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cover the mirror

All the world is made up of layers, darling: the ground we walk on, the skies above, the bodies we inhabit, mana's strata, our psyche, our relationships -- there's layers to everything. But there's this misconception, especially with people, that the more layers you peel away, the closer you get to the truth, as if the core of a person alone was their truest representation. The truth (or at least a concept closer to the truth) is that every layer has its importance and its place in the whole, including the veils and masks used to hide the uglier parts.

[break][break] So don't be too upset when I don't tell you everything, hm? That's important.

[break][break] My first precognitive vision happened sometime when I first started hearing my familiar's voice. Though I wasn't sure of its validity at first, there are only so many times you can dream of being stabbed by your father, whiskey on his breath and a looming shadow in his wake, without questioning whether there's something more to it than an unbridled imagination. I would discover the irony of the situation much later: while I was seeing flashes of what I believed to be my own murder, my father's scrying was indicating that he would be murdered by me. We were the only two people living in our household and had a strained relationship at best, so naturally these divinations seemed entirely reasonable to the both of us.

[break][break] Our interpretations turned out to be only partly correct. He did try to kill me in a drunken panic and managed a fairly deep cut, but I (if you haven't noticed already) managed to survive, and the fatal blow to him was struck by my dear familiar rather than myself. Had neither of us suspected the other, I doubt the vision would have come to pass -- not so soon -- not so violently.

[break][break] We diviners are just puppets, love. Our strings are in the hands of whatever force is behind this power. It can predict events dependent on thousands of different wills, actions, and chance, so surely it knows the consequences of showing these predictions to its chosen pets.

[break][break] Divination is no gift.

[break][break]

hide in your dreams

We Greys have a reputation in Salem, though not for any respectable reasons. We're pests: con-men, traitors, snake-oil salesmen, and thieves. Though the blood of seers is known to run thick in our veins, so to does the blood of deception.

[break][break] And a lying seer, you'll find, is as valued as a medical kit full of poison.

[break][break] My father, scorned by the masses long before I was born, had raised me in a backwater town away from the clamor. There were no magical sensors or powerful runic barriers like you'll find in the larger cities, so escaping from my crime was simple enough. Break the locks, smear a bit of blood, don't touch the valuables -- make it look like a monster more fitting of nightmares came through. Hid in the forest a few days before slipping on a cart of exports headed straight to Sundial.

[break][break] Though I have little pride in it, I do live up to my family's name. I was good at taking what I needed and selling meaningless truths that I saw in pools of water and blood. There is little secrecy in the city, however, and I had used my magic flippantly without knowledge of the sensors or licenses involved. It was just a few years before I was apprehended. Just as soon as I was taken, however, a man who I'd only seen once before in the surface of a cup of water in my holding cell appeared to pick me up. He knew my name, and I knew his. I knew he had come to chide me for forgetting a license which I'd never owned, and he knew that I would play along with his ruse.

[break][break] Without so much as a single question or inquisitive glance between us, I was released from holding and granted ("returned", we claimed) a license with my name and the name "Silvertongue" written across the top in a lovely script.

[break][break] My new coven lived up to its reputation: driven, efficient, and ruthless to the end. I, at the time, was merely a teenager with rare and inexplicable powers, so if you have any brains at all you can imagine how that turned out for me. I began to owe a web of debts which money alone couldn't pay off, pulling me into activities which I would have much rather avoided.

[break][break]

forget what they told you

I woke up one day, after a task which left me nearly drained, in an unfamiliar home, laying on an unfamiliar bed next to an unfamiliar girl (about my age) drawing unfamiliar markings on my arms. It was a very unusual situation, and, as we began to talk, I learned she was a very unusual girl. Even so, I decided to stay with her for a time before returning to the coven. She, for reasons I cannot begin to fathom, happily allowed me to stay.

[break][break] Although the others from my coven would firmly disagree, the decade or so that I spent with her was cut far, far too short.

[break][break]

forget what it means

I likely would have thought she was a wishful dream had she not left our child in her absence. Selfishly, I wanted to stay with our child, but I knew the protective runes she'd put on my skin would fade. I knew I would be found. I had seen it so many... so many times, and I couldn't...

[break][break] ...

[break][break] There's some things that can't be changed.

[break][break] Some things that can't thrive when you hold them too tight.

[break][break] She's safe now that I'm not around and her memories from before are locked away. Though my creditors have all met truly unfortunate and purely coincidental ends (do not listen to the advice of a lying seer), I think it best for me to stay away. After all, with me back in the coven and under the gaze of the world my name's starting to mean something again. Not from visions as much anymore -- not since I've been drowning them out -- but certainly nothing respectable, I assure you.