The alley was silent again.
The men who had been blocking Con's path had run away in terror.
Only the faint sounds of the distant festival remained—music, laughter, drums echoing softly through the streets.
But Con didn't hear any of that anymore.
His attention was fixed on the giant mirror standing inside the broken shop.
The air still smelled like dust and broken brick from the explosion he had caused.
Con stood very still.
His heart was beating hard.
Not because of the fight.
Not because of the strange spell he had somehow used.
But because of the mirror.
He didn't understand why it made him feel uneasy.
Mirrors were… normal things.
People used them every day.
Yet something about standing in front of one now made his chest feel strangely tight.
Which was strange.
Because, truthfully—
Con had never really interacted with a mirror before.
There were a few simple reasons for that.
First.
Harun absolutely despised mirrors.
When Con was younger, he had once asked why they never had one in their cottage.
Harun had snorted loudly.
"Mirrors are useless."
"Nothing but expensive glass."
Con had accepted that explanation easily.
Though secretly he suspected another reason.
Maybe Grandfather thinks he's ugly.
Con had never said that thought aloud.
But he had believed it for years.
Second.
Mirrors were very expensive.
The small village near the forest didn't have shops selling luxury items.
Most villagers used polished metal plates if they needed to check their reflection.
But even those were rare.
No one owned a large mirror.
It simply wasn't something ordinary people bought.
And third—
The most obvious reason.
Con was blind.
He had never needed a mirror.
What purpose would it serve?
He couldn't see his reflection.
He couldn't check his appearance.
So mirrors had simply never been part of his life.
Until now.
Standing in front of this enormous one.
The glass surface was smooth and silent.
Lantern light from the alley reflected faintly off it.
Con slowly stepped closer.
His footsteps were quiet.
The broken shop creaked softly around him.
Dust still floated in the air.
Behind him, the alley remained empty.
The strange girl in the hood was gone.
Her footsteps had disappeared while he had been distracted by the fight.
A faint ache returned to his chest when he realized that.
But something else pulled his attention back.
The mirror.
It felt strange.
Not dangerous.
Just…
Familiar.
Like meeting someone you should recognize but couldn't quite remember.
Con hesitated.
Then slowly lifted his hand.
His fingers hovered in front of the glass surface.
He had never touched a mirror before.
So he expected something simple.
Cold glass.
Smooth surface.
That was all.
His fingertips pressed forward.
And passed straight through.
Con froze.
His brain refused to process what had just happened.
He pulled his hand back quickly.
His heart began pounding again.
"…what?"
His voice echoed softly in the empty shop.
He slowly reached forward again.
More carefully this time.
His fingers touched the mirror.
But there was no resistance.
No glass.
His hand simply slipped through the surface like water.
Up to his wrist.
Then his arm.
Con yanked it back instantly.
Fear shot through his chest.
He stumbled back a step.
"What…?"
His breathing became uneven.
Mirrors weren't supposed to do that.
He knew that much.
Even if he had never used one before.
Something was wrong.
Very wrong.
Con stood there silently for several seconds.
Listening.
The mirror made no sound.
The shop remained quiet.
Nothing moved.
Slowly, cautiously—
He reached forward again.
This time placing his entire palm against the surface.
The mirror felt… warm.
Not like glass at all.
More like touching still water.
The surface rippled slightly beneath his fingers.
A strange sensation spread through his arm.
Not painful.
Just strange.
His heart beat faster again.
And deep inside his chest—
Something stirred.
Something old.
Something sleeping.
Con quickly pulled his hand back once more.
His breathing was shallow now.
Fear mixed with confusion.
He had never experienced anything like this.
A mirror that wasn't a mirror.
A spell he didn't know how to cast.
And that strange girl who had made his heart feel like it was breaking.
None of it made sense.
Con took another step backward.
"…I should leave."
His voice sounded uncertain.
But as he turned toward the alley—
The mirror behind him suddenly trembled.
A faint ripple spread across its surface.
Like water disturbed by a falling stone.
And somewhere deep inside Con's mind—
A quiet voice whispered.
Not spoken aloud.
Not heard with ears.
But felt.
Soft.
Ancient.
Familiar.
Welcome back.