The Magic Mirror

Shades of Gray

"I'll do it," he said. Before he could change his own mind. "I'll help you... defeat Graves."

"You will ," the bird corrected.

"Of course I will!" Fier snapped. Here again his words had to race ahead of his sense. "But you have to get me the antidote first- I won't do anything until I have it!"

The bird bunched into his own feathers and shook a few more loose.

"Immediately my master-"

"I'm not-"

"..If you find you need me at all, Naros is the name to call."

Then the bird was gone again and Fier was left to wave black smoke out his face and wonder what he had just gotten himself into.

-meanwhile-

The antidote was not as easily come by as Naros thought it would be. He went to the Hell's Dungeon first- as of it was where Graves kept all of his poisons and items of pain. But after scavenging the shelves and checking every bottle he could not find a one that matched the vial of blue that Graves had used for the changeling. He checked twice just to be sure but the outcome was the same. This was not the sort of start that Naros wanted to have with the changeling. It suggested a sort of imcompetence that he was trying to leave behind him.

He stepped out and into the hallway only to find five or so birds huddled outside.

"My brothers," he said, surprised to see the mass of feathered forms, swirling in black just outside.

"...and a sister," one added, irritably.

Naros merely watched them all. By the way the faceless figures drew themselves a little closer he knew that they wanted something.

"What is this?" he asked eventually.

They all shook feathers off and a lean, tall bird- who Naros knew as Ghoul- stepped foward.

"Hazzlefrad is dead," he hissed.

Ah, yes. Naros had nearly forgotten that messy detail.

"Dead?" he squawked innocently. "How?"

"Torn," said the little sister bird. "A pile of crows all bloodied and still...took up the whole hall!"

"It doesn't make sense!" Ghoul insisted, frantically."Hazzlefrad was a good bird to the master! If he couldn't meet the master's wishes what chance do we have? You are the master's pet, Naros. Tell us now. Is the master done with us?"

Of course Naros did not want to further worry his fellow birds but in that moment he had a devilish spark of inspiration. It was of the conniving sort, and certainly it had its own share of risks. But if there was ever a time to take risks it had to be now, amidst the biggest one.

"The master is unhappy.." he told them. "He has lost something precious to him, a small vial of something blue. If he does not find it soon I doubt any of us will live to see the day after next."

There was much feather ruffling and murmurs over this. After some minutes of muttering with in their own circle on the matter the group seemed to have found a solution.

Ghoul stepped forward and offered, "If we find the master's vial... will it please him?"

At times it was best that Naros did not have a mouth to see, for at this moment he would hardly have been able to keep the sly smile off of his face.

"What an idea!" he replied. "...yes.. yes, the master would be pleased indeed. But you must bring the vial to me directly. Anyone else will end up as cinders."

To this not a bird could have argued. With good reason they all feared Graves.

"Well where should we look?" piped up a smaller, minion-ish bird.

Naros hardly believed this could have gone any better! A task with six went quicker than with one, after all. He gathered them up and pointed them in separate directions. As they popped and disappeared into clouds of smoke Naros realized there was still one place that wouldn't be searched. Not only because the birds stayed well and clear, but to their misled minds it would seem absurd. He folded his wings about himself and rose into a dark mist away from the corridor.

It was a risk to enter Graves chambers- especially to betray the sorcerer himself. Naros- however- hadn't been hatched yesterday. If the vial was important- and he thought that it might be- then Graves would keep it near.

Nothing was nearer to Graves at this hour than his own chambers. So Naros landed amongst the shadows, stealthy and silent. Red light from the fireplace still lashed out at the walls and bounced off of the canopy bed on the far wall, where dark curtains draped to the floor. Naros waited tensely for a few moments. There were many nights where Graves refused sleep and instead spent the darkest hours pacing the floor and stroking his chin in thought. Naros searched the chamber for any hint of wakefulness and felt relief flood right to the tips of his feathers when he heard the soft breathing of slumber from behind the bed's drapes. Graves was asleep. He was free to search.

Much like the former search all shelves were vial free, as was the table and the mantle. Since Graves thought of little else but that powerful stone the room's items were particularly sparse. Finally Naros braved to push the curtains aside gently. Graves would be just the sort to keep the vial on his body at all times.

He was on his back, arms folded over his chest as if he had just been laid to rest in a coffin. With the old sorcerer's dastardly pale complexion and sunken appearance Naros might have believed he was dead. But Graves' chest still rose and fell. Naros studied the sleeping man seriously and a glint finally caught his eye. It was not the vial.. no, but it was certainly intriguing. A large iron key on a thin chain had fallen from Grave's neck and lay loose and inviting on the pillow.

Naros picked it up and looked towards door, not the one came and went from. The other one. The one where even now there was a slight scratching noise.

That room was locked for a reason. It was the one place that birds could not cloud to or from. Important things would be in that room, and vials were important.

So Naros picked up the key and slunk across the room to the locked door. Just as he placed the key into the lock and turned it a cloud of black burst into the chamber and a bird- the short minion-ish one from earlier- flopped before him.

"I found it! I found it!" he squawked, loudly and pleased. He held the vial of blue liquid in his wing feathers. "Tell the master all is well! All is well!"

"Hush-" Naros began, but he knew it was too late. The soft breath of Graves in slumber had ended. The terrible master was awake. Just as the curtains of the bed parted Naros knew he had no choice. He threw himself into the stupid bird and pinned him to the ground. The kill was swift and merciful in a way. The bird hadn't even known it was coming.

"What is going on?" Grave's voice demanded as the bird became a pile of crows beneath Naros.

"My master," Naros bowed low. "I caught this bird trespassing into your chambers."

He could see that he still had convincing to do. The skepticism was clear between the lines of Graves face.

As the master stepped forward Naros grabbed for anything that could help him. He spotted the key and pointed to it.

"He was at this door, master! But what he wanted with it I do not know."

Graves, however, was not watching the key. Naros felt his hopes plummet as Graves' eyes were instead on the vial amongst the dead birds in a pile. The sorcerer bent over and seized it with a gnarled hand.

"Naros," he said. "It seems we have a gullible birds to take care of. Find out if the changeling has tricked any other birds into helping his friend and kill them."

"Immediately Master," Naros replied.

Graves dismissed him with a hand, tucking the vial into the folds of his robe. Naros left the chambers with new hopelessness. One thing that was certain was that he wouldn't be getting the vial. So he sulked for the dungeons with the hope that he could still keep the changeling's trust.