Inside Pyl’s laboratory, I was surprised to see that both Loralie and the other witch, Grena, were already present. He had redesigned nearly the entire room after our last meeting here, and I was pleasantly surprised at the level of organization I saw. The bones had all been sorted into different bins, stacked atop one another with clear labels. The death crystals were also sorted by size, with stone shelves cut into the alcove that had been created. He had a small library of tomes and scroll, some of which I recognized as material borrowed from my own library, all neatly organized. His table, the one he experimented with undead on, had been moved to the side of the room, where it now lay empty.

The biggest change in his laboratory, however, was an oval-shaped mirror as tall as a man. The frame of the mirror was entirely made from death crystal, and as I approached it, I realized that it didn’t have glass or silver at all. The flat, reflective surface of the thing was also made from the death crystals, though I could see complex necromantic enchantments and layers of witchcraft that created what should be a window. Yet, the mirror’s magic lay still and unmoving.

“Wizard,” Loralie and Grena greeted one after the other, and I realized that I had walked across the room to inspect the mirror without proper courtesy.

Chagrined, I greeted them in return, “Ladies, a pleasure. It appears you three have been hard at work.”

Loralie’s real face smiled at me, while her illusionary form, that of an old crone, huffed and began to berate me. Grena, quickly moved to stand beside her, and bowed her head once, “Lord Fargus, please forgive the old witch. She does not mean ill by her words.”

I glanced between Grena, the illusionary crone, and then Loralie, noting that Loralie’s face was full of barely-contained mirth. I was tempted to smile as well, but wiped it from my face as I stroked my beard. When I felt it contained, I stuck my nose in the air and answered her, “Yes, well, I apologize for my rudeness. I will do no such thing for another’s.”

I could see the real Loralie’s stomach shake and her head bobbed up and down as she laughed silently. Her illusion sputtered and then went to using foul words to insult my lineage, much to Grena’s horror. Pyl, for all his excited talking on the way here, was notably silent and busy looking elsewhere a little too deliberately. Yet, as much as I wanted to continue to play Loralie’s game, I just shook a finger in her direction and turned my attention back to the mirror.

“So, it is complete?” I inquired.

Pyl, seeing his opportunity, jumped back into the conversation with a renewed boisterous volume, “It is! We are able to not only view the Plane of Death, but speak to those within it! There are several safeguards both within the mirror, and on the plane itself that prevent passage through either side. I am currently working on a solution that would allow us to call forth and bind the dead to this world, but it is no easy task.”

Both Grena and Loralie grimaced at his last sentence, but neither said anything.

“I see,” I answered the man as I pondered the workings. Some of the spellwork was unknown to me. I could see the wards implanted into the mirror, as well as the magical barrier on the other side. Calling the dead to this world didn’t seem as though it would be a good idea to me. The souls on the Plane of Death had been placed there by the gods, and my recent encounter left me even more hesitant to risk attracting negative attention.

After a moment of silence, I inquired at the few different magic workings that I wasn’t familiar with and soon we were all discussing how the mirror was constructed. I was fairly confident that I could make my own in the future, so long as I had a witch to cast the few parts that were within their realm of expertise. I could research replacement spells for their magic, but why spend the two decades to do so if finding a witch was so much easier?

Yet, as I considered it further, my reluctance to research different versions of those spells was unlike me. I noted it, but didn’t think any further on the topic. It was only after an hour or two of us discussing it, that I asked, “So, has it already been used? To speak with a loved one?”

The three others in the room went silent, before Pyl scratched the back of his head, “Well… there are a few stumbling blocks.”

“Stumbling blocks?” I asked it with as neutral a tone as I could manage.

Pyl responded, “The dead—the dead aren’t interested in speaking with us. There is nothing we can give them, nothing they want. A few are willing to speak out of boredom, but for most our words distract them from their eternal toils.”

Loralie spoke next, her words filling the otherwise silent room, “We have found that not all dead are there, either. If they worshipped a god, then they went to that god’s domain. If they served the god well, they go to its heaven. If they didn’t serve well, or angered a god, they are sent to one of the hells. The plane of Death is for nonbelievers.”

“Hmmm,” I answered as I thought about the issue aloud. “There is nothing we can offer? No chance to speak with a loved one? News about the world? They have no need for—no, I imagine they wouldn’t.”

“This is one of the reasons I hoped to pull a spirit to this world and bind it. It would have no choice but to share ancient secrets,” Pyl said as he rubbed his hands together like he anticipated a delicious meal. I took note that his ambitions had recently increased, but held my tongue in front of the witches. It was something to address if we had a moment alone.

“Even if we cannot bargain with the dead, I would like to see how the mirror works. Have you thought of a name?” All good magical items deserved a name. If they needed one, I could name it well enough. The Sovereign Planar Communique of Death-Crystal Reflection, perhaps.

“We spoke at length on that before we decided to call it the Dead Mirror, Lord,” Pyl said with a smile. I glanced at the two women beside him, who both nodded along.

I pressed my lips together, so as not to voice my disappointment at the poor naming convention, and waved for them to show me how the mirror worked.

Grena move to one side of the mirror, and pressed a hand onto the crystal frame, her eyes closed in concentration. What I thought would be another spell, or a control word woven into the existing spellcraft wasn’t there. Surprisingly, it only needed an infusion of mana to operate. Then, as that mana went through the death crystals and along the enchantments, the mirror slowly began to glow an unholy purple color. Mana swirled through each crystal that bound the reflective panel, growing stronger and thicker until it shone onto the surface and our reflections faded away.

What replaced our images in the mirror was the view of a different world. The view began from above, showing a ground made of jagged black crystals, no different than that of the mirror. Ghostly apparitions of people, monsters, and beasts they trudged in a giant parade that moved in a continuous circle, like an enormous wagon wheel moving. Our view fell slowly from the sky over the Plane of Death, until we were level with the ground. I could see the ghastly faces of the dead walk past with no regard to our presence.

I was no stranger to ghosts and wraiths. Angered spirits that refused to move on had been something I fought against as an adventurer and researched briefly at the Arcanum. Yet, these spirits were different from those that I had seen before. There was something more substantial about them, even if they offered no immediate threat.

Those spirits weren’t the only things we could see there, either. Many other stranger creatures existed on that plane. Things that I had no name for and the very sight of made me shudder. I didn’t know if my magic would be of any use in fighting them off, but was secretly relieved when they seemed equally uninterested in the mirror.

The four of us watched and discussed what we were seeing for several hours. We tried everything we could think of from illusions to resemble the dead, to bribes and offers, to outright insults and yet were unsuccessful in speaking for more than a moment or two with one of the spirits we saw. It was both exhilarating and frustrating at the same time. Yet, as all things were, it eventually came to an end. The mana provided by the witch Grena faded, and we agreed that we had no additional need for the mirror at the moment.

Before I departed, I placed several powerful wards in the laboratory to prevent anyone beyond the four of us from entering, and anything from escaping beyond. The mirror was a wondrous item, to be sure. It was also a dangerous one, in my opinion. I had seen more than spirits when I was looking into that mirror. It wasn’t that I expected their own wards to fail, it was that I feared it. For magic of this nature, there were many things we didn’t know, and I didn’t want to risk even the slightest oversight.

It had been a long day today, and a long time since I fully rested. If I were to be following Baron Froom’s disciple to travel to another plane on the morrow then I wanted a bath, a good meal, a glass of wine, and a restful sleep.