When Yanavik finally came across Sigfried, she had come to expect the worst once the gnolls started tearing their way through the many citizens of Vanderin. The reeve was no fighter, while he did carry a shortsword on him for simple self defense he wasn’t taught how to use it beyond the utmost basics.
So, though she refused to admit it, she wasn’t too surprised to see his corpse lying in the middle of the street. What did surprise her was who had killed him.
Simply put, it was the reeve himself. The same figure, the same clothes, the same eyes. The only thing that was different was instead of a shortsword the imposter wielded a small tanto in either hand.
As soon as Yanavik had cast a gaze upon the figure of the reeve, it turned to her in an instant with a wicked smile donned across its face.
Acting purely off of reflex, she cast a hand forward and fired a bolt of fire from her fingers. However the figure leaned to one side and seamlessly dodged the bolt before dashing forward at immense speed. It managed to cover the distance between them in a few seconds.
As the imposter raised it's hand back to stab a tanta into Yanavik, she stepped back and put her fingers together and facing them toward’s the figure's face. “Manus Ardenti.” She chanted as a wave of flames flowed from her fingertips and washed over the figure.
She expected to hear screams of agony as the figure burned to death, instead, all she heard was the hearty chuckle of glee from the false reeve.
As the flames dispersed she saw that the imposter was completely unharmed. Around his body, as if it were a second layer of skin, she noticed flickers of pale green light that glistened like fragments of a mirror.
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“Well, that was impressive. I didn’t expect some old crown like you to know magic.” The imposter spoke in a perfect imitation of the Sigfried’s voice.
A moment later it dashed forward again.
Yanavik gritted her teeth as she thrust her arms forward to carve a sigil into the air. However then a flying tanto shot forward and embedded itself into her shoulder. As one of her arms twitched and fell limp, the sigil she had been tracing faded away.
Suddenly, the imposter stabbed their remaining blade into Yanavik’s chest and pinned her to the ground and knocked her glasses askew on her face.
The imposter flared a wicked grin as they pulled the tanto from Yanavik’s shoulder and raised it again.
Quickly, the old mage put a hand to the false reeve’s chest, discharging as much mana as she could into them. “Fulgur Pila.” She shouted as a large burst of yellow lightning pulsed across the imposter's body.
The layer of green fell off of him as it absorbed part of the spell before shattering like glass. Then the imposter wailed out in pain as its body began to burn and scar from the lighting.
Once the shock subsided the imposter looked at Yanavik and gripped its tanto. “Annoying old lady.” They muttered before stabbing the tanto into Yanavik’s chest.
Yanavik’s hand fell to the ground as her vision immediately began to blur. “Who…. are… you?” She muttered out between her final gasps of air.
The wicked smile returned as the figure stood up and retrieved its weapons. Then, Yanavik watched in horror as their body began to morph. Not into some hideous beast, or a humanoid with thin pale skin like she remembered could alter their form, but to a middle aged woman with brown hair and streaks of gray lining it. She wore a dirty royal blue uniform with golden rimmed spectacles atop her eyes.
Yanavik’s body went cold as she saw herself staring back at her with a sly grin. The figure put a hand over its mouth before speaking in a perfect replication of her own voice.
“No one in particular.”