That’s how I found my brand of inner peace. I would go for a run when I was frustrated, and I wouldn’t stop until all the anger was gone. By the time that happened, I was often in a new place. This time, my meditation led me to the catalyst of my current nightmares. I stared up at the warehouse with its broken windows and exposed brick exterior.
I grip its handle as the song of the cosmos sings to me, the blade taking on its many colors. I raise it and begin to cut the mirrors down like foes on a battlefield. The sounds of exploding and shattering glass echo in the empty warehouse, clinking as it hits the floor and scatters. The heavy frames reverberate loudly as they hit the ground, cracking the concrete when it impacts, sending small fragments up into the air.
He nodded and left. I walked over and looked out the windows behind my desk. The sky was cloudy, the tree branches swaying in the wind. I heard a roll of thunder, followed by a lightning flash, and then it started to rain. The weather seemed to match my mood. Sighing, I turned around and stopped when I saw someone standing in the doorway.
With my other hand, I searched my pockets for my potions, wincing when I realized I’d forgotten to bring anything with me from the Underworld. We needed to get out of there—fast. I was powerless on Earth without my magic, and if there was anything amiss, I was defenseless.
“My family? Not all of them give off nice, relaxing vibes. Murderous vibes, yes.”
“What family doesn’t make you want to commit murder? I have the same problem. Get over it.” He pulled me to my feet and shoved me toward the door. “Go upstairs, find a fabulous suit to wear, and go have a little fun. First thing in the morning, we’ll start looking for her again.”
Most everyone joined in the cheers, but gradually, they all started asking the same questions I had. Who had invited all of us, and why did we all come if we had no clue who our host was? The only person who could answer any of these questions was the odd man out.
The lights dimming is the only warning we get. My grip on my wife tightens as I prepare to defend her. My eyes lock on the reflections of the mirrors surrounding us. The golden frames of each are carved with languages, runes, and fractures of religions and magic that are supposed to be dead.