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A cloaked figure sat astride, watching from the trees, her face tight with anger.

A wisp of black smoke rose from the remains of what had been a thriving village only a week ago when she'd last visited. Survivors were picking silently through the ruins, searching for anything they could salvage and at the edge of the village, she could see three shrouded bodies laid in a row.

The thrice-damned raiders were getting bolder! Two villages in less than a month and the Guild did nothing!

She gritted her teeth. Someone had to do something. If the Guild refused again, she would have no choice. She would have to take matters into her own hands.

She turned her horse and rode determinedly away. There was someone she had to see and this time she would accept no excuses.

Miles away, in a small hut, a grey-haired man was gazing into a mirror. At least it looked like a mirror at first glance. It was a silver disc, a perfect circle—paper thin and lighter than silk. At the moment it was reflecting his face but as he stared, the surface shimmered and he caught a glimpse into another world. A world where metal birds flew though the air and people merely pointed a stick to kill someone. A world of powerful magicians, far stronger than anyone he'd met, including himself. If only he could tap into it, bring a warrior from that world to this...

His heart beat faster. He was so close... the book he'd found in the old library held the key, he was certain. That book, and the silver disc he was looking at now.

If he dared.

The Warrior and The MagicianWhere stories live. Discover now