A FLICKER OF MOVEMENT crossed his reflection. Yves stared, now observing the mirror intently through his second sight. Nothing should be on the other side. No one should be able to follow him. But he was a Lightshifter, which meant that he did not believe in the tell-tale trick of the light. He had caught the attention of someone.

  He had just returned from the mirror world, the dimensional plane of shattered energies that he accessed through his ethereal mirror. It was crafted from stolen knowledge and forbidden magic, infused with a witch mother crystal half ball that carried both a dragon heartstring and a moon shard.

  Through arcane incantations and glass magic, these artefacts allowed Yves to transgress dimensional planes. He had done so many times, but he had never encountered a sentient being in the mirror world, let alone another wizard. Now, however, he felt the emergence of a powerful essence that was not rooted in his reality. He felt it within his mirror, as if someone was standing right where his own reflection stared back at him, the threatening presence growing stronger with each passing moment. And then his reflection grew dark and distorted, a silhouette of shards and shadow pressing itself against the glass and speaking mute words that made the glass tremble.

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  Yves shot forwards and dislodged the crystal half ball from its socket, thereby breaking all ties to the other plane. As he did, the presence disappeared, leaving only Yves’ own, horrified reflection staring back at him.

  Yves did not need to call out. His familiar, a sleek pathera named Midnight, had already returned to his side. Without a word, they left their cave accommodation for the lighthouse.

  At this moment, this story is a tale yet to be spun, merely the initial two pages of a narrative that will be my constant companion in the weeks ahead. Dear travellers, I invite you to walk alongside me as we traverse the landscape of fantasy and reality to see the Glass Wizard World emerge – a realm where the boundaries of imagination are but distant echoes.

  Thank you for reading. Your presence is greatly appreciated.