John forced himself to remain calm as he assessed his situation. It was clear that he was still somewhere in the manor, but he could find no clue as to how he had been transported from the parlour.

On the far side of the room were two large, boarded up windows. The light filtering through was fading fast. He looked down at the dagger in his hand and saw that Udoriol’s light was gone. A chill ran down his spine. Soon, it would be completely dark, making navigating the manor all but impossible, and allowing whatever it was that brought him here to attack him unseen. He walked over to the window and peered out through the gaps between the boards. From the view, he could tell that he was in one of the rooms on the upper level facing the front of the manor.

Nearby, a cloth covered what appeared to be a large four post bed. A desk stood near one of the windows, and a chair. On the far side of the room was a dresser. All the items in the room were covered with heavy canvas, except for a dusty full length mirror. John’s blood turned cold as he recalled the mirror from the parlour. That both were exposed was unlikely to be a coincidence.

“Udoriol?” John shouted at the top of his lungs, not caring that he might attract unwanted attention. Whatever being transported him here obviously already knew where he was. “Grimald? I’m trapped in a room that appears to be on the upper levels.”

He strained his ears but could hear no response and wondered what had happened to his companions. Deciding quickly that he had to rely on his own wits, he moved towards the door, careful to give the mirror a wide berth. However, as he did, he caught his reflection in it, and something seemed off about the way it moved.

Deciding to ignore the mirror, for now, John tried the door. Locked. That wasn’t surprising. He tried to examine the lock but could make nothing out in the gloomy light. While keeping a wary eye on the mirror, John took a step back and kicked the door with all his might. His kick felt weak and landed with a muted thud, but the pain that shot up his leg was very real. The door was sturdily built and hadn’t budged a hair. He then turned his attention to the window. They were high up, but the boards seemed to be easily dismantled.

He looked around the room for anything he could use to pry the boards open. As he did, he unwittingly looked at the mirror. The reflection of eyes in the mirror caught his attention. Something was off about them. Though his mind screamed danger, he found himself drawn to the mirror, and before he knew it, he was standing right in front of it, examining his own reflection.

Something was off about the way his reflection moved. It was as if there was a slight delay. He looked at his features and saw the deep bags under his eyes. He hadn’t slept well since Sarah left. Then, his reflection blinked, but he hadn’t. John jumped, and his reflection did not move, except for its smile, which grew unnaturally wide.

John scrambled back and stumbled, landing on his backside, not daring to take his eyes off his reflection. Its grin widened as it remained standing, right up against the other side of the mirror.

Cold sweat streamed down his face as he raised his dagger. “W… Who are you?” he stammered. His mind screamed at him to get to his feet and attempt to smash the boards by jumping through them and out the window, but his body was paralyzed with fear.

John began to weep with fear as his reflection pushed on the mirror’s glass which rippled as his reflection it stepped. Its grin turned into a grimace, displaying a mouth with rows of needle like teeth. John knew he had to fight or flee, but fear gripped his body like a vice, denying him the ability to move.

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“John, where are you?” It was Udoriol’s voice. It sounded distant. Certainly too far away for him to intervene in time.

His lookalike slowly padded closer. It was in no hurry as it savoured his fear. Its fingers turned into long, sharp talons that it drummed slowly against its thigh.

“John, answer us, tell us where you are!” came Udoriol’s voice again. It didn’t sound any nearer than before.

Knowing he had to fight for his life, John tried to move, but his legs would not answer. Out of frustration, he slammed his fist into the floor. It landed with a muted thud, but the pain that shot through his hand was sharp and shocked his body into action. Able to move his legs again, he scrambled to his feet and held his dagger out before him.

His lookalike raised an eyebrow in surprise and John shouted at the top of his lungs, “I’m in here!”

The sound of distant footsteps came pounding down the corridor, and seemingly too quickly, there was a muted crash against the door.

“Treto, dispel this foul magic!” Udoriol’s voice sounded distant, but moments later, a shimmering sword came crashing through the door. The elf kicked the ruined remains down with a mighty boot and burst into the room with his sword and shield at the ready.

“I hope it’s clear to you which one’s the real me,” John said, having never been so relieved to see the elf.

Udoriol nodded as the pair squared off against John’s lookalike. “Any idea where Grimald is?” John ventured.

“Lads is that you upstairs?” came Grimald’s voice from the level below. Whatever spell that had been muting their voices had been shattered and the dwarf’s footsteps could be heard charging up the stairs.

The lookalike hissed and hurled itself at John. It moved quickly and slashed at him with its claws. A quick spell from Udoriol filled John with a burst of speed, and he dodged deftly while slashing at it with his own dagger. His light filled dagger struck the creature across the arm, drawing black blood.

The creature looked at Udoriol and shrieked. The sound was so loud and high pitched, that it caused Udoriol, who was about to strike, to stop in his tracks. With lightning speed, it darted towards the mirror, but John was in the way. It snarled and swung its claws. John dove out of the way but had the presence of mind to hurl one of his daggers at the mirror, shattering it. Seeing that its avenue of escape was destroyed, the creature looked around the room before hurling itself at John again.

Now unarmed, John grabbed the creature by the wrists, but the force of the impact as their bodies collided knocked him onto his back. As the creature lay on top of him, it snapped at him with its rows of needle like teeth, but John had managed to raise his knee as they fell and used it to keep the creature at bay. The creature was strong, but adrenaline and Udoriol’s blessing helped to prevent John from being overwhelmed.

“What in Jord’s name is going on in here?” Grimald demanded as he burst into the room with his axe at the ready.

John looked up to see that Udoriol had also recovered and had staggered to his feet. The pair exchanged looks and Grimald positioned himself so that he was blocking the door as he advanced on the pair while Udoriol moved to block of the window.

The creature looked at John and took a deep breath. Unable to do anything to prevent it, John took the force of its shriek head on and nearly passed out. Dazed, blinded, and with his ears in agony, he felt the creature leap off him as he struggled to regain his bearings. By the time he staggered to his feet, he saw two Grimalds grappling with one another and was unable to tell them apart.

“Enough of your tricks!” Udoriol roared as he plunged the tip of his sword into the ground. A circle of light shimmered into existence and one of the Grimalds fell to the ground, writhing in agony.

Seizing the opportunity, Grimald picked up his axe that had been dropped and decapitated his lookalike in one clean stroke. As soon as his axe fell, they heard the sound of breaking glass throughout the manor. John watched as Grimald’s lookalike slowly changed into a pale white creature. Its severed head morphed from a bearded dwarf into a pure white sphere that lacked eyes, ears, or a nose. The only feature was its unnaturally large mouth which sported rows and rows of needle like teeth.

“That thing’s a doppelganger,” Udoriol breathed, “Another of the Night Goddess’ servants, and far more powerful than I’m accustomed to seeing.”

Were you scared, laddie?” John heard Grimald ask.

John saw the smirk on the dwarf’s face and looked down to see that his trousers were soaked.