A dusty and cracked mirror sat in the corner of the attic. The golden frame was tarnished and the silver glass was smeared. No one had payed it any attention for what? A thousand years? The mirror had lost track since the civil war, when Rivky had taken him up into the hidden attic and left him there so no one could steal him. It wasn’t as if he could stop anyone himself. His spells were tired and his magic drained. No one had the power to change him now.
Rivky was probably dead. He had grieved over her, because if he had not been a mirror, he would be with her now too. Not in an attic with almost absolutely nothing occurring. Every once in a while, there would be a spider which he would, fascinated, watch until it went away or died. They were mostly unnerved by the talking mirror, so used to talking with himself that he would burst into a story and they would skitter from their webbing. Instead of talking lately however, he had humored himself by sleeping. When he woke up, everything looked the same as it had before. He wasn’t missing anything. Even if his naps took twenty five years.
He remembered dutifully serving his king and queen. He remembered when Rivky came in the envoy of ambassadors, how she had stayed, how they had fallen in love. Sometimes he remembered the sorcerer. He remembered how something he had done had angered the other man. Maybe he had done nothing. Perhaps there was no reason. Perhaps it was simply his fate to become a mirror.
The queen had left him in his position. His brain was not altered, he could still serve them. The king had taken pity on him, giving him further servants for transportation and other necessities. He loved it most when Rivky took care of him. He had savored the long talks they had even now, remembering each word so as to not go crazy.
Despite it all, the fact was she had hidden him in the attic of a tunnel room so the revels would not try to take him for his gold and silver, for the jewels adorning him.
“I’ll be back for you,” she had whispered to him.
But she never did.