The Darkened War

Ch.10

Daniel woke up sluggish. It had been a week since his wedding, and ever since his sickness had been a downhill spiral. It had reached the point where lifting himself from bed was nearly impossible. He would attempt to sit up, but a wave of pain would make him immediately collapse back onto the mattress. It was not the pain, though, that sent him into a panic; but rather, all week doctors had come to visit him and they all left saying the same thing. They had no idea what had come over him, or if there was a cure. He had tried multiple medicines, but every one of them failed; despite everything, his body worked against them. And so, in the first time in a long time, Daniel was afraid—of death.
    Angelica continued to bring Daniel tea in his illness, and so reluctantly he looked forward to her visits. Perhaps she was not as bad as he initially assumed; or he should be suspicious. Even so, he spent little time caring why she came; it was hard for him to focus on anything other than pain and relief.
    But the tea was not enough to save him from death, and Daniel knew if he wanted to make it through this illness alive, he would need to force himself out of bed, and go to the room with his mirror. Maybe now that death was so near, the reflection would be willing to finally give him enough information to stay alive. Modern medicine failed him, but the reflection would not.
    With all his strength, Daniel forced his body into sitting position, and grabbed the headboard to keep from falling back down. After moving himself to the side of the bed, Daniel felt sharp pain as he pulled himself up. An entire week he had spent lying in bed, and now he could barely handle the weight on his legs; but Daniel had no time to dwell on the pain--he was not about to lose. Stumbling over, Daniel placed the palms of his hands on the wall, guiding himself to the door. His head was spinning, and the world blurry; he was nauseous, and barely keeping his insides from coming up—though he had vomited so much he was not sure what could be left.
    Daniel had only made it to the door of his bedroom before he slid down the wall for a break. He tried to make it brief, fearing he would not be able to get up again, but knew if he had not sat down, he would have passed out. After a moment, Daniel pulled himself together, and started up again. He stumbled into the hall, and hand over hand, step by step, made his way to where the reflection was waiting.
    When Daniel entered the room, he immediately sensed something wrong. First, he dismissed the feeling. For a moment he convinced himself that because of his sickness he was simply not thinking clearly—but no. His eyes flickered over to the chess board: there was a piece out of place. Daniel's eyes narrowed as he tried to think through who could have possibly touched it. Daniel sat down and glared at the mirror. He needed answers.
    "Don't ignore me." Daniel snarled. The reflection did not show itself. "I know you can see me, answer."
    After another moment of silence, Daniel opened his mouth to yell when it appeared, laughing. "You look horrible." It mused, eyes raking over Daniel.
    Daniel ignored the remark. "A piece of my chess board has been moved. Who was in here? Answer me!"
    The reflection smirked. "Unfortunately, giving away that information would spoil the game . . . it looks like your time is coming to an end, doesn't it?" Daniel was silent. Once again, the reflection was right. The reflection said he had been ahead, but clearly, he was not in the lead anymore. What did it matter who touched his pieces when he did not even know the number of days he had left?
    "Please," Daniel pleaded, "if you know what is wrong with me, or if there is a cure . . ."
     The reflection smiled darkly. "I suppose I could give you what you're looking for. After all, it would be boring if you died this early in game." The smile grew into a wicked grin. "You are easy to deceive, Daniel. Your remedy was your poison." That statement left Daniel puzzled. Remedy? What could the reflection be talking about? He had seen many healers, and none of their medicines had worked. Not one of them had been able to give him a cure—or even a flicker of hope. There was no remedy.
Unless.
The color drained from his face. Ah. Finally, he understood. His shock turned to anger and he rose to flip the table--but then remembering he had no strength, grabbed the rims of the mirror.
    "She has been poisoning me, and you said nothing?!"
    "I should not have had to. I knew you were not the brightest king, but even I never imagined how dense you could be."
"Easily deceived? Never in my life have I been dense. How is that something I could have known? Who would have thought a stupid, spoiled, foreign princess would have been intelligent and bold enough to try to kill me? When I am the king of Rayland." Though Daniel's eyes flamed with rage, his voice was dangerously calm. "No; because I am king of Rayland. Now that I am aware of what I am up against, there will be no more holding back. For everything she has done to me, rest assured, what I do to her will be far worse." Finally, Daniel understood what it meant to have no limits; he would rid himself of the rules that held him back. He was through with waiting: it was time he won the game. Without another word, Daniel left the room.
   
Angelica stood wide eyed, amazed by what she had seen. There was no longer any question. Daniel was talking to the mirror. From what Angelica could tell, he was ignorant that his reflection was the result of dark magic; that was a relief. She still was one step ahead, but now he knew she had poisoned him. She no longer could fake innocence; Daniel knew full well she was a threat. She had lost her chance to become queen; instead, she would become a target. The reflection had destroyed everything. She had little time to come up with another plan, but if she failed to, her death was awaiting her.
After a moment of weighing her options, she decided she was really only left with one: she would have to speak with the reflection herself. The risk was high, but Daniel would not forgive her for nearly killing him—Angelica's heart was racing as she reached her room and threw open her spell book, desperately flipping through the pages. In the back of the book she scanned the page listed alphabetically until finding the words: Black eyes.
    Black eyes open up your vision to see the spirit world, which few can do with the naked eye. They can be used to communicate with a spirits or otherworldly creatures. However, there are limitations. Creatures summoned with black magic take on different forms in this world. While black eyes give you visual access to what you normally cannot see, it does not remove the disguises these beings choose to use. Therefore, you will not see the creature as it is, but rather as it wants you to. There is potential danger in this, because it can then use its appearance to manipulate you. The being may be life threatening, but you will not know, because you cannot see what lurks beneath the mask. This results in false comfort.
    It took little time for Angelica to memorize the spell.
    The mirror glowed when Angelica entered the room. All this time, a precious and threatening piece of witchcraft had been so close, and she'd been ignorant of it--though she had felt the dark magic every time she passed it. Whatever was in the mirror had been watching her every move for months without her knowledge. She had let a powerful weapon in Daniel's possession go undetected. Anger welled in her—at herself.  
Angelica closed her eyes and whispered the spell.
The lights in the room dimmed, and Angelica startled at what she saw in the mirror. He looked like her husband; with the same black hair and heart shaped lips, large blue eyes and dark long lashes. The only difference was the crazed glow in his eyes and a grin filled with dark amusement, contrasting Daniel's usual frown. For a moment it terrified her, but as soon afterward she scowled. He knew why she was here. He knew what he had done to her plans, and looked at her life falling apart and found it laughable.
    She wondered how many times he had laughed at the lives Daniel destroyed. She gazed into the mirror and thought on it. In Olcarcioway, again and again blatant cruelty was hammered into her mind as immoral—but all she felt was admiration. Months she had spent trying to kill Daniel for power; now, in the reflection's smile, she understood why she had always desired it: because in power, there was freedom. You would never be on the defense; you could give and take as you pleased; people went where you moved them. Angelica glanced over and a slight smile tugged at her lips—because suddenly she saw the chess board in a new light. 
In the reflection's dark eyes alone Angelica saw reality. The truth of humanity was this—sacrificing yourself for others was surrendering you power so another dictator could take your throne. Yet, sacrifice was one of the most moral things a person could do. It was almost hilarious. There would always be evil, and it was foolish to fight it when it could be made your greatest ally. Morals belonged to those who had little to lose or nothing to start with. Though many people embraced them. All you needed was goodness, kindness, generosity, selflessness, and peace; then you could be a good person. Unfortunately, those were all characteristics Angelica did not have—but what would she have gained from those anyway? It was expected that people would say war was wrong when they had no reason to fight. It was reasonable to be against selfishness when the world was in the palm of your hands. Most of all, it was incredibly easy to condemn witchcraft when you were born with magic. For all her family and those she knew in Olcarcioway were not only powerful, but honorable as well. Of course, they would be, they were born in glory; Angelica had to work for it. Bitterness burned in her at the memories, but she refused to care about what she had been given and instead focused in on what she would get. Witchcraft or magic, light or dark, it was power all the same. She would grasp it, and she would rise. She would show every Olcarciowaien that black magic could outshine even the sun.  
    Angelica looked up at the mirror, who in return smiled deviously, "So, finally I meet your acquaintance, queen of Rayland.  I wondered when we would finally speak."
    Angelica was silent at first. She knew she had to be careful. It was obvious to her already the mirror would offer limited answers. Asking in just the right way was important; she knew the reflection would jump at the opportunity to twist the truth and manipulate her.
Angelica thought hard about what to ask. She still did not know the reflection's opinion on Daniel. It was obvious they were not enemies; after all, if the reflection hated him, he would not have told him Angelica was poisoning him. Likewise, they could not be friends, considering how long the reflection let Daniel suffer before finally giving in. So what side was the reflection on--did it even have a side? Angelica shook her head. The side did not matter: what mattered is how much information the reflection would be willing to offer up to Daniel—and that depended entirely on something else.
    "Is Daniel aware of what you are?" The question seemed to ask itself. Daniel did not appear to know anything about magic, but she had to be certain. How much of a threat Daniel was began with what he knew.
    The reflection was amused, "Not a thing; he does not even question my existence. To him, I have simply always been--he does not remember his life without me. I am as normal and essential as air, and without me, he would suffocate."
    Good. He was ignorant. He did not know what risks he was taking. "How much are you willing to tell me?" Another blunt question, but Angelica was not worried. The reflection clearly did not have any affection towards Daniel.
    "I will answer according to how it benefits the game. I am intrigued to see how it will play out, eager actually, and now that you have access to me this will only get more exciting."
    "Can you share Daniel's plans for revenge?"
     The reflection smirked, "Oh right, you were listening at the door. No, I cannot tell you that, but Daniel will only be able to succeed if you do not outsmart him, and I doubt that. I have high expectations for you, Angelica."
    Angelica frowned and asked the reflection again to share the information with her, saying she could not plan around what she did not know.
    The reflection laughed. "Oh dear, you do not understand. I cannot give any one player information that puts them ahead of another. I only help even out the playing field. If I let you win, that would be boring. Eventually one of you will kill the other, but there is no need to rush. I want to draw this out. I am not saying it has to be entirely fair, but there is only so much you will get from me."
    Angelica only stared, dumbfounded. There was no time for games--Angelica wanted to rule Rayland, not play assassin forever. It infuriated her that Daniel--her rival-- likely had the same mindset as his reflection. That he was naïve enough to be this creature's puppet.
And then, it made her glad; overjoyed—thrilled.
Daniel made no real decisions for himself. He was hardly a king, but rather a source of entertainment for this dark creature. Yes, it was possible the reflection could help Daniel kill her. If it wanted, it could give him the entire world. But even after the short period of time Angelica had spoken with it, she knew that was unlikely. Logically, Angelica knew the reflection would only feed Daniel information until it was ready to wipe him out itself. She still could not afford to let her guard down yet, but one mere fact filled her with glee: Daniel was helpless without his mirror, and with it, doomed. If the reflection thought this was a game, so be it, she would pretend this was a game. One thing though made her and Daniel very different: when Daniel went to the mirror, he was the puppet. Angelica was the puppeteer