Sorin Neculai Antonescu (secondself) wrote in st_margarets, @ 2016-09-21 20:52:00 |
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Entry tags: | character: sorin antonescu, location: under the castle |
Narrative: Second Self Pt. III
WHO: Sorin & Nick the doppelgänger
WHEN: Sept. 22, Autumn Equinox
WHERE: Vacant storage room deep in the castle
The room had no windows and was made entirely of stone. Sorin had lit several candles for light and they burned with small traces of movement in the flames, occasional flickers from phantom breezes that passed through the old castle. This room was the place Sorin went to when he was going to practice his summons. When conjurations were potentially dangerous and he needed a place to contain them, he would bar the door and enchant it with a spell to keep outsiders from inadvertently stepping into harms way. It was a cautionary effort meant not only to keep people out, but to keep things in.
Other witches didn't understand this need Sorin had to summon himself. Nick had proven himself to be a dangerous being. He had malicious intent. First, Sorin had summoned him from a painting of himself that Dana and Sidro made of him. Second, Sorin summoned Nick from a photograph. Tonight, he would try something much more realistic.
The mirror was aged with dark distressed blurs in the reflective surface, but it was polished enough that Sorin looked into his own eyes, seeing himself clearly. Sorin found it in one of the rooms in his exploration of the changing hallways. The mirror was now resting against the wall and Sorin stood beside it, feet braced, fists closed. There was a line of tension in his shoulders that anyone who knew him well would recognize. Sorin was typically easy going. He loved easily and often. He was seen more with laughter and joy in his eyes than with sadness and tragedy that he was entitled to as a survivor of ten years of imprisonment. Survivor's guilt was prominent in forging his purpose, but the post-traumatic stress of his torture by the hands of scientists and priests did not darken his optimism.
The mirror showed it now. Whoever Nick was, whoever he really was, it was tied into that castle, that place. Sorin had to know and he had to make it right just like he had to make it right for every soul he left behind in that dark place. Nick didn't deserve to suffer any more than anyone did.
With an outstretched hand extended towards his own reflection in the mirror, Sorin gathered his power. The candles flickered again with the phantom breeze and a pulse moved through the body of the witch. He might have realized something was wrong sooner if he hadn't been so intent on facing danger head on, but the signs were ignored. The reflection of himself smiled while Sorin did not.
"Veni!" Sorin commanded, the build-up of power enough to work his magic to reign in the image before him. The reflection shimmered, and then from its silver surface, a hand emerged that was a match to Sorin's. It extended further, touching fingertips to the summoner. The echo of laughter came from the mirror and the doppelgänger stepped fully into the real world. A flesh and blood replica of Sorin, who had named himself Nick - his own version of Neculai - was visually the same in every way to the witch except for one. He was a reflection. Tattoos on Sorin's right were on Nick's left. The bad scarring around Sorin's wrists from being shackled and the crook of his arm that had been pierced by too many needles and IVs, the burn marks from Ellie's fire that had gotten out of control, these were reversed, too.
There was something else polarizing about Nick. Where Sorin's blue eyes were filled with the desire to love and understand, Nick's gaze was filled with nothing but hatred.
The candles flickered.
One set of footsteps left the room. The heavy door shut on a dark and empty room. The shrouded mirror within carried the last echo of a scream.
Nick smiled and made his way up to the surface.