The Mirror

Do not go gentle into that good night,

Old age should burn and rave at close of day;

Rage, Rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know the dark is right,

Because their words had forked no lightning they

Do not go gentle into that good night.

-Dylan Thomas

The tides of the sea follow the lunar cycle. So do the tides of a city change with the whim of our moons. Lately, our Sister Moons have seemed cruelly precocious. Ar, its citizens and denziens have been in a certain state of uproar and unrest. Initiates search the nights skies for answers. Their double knowledge leaving them lost in a star-less night, leading them only to the mortality of a She Killer. I listen as I walk through crowded streets, to their heartfelt pleas without shame or sympathy. My path and new found persona will take me once again to the Administirial Offices. Tonight I do not go as Oman Khan the Assassin, I do not go gently into this night. I am She.

The mirror I own has been my constant companion. A true friend who tells no lies, and houses all of my demons. This mirror reveals secrets that are only for me. She keeps Earth, Wind, and beloved Fire close for my call in times of need. Too, she houses The Apothacary, The Golden Dancer, Oman, and now She. I only need look within to find them all their in the reflection waiting for their time to come forth. As I sit before this pane of ornate glass I am succumbed to a will not my own.

Tonight I shall bask in Black. I will let it warm and comfort me for soon the Brothers will know glory. On this night of the waning moon I will murder two men of the Council of Ar. Their bodies will be found hanging on the steps near the Great Square, arms out and feet bound in black hemp. They are ascended to the cause.

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