A Shattered Soul

“It’s grateful I am that ya said you’d help me out with this, Erik,” Gregory said.

Alaric shook his head. He watched as the workmen moved the large mirror towards the cart. It was beautiful, a piece of art on its own. “I just don’t understand why you’d want to be rid of it,” he said, glancing over at Gregory.

Shaking his head, Gregory shrugged. “I don’t care for it,” he said, his voice soft. “There’s naught more to it than that, I can assure ya.”

Nodding, Alaric looked back towards the workmen, just as one of them misstepped. What happened next was, while predictable, completely unavoidable. The man overbalanced, nearly falling. In order to catch himself, he let go of his end of the mirror. The end he’d been holding crashed into the ground. Alaric winced at the sound of shattering glass.

“Well,” he said, “I guess that takes care of that.” Smiling wanly, he turned back to Gregory. Chagrine turned to shock when he saw that the man was collapsed on the ground.

“Gregory,” he said, dropping to his knees. He touched Gregory’s neck. The pulse was still there, but it was weak. What had happened? The mirror broke… Alaric felt the color drain from his face.

Standing, he called, “Gather up all the pieces you can find. Pack it all up together and bring it to the National Museum.”

The workmen looked confused at the order, but they didn’t argue. Instead, they did exactly as he directed them. After all, it was very few people indeed who would argue with one of the nobles.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: