Mirror, mirror

It was magic.

There was no other reason he could think of that would explain such a bizarre phenomenon. A mirror the size of his palm, with the simple carving of a tree on the back was hardly what anyone would call an oddity--except that it was. The mirror was not only utterly functional but amazingly clear, nearly to the point of being painfully sharp in its captured details. All this was fine. Marcus could understand that. Except for the fact that the entire mirror was transparent and, of course, the fact that the entire thing had lasted for three years since coming into his ownership when it was made entirely of ice. Yes, ice.

The flat surface reflected his image clearly yet no silver or metal coated its back. Yet, when one studied its elegant carvings on the back, one could see straight through it as though looking through the clearest glass, solid air. The carvings themselves were astounding. A simple tree made with simple strokes yet each indentation into the ice held a viewer captive. Marcus himself had spent many an hour simply staring at each individually carved leaf, each curved branch and the one protruding root at the far bottom right of the mirror.

Taken into account its material of construct and the fact that it had survived three summers thus without the existence of a single drop of evaporated water when he extended no effort to preserve it only led him to believe in his hypothesis. The mirror was magical, plain and simple.

Cool to the touch and as smooth as polished marble, it was the one extravagant piece that Marcus carried with him on his journey across the Land. He kept it close to him at all times, worn on a chain of coarse, straw string that hung around his neck; the mirror was a friendly, if not warm, reminder of his home and past. It was the last gift he had gotten from old Madam Leis under the guise of being payment for watching her sheep an extra day. Marcus was no fool--he knew that it was far more than payment. But in a rare spur of acceptance, he had allowed Madam Leis to force her hand and had taken what she had offered without resistance.

And when his conscience had finally nagged him into going back to return it the next day, he had found the cottage gone from its hilltop home, merry flower beds, sheep and all. If that wasn't strange enough, no one at the village remembered knowing any widows by the name of Madam Leis and denied the existence of any cottage at the top of Feiry Hill.

Oh yes, it was magic. Of that he had no doubt.

It was magic that had brought Madam Leis into existence, magic that gave him his Mirror; it was magic that tugged at his heart, urging him to wander about the Land like a lowly peasant--which indeed he was. And it was magic that brought him to places he never knew of, gifted him with experience and insight of the world, and helped him as he helped others.

And just as he knew that it was the magical mirror which made him wander into places where he was supposedly "needed", he knew that one day it would be gone; and he would be left alone to either wander on or settle down.

But for now, he would wander the Land, led by an unexplainable urge to walk caused by an ice mirror and magic.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ah Christ, my brain has obviously rotted and I'm a useless bum.

Where's my Christmas cake?