Several thousand years ago.
"He's a traitor to the realm. The man of mirrors, eh?" The king said aloud to his council members, his voice reverberating along the large hall. All eyes lowered.
"What do we do with him? He refuses to pledge fealty to me or my kingdom. The people worship him. I will not have that!"
A tense hush fell over the table of seven. "Perhaps we can win him over to our side with gold and land, your grace."
The king took a gulp of wine from his goblet and set it down loudly with a snort.
"Then what? The people will want him for a king? He should be put to death." He announced firmly.
Whispers carried through the table.
"But, your grace..."
The king raised a hand up to silence him.
"I've heard enough. Bring the traitor before me." Then as an afterthought, he added, "And bring his mirror as well. One of my wives would love to have it in her chamber."
Chairs scraped along the ground and the council dispersed.
The man was brought into the hall, his arms restrained by two armoured soldiers. "Where's the mirror?" The king asked.
Another guard emerged carrying the costly looking glass. A gasp tore through the little crowd that had formed. The king rose from his throne and climbed down the steps to retrieve the prized object.
"So this is how you know everything, is it? The secrets of the kingdom, aye?"
The man with shoulder-length black hair did not utter a word.
The king's steps echoed throughout the hall, his robes rustling as he walked. Someone rushed into the hall, panting heavily.
All eyes turned towards the entrance. The king's first wife had arrived. That gave him enough time. He swept the guard on his right off his feet and tackled the other one with a kick to the groin. The Man of the Mirror turned and snatched his mirror from the trembling guard who had been holding it. The king stopped moving. Closing his eyes, he smashed the mirror into the ground. It shattered into a thousand pieces. The ground suddenly began to shake. The windows rattled, wind howling fiercely in the room. The shimmer of the glass disappeared.
"Better destroyed than in the hands of humans!" The dark-haired man mumbled.
The people in the court were staring at him with mixed expressions of awe and fear. The man fell to his knees. "Restrain him at once!" The king growled.
Frightened men seized his arms.
The king drew near. He reeked of sweat and wine and leather, not expensive perfumes and oils.
"Who are you?" The king asked, his voice shaking noticeably.
The man looked up, his grey eyes shimmering.
"I am Sebaiden, the Man of the Mirror." The king slapped him across the face with a gloved hand. Blood spilled from the cuts at the side of his lips.
"Lock him up! He's never to see the light of day."
He turned to the crowd. "You're nothing without your precious mirror", the king exclaimed, gesturing at the floor where the mirror had shattered. As he looked at the floor, only one shard was left on the ground. He bent down and picked it up. The shard felt cold in his hands.
His reflection stared back at him.
Except his reflection was grinning when he wasn't.