Tyura stalked towards the lone mirror, prowling in on herself while a lacy red dress fluttered out behind her. The backgrounding darkness was held back by dim firelights that did not flicker. The mirror's edges carried a vignette of black powder that only added to the sinister look of her approach.

The closer she got to the glass, the more of a predator she felt. The sight was enticing to her, as if she came across a forgotten creature she had already hunted. She crept on until she was within arm's length of herself.

Her dress was sleeveless though on her wrists were two lacy cuffs with a red as dark as clinging blood and they hugged the back of her palm as her fingers trickled against the surface. Within a reflection of a reflection of a reflection of the reflection of her eyes, she saw fear. She didn't want to be the prey. She wanted someone to help her. She wanted anyone out there, capable of listening in on her thoughts, to wake from their slumber and save her. The needles she wielded in one ready arm felt like they were pointed the wrong way as she pitted them against the person on the other side of the mirror.

Tyura watched the fear with curiosity. Why were her victims always so fearful of her? Her magic could keep people alive, so what were they afraid of?

She hadn't noticed before, but there was a smile on her face that her reflection copied.

What's this? Her victim wasn't so afraid after all. See? It's not so bad, right? You'll be fine. You'll have your whole life ahead of you.

In the next instant, there was a violent clash of glass on glass as the mirror shattered by her hand. The shards fell to reveal a sacred jewel of aquamarine holding enough power to take out a nation.

Tyura turned her back to the gem without giving it even a fraction of consideration nor a segment of what was left of her mind.

As she strolled off, a single loose shard fell from the mirror's edge and leaned on its side against the floor enough to catch sight of the carpet of victims Tyura had worked through to get to the mirror. The reflection showed warriors struck by individual glowing needles the shade of hellfire that channeled through them enough pain to obliterate a nation. Each warrior was kept alive by her magic but forced to suffer through her embedded curse and as they all agonized through a unanimous pain, and watched a blurred Tyura stalk off into the night, all of them shared a single, unanimous thought:

"What on earth did she come here for?"