As Azel polished the mysterious onyx mirror, he heard the creak of the shop door. Feeling slightly curious, the zombie tilted his head to try and see if he could hear the conversation between the apparent customer and Gryphon.
It took a moment of adjustment before he could distinguish what the mumbles from the room over actually meant. Most of Azel's senses were unnaturally strong: he could see fine in pitch darkness and hear the crunch of a yeti's footsteps even during a fierce blizzard. His sense of touch was lacking, however, but the zombie hadn't been significantly held back by it yet.
"..Pardon me," Said Gryphon suddenly, "But that scar below your eye, were you once a slave?"
The customer hesitated, and Azel strained to hear the reply. "I was," the voice finally admitted, low and measured. It belonged to a man, older but steady, with an undercurrent of steel that suggested he had long since made peace with whatever Gryphon had seen. "It was a long time ago."
His hand paused over the mirror as Azel felt himself leaning closer towards their room. He was curious on how Gryphon was going to save this awkward atmosphere he had created.
"You see," Started Gryphon, "I had also lost my daughter to slavery... I apologise, I have shared too much."
The room fell silent for a moment, the weight of Gryphon's admission hanging heavy in the air. Azel froze, caught off guard. That was just the same lie he had told Azel when they first met! How many daughters did Gryphon have?
The silence from the other room stretched on, and Azel couldn't resist his curiosity. He leaned closer, his enhanced hearing easily picking up the muted sounds of shifting feet and a throat being cleared.
"I see," the customer finally replied, his voice softening. "I'm... sorry for your loss. It's a pain I wouldn't wish on anyone."
"Thank you," Gryphon replied, his tone sombre, the perfect blend of regret and resilience. Azel could almost imagine the old man's practiced expression—kind, weary, and just distant enough to seem sincere.
The zombie shook his head, wondering how Gryphon always managed to pull it off. It was impressive, really, the way he could lie so easily.
The sound of coins clinking snapped Azel out of his thoughts. It seemed the conversation had shifted to business. The customer murmured something about needing a protective charm, and Gryphon's voice regained its usual business-like tone as he began explaining options.
Azel returned his focus to the mirror, buffing its surface until it gleamed. His reflection stared back at him—pale skin, faintly glowing eyes, and an expression that looked perpetually unimpressed. The mirror itself was strange, though. The longer he looked at it, the more it seemed to shimmer, as if shadows were shifting beneath the polished surface.
"You shouldn't linger on that mirror for too long," Gryphon's voice called out, startling Azel. The old man had returned without him noticing, the customer nowhere to be seen.
"Why? Afraid I'll see something you don't want me to?" Azel quipped, setting the mirror down with feigned nonchalance.
Gryphon arched an eyebrow, his sharp gaze locking onto Azel. "That mirror is a relic from the Shadow spire. It doesn't just reflect—it reveals. Some things are better left unseen."
Azel blinked, his curiosity instantly piqued. "Reveals what, exactly?" he asked, unable to mask the intrigue in his voice.
Gryphon sighed, rubbing his temples as if regretting his decision to share even that much. "It reveals truths—memories, hidden thoughts, and sometimes glimpses of... possibilities. But its insights are rarely comforting, and its revelations often come at a cost."
Azel picked the mirror back up, turning it over in his hands. It was deceptively simple, its frame unadorned and its surface unnervingly smooth. He squinted, half-expecting to see some ghostly image or cryptic symbol appear, but all it showed was his own reflection.
"And you just leave something like this lying around in the backroom?" he asked, cocking an eyebrow. "Seems pretty reckless, even for you."
Gryphon's expression remained unreadable, though there was a faint twitch at the corner of his mouth. "That's why I entrusted it to someone who doesn't know how to activate it."
Azel scowled, setting the mirror down with a bit more force than necessary. "Nice to know you have so much faith in me."
The mage ignored the jab, stepping closer to inspect the mirror. "The Shadow Spire was a place of immense power, but it was also deeply cursed. Supposedly it was the final resting place of a dead god. Which means the mirror is not just an object—it's connected to something far more dangerous"
Azel frowned, his gaze flicking back to the mirror. "Sounds like the kind of thing that'd fetch a pretty price on the black market. Why keep it here instead of selling it off to some rich idiot who doesn't know better?"
"Because I do know better," Gryphon replied curtly. "Artifacts like this shouldn't be in circulation. The fewer hands it passes through, the better."
The zombie's lips twisted into a wry smirk. "So you're a self-appointed guardian of dangerous junk? Didn't peg you for the noble type."
Gryphon's expression darkened, his voice dropping to a low growl. "You always manage t do a great job reminding me how selfish you are, Azel."
The weight of Gryphon's words lingered in the air, silencing any retort Azel might have had. Instead, he turned back to the mirror, his reflection staring back at him with a faintly defiant gleam in its glowing eyes. The idea of the mirror revealing hidden truths gnawed at him. He'd always been curious about his own origins, about what had brought him back from the grave. Could the mirror answer those questions? Did he even want those answers?
"You're thinking about using it," Gryphon said, breaking the silence. His voice was flat, but there was an edge to it, a warning beneath the words.
"Maybe," Azel admitted, shrugging one shoulder. "You make it sound like a bad idea, but isn't that just because you're afraid of what you'd see?"
The old man's gaze turned cold, his sharp features hardening like stone. "You have no idea what you're playing with, Azel. Leave the mirror alone."
For a moment, the zombie considered pushing back, throwing some snarky comment Gryphon's way just to see how far he could go. But the intensity in the mage's eyes gave him pause. Gryphon wasn't just being cautious—he was afraid.
"Fine, I won't use the mirror," Said Azel with a exaggerated sigh. "And now that you're free from work, we can finally start those magic lessons, right?"