Mirror Mirror Dwarves Novels & Stories

Here, too, glowing crystals provided light, but they were larger and more finely cut, fitted into stone sconces that were beautifully integrated into the walls. Furgus’ smile broadened. The hall was quite lengthy. They passed a number of openings as they marched along it, from which voices or other sounds of habitation wafted. They had gone a short distance when a pair of Dwarves approached from the other direction. Furgus paused as they came up to them. “Ho, Furgus! What have you found in the hole?” The speaker appeared to be an older Dwarf, with an iron grey beard and hair. He was dressed much like Furgus, but his braid was more elaborate. His dark eyes glinted as he looked over Randey and

"What are you talking about, Prince Rauthorn? You dwarves are nothing but crazy shagging, fighting, and drinking machines!" The whole room burst into a chorus of drunken laughter. Prince Rauthorn suddenly stood up, anger in his eyes. "What in hel did you call my people, you white-haired whoreson?" The two stared at each other for a moment and the whole room went silent. They both moved closer to each other by putting their hands on the table and leaning in, their faces nearly touching, then the anger in their faces slowly disappeared and turned into big grins. "You know what, Lord Konoiki? You are fucking right! We Dwarves are shagging, fighting, and drinking machines!"

They wore identical, beautifully constructed leather armour from their helms to the chaps that covered their boots, creating the illusion that they were the same man, but many versions of him. Aurien pulled his braid free of his shirt as he stepped forward. The language that he spoke was not Fae. Dwarvish, I thought. One of the other fifteen tongues he spoke. “The dwarves have a complicated relationship with the Fae,” Daerton murmured in my ear. He had made his way up the wagon and leaned his arms against the back of the bench seat. “Your pretty maid had best keep her head down whilst we’re here or she might find herself tied to a dwarf’s bed,” he chuckled. “Will it be love or hate when the

A tear escaped her eyes but she stood firm, telling herself that it was just an illusion and that she was never going to lose them. Wulfric faced his mirror last. It reflected a powerful wolf king, but beside him were the specters of his fallen kin, shadows of those he had lost. Yet instead of despair, he nodded slowly, accepting the weight of his choices and the burden of leadership. Once they moved past the mirrors, the atmosphere shifted. The air felt lighter, but they remained vigilant, ready for what lay ahead. Soon after the mirrors, they stumbled upon a river. It wasn’t like any river Damien had encountered before. The water was dark and still, almost resembling a sheet of glass that

I turned to see a dwarf, his eyes wide with fear. “Who are you?!?!” he said, his lips shaking. “I would not be so kind as to ask you this question again!” “You can see me?” I asked, bewildered. “Yes, of course I can see you! What do you mean by that? Are you supposed to be a ghost or something?” I turned to the wall; several objects hung there, mirrors and certain materials that had reflective properties. I looked into one and saw my reflection. I was embarrassed. Here I was, walking around like I was cloaked and invisible, only to be seen by this dwarf.

The cave was dark, and the sound of trickling water echoed from within. "We're going in," Siron said. They turned on their flashlights and entered one by one. The cave was narrow at first, then widened into a large chamber with a ceiling of stalactites. In the center of the room stood a large mirror with an old silver frame, perched atop a stone pedestal. The mirror didn't reflect them, but showed shifting images, beautiful landscapes, faces of loved ones, treasures. "The Mirror of Desires," Stefan whispered. Siron drew near. In the mirror, he saw a vision of another self, becoming a respected leader, with Morat and Lyra in full physical form beside him, and Kit...

Every tree, every rock, every gust of wind seemed to whisper of dangers lurking just beyond the horizon. Lia’s wrist-mark had been flaring with more intensity over the past few days, the power within her growing stronger, and yet more volatile. The strange "Mirror Soul" ability—this gift, or curse—was becoming harder to control. Every time she replicated magic, it drained her energy, leaving her weak and vulnerable. But she couldn’t stop. The Heart of the Greykin was still out there, and it was the only hope for her people. At least, that’s what she kept telling herself.

To prevent another war, they had to make a demarcation . For every fairy who live outside, those who live on earth, we have a mirror of transport. So our cover wont be blown open, the mirror transports the house to any part of the world whenever the need arises. The mirror also gives us access to the underworld. We can mate with anyone both humans but we can't give birth to males. The werewolves took the part with lot of fields to enable them go on their weekly run. There are few who live on earth but comes home once every week cause no one is expected to miss the weekly run.

This mirror was his portal to the past, and the only reminder of his cherished memories. He began to work his magic. He cast a spell to summon his memories. The mirror showed a glimpse of his childhood when he was a young boy around 7 years of age, leading a serene life in a small village close to a fishing river. Like every other time, he was taken aback by the pure and unaltered beauty of the world he lived in as a child. It was a long time ago and the memory seemed like another life time. His grandfather was the chief of the Warrior Elves and his clan was charged with guiding the boundaries of the world. Disguised as ordinary nomads, they peacefully lived among humans and their beautiful

The lighting is made of a swarm of fireflies placed in a transparent closed container, the poor fireflies tapping the glass walls, trying to break free. The midget creatures tied the Grace sibling's hands to a dead tree trunk, then hung them like wet clothes. In front of them was a small pulpit which was now mounted by a dwarf with a wide hat, indicating that he was the leader. The other dwarves were still huddling around in a very difficult-to-understand language. "Calm down!" The Wide Hat shouted at the funnel-shaped device. "Look what we found, Gnomes, a pair of intruders!" The creature called Gnome greeted him with great cheers. "What do we gonna do with them?"