Mirror, Mirror...

[Padraig]

7th Zi'da, 716

The weather outdoors was growing colder by the trial. A thin patch of ice had formed outside the front door of the apothecary, and upon arriving to open up shop, Mr. Spekkle had made quite the spectacle of himself, running afoul of it. But in spite of the entertainment value, given the prospect of one customer after another dropping, or sliding in throughout the trial, Padraig had erred on the side of better sense, and scattered some salt out front in order to create better footing.

But thanks to a small iron stove in the corner, the back room where Padraig would be working that trial, was nice and warm. He'd brought some extra supplies with him that morning. Mostly, bits and pieces of equipment from his chemist's kit. The trial before, Mr. Spekkle had pulled him aside and wondered if he might use what knowledge he had of alchemy, to create a little something to sell in the shop. Particularly to the ladies with coin to spend, and the will to spend it on vanity. A curiosity.

After the man had elaborated on what he wanted, Padraig had to admit he was intrigued. Could it be done? After giving it some thought, he believed it could. Anything was better than spending his trial peddling hair tonics and face creams in an effort to convince women a little longer in the tooth than others, that the stuff could turn back time twenty arcs or more. Was what Mr. Spekkle had in mind any better? Probably not, but it was a great deal more interesting.

Faith was due to drop by mid morning, and when she did, Mr. Spekkle would tell her where to find him. And true to form, when she arrived, the man smiled, stood too close, and inquired about her trial thus far. From the back room then, from behind the curtain, came the sound of shattering glass, preceded by the thud of what might be a rubber mallet. "You break it you buy it young man!" the more portly man called back. "It was already broken, mister Spekkle," a familiar voice called back. "From the damaged shipment box!"

"You go on back if you like, lass," the shopkeeper said. "He's working on a special project for the shop. It'll make me, us, rich, I'm sure of it." Whatever it was, he didn't elaborate but allowed Faith to come round the counter and through to the back room. Where she'd find Padraig in the thick of it, surrounded by vials, leather pouches, droppers, bottles of oil and...whatnot. And nearby was a large mirror, leaning against the wall. He was wearing a leather apron, a pair of leather gloves, and smiled when he saw her. "It's warmer back here than up front," he said. "There's a pot of tea on the stove though if you like. I'm glad you came by. I could use an extra hand if you're interested?"

[Faith Augustin]

There was salt on the floor by the entrance to Padraig's place of work and Faith was pleased of it. She was concerned, frankly that, without it she'd have landed on the floor. She looked down at the salt on the floor and wondered which of the two men who worked here had put it there. But then, the tinkle of the shop bell announced her arrival and there was Mr Spekkle. She smiled and dropped into a curtsy. "Very good, thank you Mr Spekkle. I just finished my shift at the tailors and I have some time before I start in the restaurant. How are you?" She asked and Famula have mercy on her, he told her. In painstaking detail, pausing only to yell to Padraig about breaking things. His halitosis had gotten no better and Faith wanted to escape but the young woman might always be too much slave, albeit former slave, for her to be rude.

But eventually, he told her to go back and see the man she had come here to see and Faith smiled and nodded "Thank you Mister Spekkle. I hope you don't mind but I was fixing lunch for Padraig and I thought that you'd both be working. This is for you. Please, don't feel like you have to eat it", she pressed a wrapped up package into his hands and exited, even as the man looked down in some surprise.

Skirting around the counter, she went into the back of the shop and smiled at the sight of him. She was wearing a long black skirt and a black jumper, her hair held back loosely and very light make up. The only bit that was even noticeable was the small and delicate stain of purple eyeshadow, placed in such a way as to accentuate the silver blue of her eyes. Eyes which showed her delight at seeing him in no uncertain terms"Look at you. What are you doing?" She wondered as she stepped into the area, putting the package of food down in a convenient space on the table. "Lunch. I made some new relish, see what you think? So, you are breaking mirrors today?" Not quite sure what she was supposed to do, she stepped forward and kissed him on the cheek. "Is that allowed?" Her question was whispered and earnest as she shrugged out of her coat and nodded her head "Tea. Then help. That sounds very fair. Mister Spekkle tells me that you are working on a special project. What is it?" Pouring two cups of tea she came over, handed one to him and sat on a stool next to him, watching him with interest shining in her eyes. "And what can I do to help?"

[Padraig]

One would assume, owning and operating an apothecary as he did, that the shopkeeper would have long ago rid himself of an apparently, chronic case of halitosis. There were plenty of things on the shelves that could have fixed him right up. But if he hadn't, it could be that he either didn't know: a constant proximity to himself might explain it: no one had told him, or he simply couldn't be bothered.

Or it could be, that he was never one to pass up a good meal. And Faith's reputation as a very good cook, hadn't passed him by. Mr. Spekkle was delighted by her gesture, thanked her as she made her way into the back room, and was already unwrapping the parcel as she went.

When she joined him and kissed him on the cheek, Padraig grinned and shrugged. "Who cares? What he doesn't know won't bother him a bit. And as long as I succeed in doing what he wants done, he won't complain." Probably, any profit to made from the venture, Mr. Spekkle would keep himself. At least those samples which were sold in the shop for a premium. Padraig didn't mind though, at least not in this case. It was the process he was interested in, and discovering if he could do it. The food was wonderful, as always, and by now he'd decided that she was a magician in her own right. "Keep that up, you'll see me growing round the middle."

"A little alchemy," he explained, when she asked what he was doing. "My plan is to imbue that mirror over there." The large one leaning against the wall, he meant, "With a little magic. One that will allow its owner to see of themselves, what they most want to." A cosmetic reflection, he meant, not one that allowed the user to see into their own souls, whether they liked it or not. "For instance, they might like to know what they'd look like were they younger or older, maybe thinner or with blue eyes instead of brown. Or they might even like to see how they'd look as a race other than their own."

"I believe I've conceived of a way to do it," he considered. "But it would be an idealistic image of themselves they'd see, due to the ingredients I've chosen. Targeting a particular aspect, youth for example, is a little beyond my skill right now. As is adding a little truth to the mix, causing them to see a less idealistic image of themselves. Or even to see beneath the surface." Maybe later, once he'd gained experience. For now, the goal was to provide a customer with a curiosity that they could look towards, make a wish of sorts, and see what they'd like to see.

"I'll need someone to help me test it. And with a few of the steps, if you don't mind?" he asked. "In order to imbue the mirror, I need a reagent to prepare it. Mirror dust seems the perfect choice in this case. I mean to apply it to the mirror's surface with heat. I'll need to know though if that will dull the reflection. If it does, better to apply it to the outside edges of the glass."

"But there's plenty of mirror pieces here, and a mortar and pestle over on the shelf. Think you could grind some for me? It must very very fine, the consistency of powder," he said. And meanwhile he could work on getting the potion right. He had the ingredients, he only had to get the proper ratio of each, in order for the thing to work as intended.

[Faith Augustin]

Who cares, he asked and Faith glanced at him as he lowered his head back to what he was doing. A little stung by the almost dismissive nature of the question, she bit "Hmm. Let me think about that. Who cares about following rules and what I am allowed to do or not? Oh, I do believe I do. Shocking, I know, considering my previously anarchistic nature and rebellious tendencies, but I'd like to know if I'm allowed to kiss you. I thought it was progress that I asked afterwards, myself." She was mostly amused although there was just a twinge of irritated at the same time, but it was fleeting and gone by the time she continued. "I shan't bother next time and good. I hope you get fat." That bit was definitely all teasing and she pushed the cup of tea over to him with a wicked smile. "I don't hope that at all, my apologies. But I would just point out that my meals are very well balanced. There are a number of ingredients in there which I put in for the simple fact they're good for you. Aid digestion, help keep a good sleep cycle, slow release of energy, that kind of thing. So they aren't unhealthy, I promise." In fact, it was her hope that after a few weeks or maybe a cycle of eating better food regularly, he would feel better physically than he did. That, at least, was the plan.

His description of what he was going to do, though, that caused her to raise an eye and sit back in surprise. "That's. Very clever. You can make someone see what they want to see in themselves. What they wish they were? So, could I try to see myself without this?" She motioned to the swollen and cut lip, which looked better today than it had but was still very obvious. "Or does it need to be something permanent?" Whatever the answer was, it was astonishing and she told him so. But he had things to do and the first job was the grinding of glass. She nodded her head and grinned at him "I am a chef and a baker", she reminded him as she retrieved the mortar and pestle and sat back down, making sure that she was secure in her seat. "I'll treat it like sugar and assume I'm making icing. That has to be ground into the finest possible powder. I did that yesterday, in fact, at work. We're making a bespoke cake which is all white on the outside, but when you cut into it it's seven layers, each one a different colour of the rainbow. I've been making food colouring and grinding icing sugar." She glanced at him and grinned "Living the dream." It was pure irony, she loved both of her jobs and was more than grateful for them both. That she worked ridiculously hard was without a doubt to any sane person, but Faith didn't see it that way, not at all.

Working on grinding up glass, she did it as she did everything. From equations to cooking, knitting to playing chess, Faith concentrated on what she was doing and attacked it with whole hearted determination and a single frown line of concentration in the center of her forehead. She was careful to ensure that she was grinding up the glass evenly and, after a few bits she got up without a word and started to look around "I could help you organise things in here you know, if you and Mister Spekkle wanted it", she offered. It was as close as she'd get to telling Mister Spekkle that his shop was messy because frankly, it was only Padraig that she would ever speak to the way that she did. Around everyone else she was on some strange spectrum between meek and very meek. But not him.She'd considered that more than once and was, as yet, compltely unaware of the flashes of independence which were starting to peek through. Slow steps. Finally opening the right drawer, Faith got the finest sieve that they had and got back to it. She seived out the finished ground glass into a dish, but then put the bits which were too big back in for another go with the mortar and pestle. With meticulous movements, then, she started on the next bowl full. "How much do you need?" Her arms were starting to ache, but that did not matter and she wouldn't allow herself to notice it until the job was done. The only indication at all that she was starting to find it difficult was a deepening of the frown of concentration she wore.

[Padraig]

He wasn't looking Faith's way when she snipped at him. He'd been focused on the vials and beakers in front of him. But as soon as she spoke, he paused and looked back at her with a frown. What had he said or done to set her off? "It's not what I meant," he said bluntly. "You don't have to...I'm sorry," Padraig said then, simply.

The remark had seemed flippant, but in a teasing affectionate way when he'd heard himself say it. But then he remembered. All this was new to her, the rules, or lack of them had changed. Things said then might not be interpreted the same way, as similar things said now. She hadn't yet adjusted and it would take time. On the other hand, the fact that she had gotten her back up was progress. The thought made him a smile a little in spite of it. "I only meant that he doesn't mind. And if he did, I certainly don't."

As to what he was doing? "What they wish to see? What they believe to be true, yes," he confirmed. "But I'm aiming for an intoxicating sort of effect here. A little euphoria mixed with a dash of hallucination." He'd be using crushed, purified psinia seed combined with storm brain and an inert oil to stabilize it, he explained. "But it would be an idealistic vision of themselves. Was I to aim for something more truthful, that might reveal to them things they might not want to see, I'd add mind's eye to the mix. But it's supposed to be a curiosity, not a truth teller. And I've not quite developed the knack to include a third, dissimilar ingredient."

The mention of her busted lip however gave him pause again and he frowned more deeply than before. "It could, yes...in a sense. If you wished to see yourself without it, and without a scar, you would if this goes as planned. But I'd rather you'd not have gotten it at all. The physical wound will heal. It's what caused it, that's what concerns me." Had he expected that she'd choose not to help another in need? Of course not. It wouldn't be her. But it worried him, and he'd stopped short of wishing aloud that she'd not go round alone after dark. Wished it, he still did. But say it, well, there was that tricky place of wanting her decisions to be hers and not his. Still, he'd hinted enough the evening before, that she'd have known his preference.

But they'd moved on and she told him about the cake. He marveled at her talents as a chef. "Did the layers taste different, one from the next?" Which he thought might be an odd combination was it the case. "Or only the colors?"

While she ground the mirror pieces as finely as possible, Padraig worked on the mixture that he'd imbue the mirror with. A little of this, of that and the other thing, added with a dropper in the smallest of doses until he got it right. A bit too much of one? The color went off. Too much heat and the stuff curdled. Not enough and the reaction he was looking for, went completely missing. Trial and error was what it would take.

But when she mentioned the clutter, he smiled and shook his head. "If you straighten things, we'll never hear the end of it. He likes the disorder and would complain afterwards that he couldn't find a thing, ever again until it was put back to rights?" It was a quirk the man had, along with his others. But not for Padraig to complain.

But back to the mirror dust. "I'll need enough to coat, thinly, that wall mirror over there," he said, pointing to the one he'd leaned against the wall. "Plus enough to coat one of the small hand mirrors that mister Spekkle wants imbued. That will be the test before imbuing the larger one."

It took some time more. More for him to be happy with his potion than for her to grind the glass. But eventually he was as content as could be without testing the stuff. So he'd grab the small mirror that Spekkle had supplied him, and went about coating the glass with mirror dust, applied with heat enough to soften it, make it absorbent up to the time that it cooled completely. "Mirror dust acts as a very good reagent," he explained, "and seemed perfect, considering what we're doing here. Once the mirror is imbued and the heated dust hardens, it shouldn't distort the image any."

What it might do instead was create a sort of matte finish to any reflected image, sort of a soft focus effect. In the end, if it did, he thought it would be a nice touch, unlike an ordinary mirror. So he took his time, applying a very thin layer of the dust to the smaller mirror, making sure not to leave any spots untreated, and ensuring that the consistency was right from top to bottom, edge to edge. And then as quickly, but as carefully as he could, he'd imbue the thing with the potion he'd created. And then, the thing would need a few minutes to harden.

Now for the test. Ordinarily he'd have let Faith go first. But because he wasn't completely sure what he'd see, if it was what he intended, he'd rather test thing on himself. "I suspect it's a little like making a wish," he said. "Asking, either aloud or no, to see what you wish to see. And focusing on that wish." And if one wasn't wishing for anything in particular, but looked in the mirror anyway? He supposed the thing might just pick up on a subconscious wish or thought, if it was strongly enough held in that moment.

Regardless, he took the mirror by the handle and smiled. "I might like to know what I'll look like when I'm old and gray." That was his focus when he raised the mirror in front of his face. She couldn't see the reflected, turned as it was, but she could see his reaction. First his eyes widened in surprise. Which turned to fascination as he looked at a much older man staring back at him, mimicking his every facial expression. It was a thrill really, a fascinating one, to find what he'd done looking back at him.

And then he blinked, shook his head and grinned. "Take care when you try it. Too long and there's a sense of feeling intoxicated. Mild, but it's there," he said, and handed Faith the mirror. "Your turn."

► Show Spoiler

Off Topic

Mirror 30 gn, psinia seed 5 gn, storm brain 15 gn - deducted from ledger

[Faith Augustin]

As soon as he looked up and apologised, she completely ran out of steam. Instead, she placed her hand over his and squeezed. "You have nothing to apologise for. I'm sorry, Padraig. I think I just understood what you were saying differently than how you meant it, is all. My apologies", she smiled slightly, though and squeezed his hand again. "And I'm glad you don't mind. I'd be dreadfully sad if you did." Just to make sure, of course, she repeated the gesture and smiled at him. "I'm resisting the urge to apologise again. I don't know what you do to me, really. I've always thought sarcastic thoughts, but with you, they just pop out like peas from a pod. I conclude that you are a bad influence." And long may it continue, she thought with a wistful expression on her face.

But work. Yes. Helping and being useful, those she could do. When he explained what he was using she frowned, trying to remember without him telling her. "Psinia seed? I know psinia clove, which is a poison. Mild, but hallucinations and euphoria. And storm brain? That's very clever Padraig." She couldn't help but be impressed with what he had envisioned, let alone should he be successful. "You will. I don't doubt it", not for a moment did she doubt that he would develop the knack for whatever he chose to. It was an ingenious idea and she told him so.

The deepening of his frown, though, it made her stop and look at him with a level gaze in her pale eyes. He spoke again of it being preferable that she'd not got the swollen lip at all and she didn't disagree. Last night, when she'd come home with it, he'd descended into fussing like she'd walked in with a limb hanging off or something (at least to her mind). Then, there were those clear statements about how unsafe the city was at night, or how it wasn't safe for anyone to walk alone. Watching him, she sat and skidded her stool over so that she was close enough that their knees were touching. "I need to tell you something, and a part of me doesn't want to, but you need to understand." She looked down at her hand which had entwined with his, her face calm. "Just before the whole Qe'dreki thing, Master had taken me to Venora. Tristan", she corrected, an irritated frown at herself crossing her face "When he was there, I heard some information I knew he would want to know. But I wasn't allowed near him, I was in the kitchens. So, I decided that I needed to get on the night shift. That was doled out as punishment, because it is as well as the day, not instead of. I spilled a bucket of water on purpose in front of the overseer. He put me on the night shift, and I could get to Tristan's room, where I woke him." She gestured to the lip. "I looked worse than this a week later, for my trouble. I considered it a success and frankly, it was nothing to worry about then. This seems very minor to me, not really worth mentioning. But what doesn't feel minor is your reaction to it."

She looked at him and smiled an almost shy smile for a moment. "It is an unusual feeling, but far from unpleasant, this one that I'm having right now. It's marred, though, by the thought of you worrying about me. I can't avoid walking home in the dark, Padraig, my shifts finish late at the restaurant. But I know what time I'm going to finish, so why don't you meet me and we'll walk home together?" That was more than fine and reasonable for her. "And other times, I won't walk alone in the dark if I can possibly help it. We'll just plan it better, that's all. I'm happy with that, but only if you want to." It made sense to her, personally and she looked at him with a raised eyebrow to see what he said. Such a lot of fuss for such a small thing but then, she knew, it wasn't small to him.

But then, they fell back into work mode and she watched him as he did things which seemed, to her, utterly magical. The creation of the potion was as much guesswork, she thought, as it was measurement but he measured everything meticulously. She watched in fascination at the care that he used to make sure that the coating was exactly even and considered that she had done something similar when spreading icing on a cake, the trial before. When it came time to test, though, his expression delighted her. She watched him and how he studied the effect. "Is it working? Padraig, that's so very clever." She was enraptured by the look on his face and then surprised when he handed her the mirror. "Me? But. What would I change?" She considered and shook her head. "I don't know. I don't want to use yours in case it's actually just an aging mirror. That will not sell well, you know" She was teasing but then breathed in, closed her eyes for a moment and focused. "Oh! Look!" Her exclamation was nearly a squeak as she gave away at least a damn good clue as to what she'd changed when she flipped her hair "I'm blond!"

[Nymph]

Padraig:

• Knowledge:
  • Alchemy: Basic Necessary Equipment and Protection
  • Alchemy: Unable to Imbue with Youth, Truth, and Ideal Characteristics
  • Alchemy: Mind's Eye as a Reagent
  • Faith: Still Learning How to be Free
  • Mr. Spekkle: Peddles Lies
  
  
  Loot: Small Mirror Alchemically Imbued
  Injuries: None
  Fame: None
  
  Story: 5/5
  Collaboration: 5/5
  Structure: 5/5
  
  Magic Points: You may use all points to magic if you see fit.

- - -

Faith:

• Knowledge:
  • Padraig: Will Get Fat Off Your Cooking
  • Padraig: Allows Me to Be Open and Free
  • Padraig: Has Given You Permission to Kiss Him in Public
  • Alchemy: The Use of Ingredients for Magic
  • Cooking: The Use of Ingredients to Promote Health
  
  
  Loot: None
  Injuries: None
  Fame: None
  
  Story: 5/5
  Collaboration: 5/5
  Structure: 5/5
  
  Magic Points: None

- - -

Comments: Short, sweet, and to the point. I enjoyed this knowing exactly what the item is for. I almost wonder how Padraig would have answered the last of Faith's questions, so an additional post from him to wrap it all up neatly would have been nice, but I will not be docking either of you as the story was pretty much done except for the conversation. Just keep that in mind in the future.

If you feel I've missed anything or if you have questions about your review, please don't hesitate to send me a quick PM. Thank you!