally, it’s a clear message: Don’t cross me.
In that instant, Damek’s mind races, realizing he’s just narrowly avoided death, or worse. The mirror is far too dangerous to underestimate, and the shop itself? It’s not a haven of harmless oddities; it’s a fortress brimming with unfathomable power, carefully concealed behind the proprietor''s unassuming smile.
Damek quickly glances around, his focus never leaving the mirror while simultaneously wondering what else might be watching him. He straightens, his pulse still pounding in his ears. For the first time in his life, he feels truly out of his depth. The pieces are falling into place, but they don’t make sense. The seemingly kind proprietor, the shop, the faint trail of magic - it’s all connected, it must be - but the risk is too great.
One thing is perfectly clear in the dark mage’s mind: This is not a man to be trifled with. Damek’s investigation has just turned up someone who is much more than his appearance would dictate.
As Theo returns to the table, the atmosphere changes instantly, the aura of malevolence and malice is replaced by the bright warm smile which is evidently permanently glued to the young man’s face. The smoky apparitions reaching from the mirror have faded, replaced by the bright reflection of the shop. The boy, noticeably less energetic after being gently scolded and given a cup of hot cider, has settled into the corner, seemingly content with the cider and the warm atmosphere. Theo is still his calm, genial self, but Damek senses an edge to him now, a dark and ominous power hiding just behind the warm facade. His gaze flickers briefly toward the child to make sure he is still behaving, then turns back to Damek, his smile ever present as he takes a moment to look him over and then sit down to talk.
Theo hands Damek the cider, his smile unchanging. “You have the look of someone who’s seen a lot of the world,” he says casually. “Found anything interesting out there lately?”
Damek takes the cider but doesn’t drink, his gaze lingering on the mirror. “I’ve come across a few curiosities,” he replies evenly, his voice low. “Sometimes, you find things that aren’t what they seem.”
Theo chuckles. “Oh, I’d say that’s true everywhere. People, objects, places - everything’s got a story. Sometimes, it’s just a matter of knowing how to look, and what to look at.”
Their words are light, but the tension Damek feels between them hums beneath the surface. The child’s laughter breaks the moment as he marvels at a new toy he has found, this time it’s a glass paperweight shaped like a dragon.
Damek’s eyes flick back to the mirror, and for a fleeting second, spotting again the movement within its surface - a shadow, a flicker of something alive. His grip on the cider tightens.
“I should be going,” Damek says abruptly, setting the unconsumed drink on the counter.
Theo doesn’t press. “Of course. But if you ever find yourself needing something unique, or if you need to be rid of something you no longer need, you know where to find us.”
As Damek steps toward the door, Theo adds, almost as an afterthought, “Take care out there. The world can be… unpredictable.”
Damek pauses on the sidewalk, his heart racing. The shop radiates no magic whatsoever, no power at all - but the man inside is something else. The mirror’s presence, Theo’s unshakable calm, and the faint trace of Raine’s magic that led here in the first place have left Damek deeply unsettled.
For the first time in a long while, Damek feels the cold touch of doubt. He’s no closer to understanding what happened to the agents sent after Raine, but he knows one thing: this shopkeeper is no ordinary man, and this investigation has become far more dangerous than he originally anticipated.