Free Celadonian Tales Vol: 1 Blood and Brass by Walter Shuler

everyone, so I'm told. What do you see?"
    Bran shook his head, looking away from the Mirror with difficulty. "What is this thing, Davin?"
    "The Mirror? It is an ancient thing, an heirloom of our House, brother. Within, the wise can discern greater wisdom and the bold can find power!"
    Bran was almost close enough to strike, just a few steps more. "What do you see?" Davin demanded.
    "Nothing," Bran lied. He closed the last few feet in a sudden sprint, sword rising for the attack. Davin, caught off guard, barely got his own blade unsheathed in time to fend off the blow. He was faster than Bran, though, and quickly went on the offensive. Davin smiled as he attacked, but it was a sad smile.
    "I suppose you dying here will serve just as well as the original plan," he said, sending his slender blade in against Bran's guard.
    Bran blocked the attack, and cut low, aiming for his brother's unprotected legs. Davin danced back, just out of reach.
    "Stop this madness, Davin!" he urged, wading in and pressing Davin back. The pent up rage and frustration of his captivity lent his attack new speed and strength. Davin struggled to keep the flurry of blows from landing, using all of his superior skill and training to twist, dodge and block.
    "It cannot be stopped now, brother! I must have the means to protect Celadon, don't you see?" Davin frowned, perspiration standing on his brow.
    "This is not the way!" Bran continued to press the attack.
    "You're wrong," Davin growled. "It's the only way!"
    He smashed Bran's rusty blade aside and lunged for his midsection. Bran stepped back, avoiding the blade, but catching his heel on a stone. He lost his balance and fell, striking his shoulder on the edge of the Mirror. Davin quickly stepped forward, sword pointed down and held two-handed before his face. Bran watched in horror as the blade descended, seeing his death in that shining steel. Before it could connect, he twisted to the side and kicked out hard with one booted foot.
    Bran's boot caught Davin in the ankle, sending his brother toppling over. As quick as thought, Bran was on his feet. He kicked the blade from his brother's hand, sending it skittering across the stone floor.
    Davin would not be caught so quickly, though. Mimicking his brother, he rolled away before Bran's blade could land. Davin retrieved his blade and launched another attack more quickly than Bran would have thought possible.
    Bran was pushed backwards once more, Davin's blows coming faster and faster. His brother's face twisted with hatred, his lips pulling back from his teeth in a feral snarl. Blow after blow Bran deflected, but Davin always forced him backward. He risked a glance behind and saw the darkness of the Mirror only a few steps away. Davin was herding him toward it; within the blackness, the strange man still waited, smiling.
    Davin's fury did not abate – he pushed forward hard, keeping Bran off balance and unable to take the offensive. Bran's retreat was suddenly blocked, something hard pressing against the length of his back. The Mirror, he knew; there was nowhere left to run.
    Davin growled, a guttural sound of hate and rage, and sent his blade slicing forward. Bran twisted desperately to the side and Davin's blade ripped through the cloth of his shirt. Before Davin could free his blade from the folds of cloth, Bran brought his own sword around in a sweeping arc, the blade biting deep into Davin's unprotected neck.
    Davin stood still for a moment, a look of incomprehension on his face. His mouth opened, lips working as he tried to form words, but no sound escaped. His sword clattered to the floor and Davin followed his blade, crumpling at Bran's feet.
    Bran stood there, shaking, his breath coming in heaving gasps. He stared down at his brother's body, not truly daring to believe that it was over.
    "Well done," a voice hissed behind him, almost in his ear. Bran whirled and stepped backwards, over Davin's body. The strange man in the mirror applauded slowly, his