Showdown in the Hall of Mirrors
Vincent seemed ready to strike when Heather babbled something he couldn’t understand, and the man took the moment to introduce the two of them. Alex recognized him and he scoffed. “Yeah well you weren’t looking so great just a few minutes ago, in fact I think you looked worse.” He was ready to spit out more words, agitated by the situation, his mood made even worse by the pain jolting through his back where the glass from the mirror had become embedded in it. Heather cut in in the nick of time, uttering a line that caused him to stop dead, jaw falling open.
“I…” He looked stunned, in awe of her tact. Finally he laughed, a shortlived but genuine laugh. “Alright fine, you got me there…” Sheepishly he looked between Travis and Alex, mumbling a half-hearted apology to the both of them.
“She’ll be fine.” He sounded sure of himself, sighing. “So will I if someone would be so kind as to dislodge the mirror from my back.” He hissed the last bit with an edge of pain to his voice, finally letting it show that it hurt.
“Afraid I don’t have anything either.” During the course of the flying conversations, Travis had been completely lost. He had given up half-way when Heather had passed some inside joke to Vincent. Not wanting to ask stupid questions, the reserved old man had a look at the injured girl on the ground. Backing away from the group, Travis searched the surrounding area, miraculously coming up with one, lone first aid kit. He passed half of the box to Alex and hoped he had the sense to clean up whoever needed it before coming forth to Vincent.
“It’s fine.” Travis said, shrugging with the apology. The man knelt behind the half-creature, careful not to step on his tail. With as minimal gauze he could use, the man wrapped around the mirror shards and took a deep breath.
”It’s gonna hurt.” Travis muttered. He slowly counted to three and then began to pull the mirror out from his back; quickly clogging each wound with a bandaid (or something similiar) whenever he dislodged a piece.
“So… what are you folks doing here?”
Focusing on herself for a moment, Heather rubber her face off, her once orange wrist band now slightly darker. The two of them seemed to be completely in the dark about the situation, and she really didn’t see the point in pressing the matter any further. They were in the dark, and she trusted them greatly so as far as she was concerned they could move on.
And thankfully she had, stopping Vincent dead in his verbal tracks. She didn’t want any more blood shed here. There were no more monsters, thus the battle had no need to continue any further. She felt a twinge of regret as he mentioned the glass. She… really didn’t want to touch it. It was bad enough simply being here at all. Relief passed over her as she saw the first-aid kit. Should the kit come her way, she would decline. She didn’t want anything wasted on her.
That question… she felt like she should answer but knew Vincent had a better grasp on the subject. Instead she let her gaze wander down the mirrors, she shivered and looked back to the group. She couldn’t take it. The sooner she could leave the better. Perhaps after this she would finally go to the monastery and finally confront her … mother. The thought didn’t seem right, she felt like it was a trap, but how could it be? Releasing a sigh she knew it would have to happen. And now was as good a time as ever.