Prologue
The man stepped out into the moonlit alley, pulling the collar of his dark trench coat up to his ears. The white mist of his breath fogging up his vision a bit as he turned onto the deserted city street. The only sounds that could be heard were those of his foot steps on the cold pavement, and the hiss of old water pipes. He pulled his hands out of his deep pockets, and in one was a shard of what looked like an old mirror. The moon reflected off the shard as he drew blood from one of his fingers. The man held his hand over the mirror and let a drop of blood silently fall. The single drop disappeared into the smooth surface, and after a moment ripples of silver resonated from where the blood had been. The image slowly came into focus. A dark room with a single candle on a small table. The candle bathed the back of an intricately carved chair in dim, flickering light. The man swept the street for anyone that could be listening in. He was alone."I'm on my way back sir," the man said quietly into the mirror. There was no vocal reply, but three resonating raps on the wooden chair; that was enough. The candle-lit room vanished into more silvery ripples, and a hallway of deep red replaced it. The man touched the now cold surface of the mirror, and evaporated into thin air, leaving nothing behind...
