"Well lookie here..." you let out a whistle of approval as you hold the tiny ceramic figurines in front of your headlamp. They look ancient; one is an intricate carving of an impish creature, the other of some sort of demonic statuesque female. You smooth the dust off the womanly figure, revealing its faded yet uniquely ornate paint job. A strange sense of arousal grips you momentarily, but you manage to shake it off. Stuffing them in your backpack, you ruminate on the local history of the region, attempting to recall who might've crafted them. Truth be told, the value of such trinkets is entirely lost on you, but you know a stroke of good fortune when you see it.
Bzzzt. Bzzzt. Bzzzt. You glance down at the vibrating oxygen meter strapped to your side and check the readings. -15%- The oxygen levels in this cave have dropped dangerously low, despite its spacious qualities. You think better of pushing your luck any further and resolve to head for the surface. You silently thank yourself as you carefully retrace your steps to find the first of the glow sticks you've laid out for the return trip. Idly checking your oxygen meter once more to find it has dropped yet again. -14%- It wouldn't do to get lost down here for any length of time.
Eventually, you arrive at one of your primary checkpoints; its a steep climb, but you're well prepared for this expedition. Re-attaching your rappel harness to the rigging you've already laid into cliff side, you gingerly begin your ascent. Getting to the top is a slow process, and you find your mind wandering to past explorations. Much of your adult leisure time has been spent delving deep into the heart of long forgotten caves and condemned buildings. Something about the eerie tranquility of an abandoned home or an untouched cavern has always called out to you. Your sense of adventure seemingly always got the better of you, but rarely did it pay off monetarily. You smile to yourself in prideful satisfaction, hoping the figurines will be worth a small fortune.
It's a long haul back to town, but your careful planning has paid off and you make good time. As you stroll through the entrance, you catch the delicious scent of food wafting through the air and become suddenly mindful of your own hunger. You gaze up at the sun and and realize that most of the local shops will soon be closing. Pushing your ravenous appetite out of mind, you decide to seek out the town's local antiquarian in pursuit of your payday.
Asking around a bit for directions, you eventually find yourself standing at the entrance of the antiquarian's quaint shoppe. Gazing at the exterior displays, you see all manner of strange knick-knacks lining the glass panels; from stuffed animals to eggshell porcelains. "No doubt about it...this is certainly the place." You approach the door and give it a pull. As you enter the establishment, a small bell dangling just above the door jingles to notify the shopkeeper of your potential business. You walk about the shoppe for a few awkward moments, eyes darting around aimlessly, unsure which oddity to fixate on. Several minutes pass, and as you find yourself on the verge of vocalizing your lack of service, a stooped old crone emerges from a back room. She slowly hobbles her way to the counter and struggles to hop into a deep cushioned seat that is just tall enough to bring her hands over the counter top.
"Why hello there, young man!" She squawks, baring you a gaping, (mostly) toothless smile. You give her an uneasy smile back and nervously begin fumbling around your pack for the figures. "What can I do you for?" she says, licking her lips and peering over the counter intently. "Well, I found these old figurines..." you drag off the sentence as you continue to rummage through your belongings, "...and I was hoping you might be able to tell me what they're worth."
She gives you an appraising look, "Is that right...? Well, where are they?" You furrow your brow in frustration, spilling the contents of your backpack on the floor. "I-I don't know! They were right here and now they're..." you fumble about your pockets, desperately trying to find the misplaced objects. "They're gone! How is that even possible? I carefully bundled them in this flap here." You say, pointing to the main compartment of your backpack.
The woman chuckles, brushing a few loose strands of her graying hair behind her. "Some things lost don't wish to be found. Did you ever consider that?" "Of course not-" you snap back, still struggling with the equipment you've strewn about the floor. "That's completely absurd."
"Is it? I wonder..." She muses, pulling a crystal hand mirror out from beneath her robe. She looks intently into it for several moments, as if scrying into another reality. You look up confusedly to her as you finish collecting your things. "I can help you find that which you seek," she says, averting her gaze from the mirror to meet yours. "-but you should know...some doors, once opened, can never be closed again."
You grow tired of this hag's riddles, and brush her threats off absently. "So you're telling me...that mirror," you say, idly pointing to the beautiful crystal object in the woman's hand, "-can help me find my lost relics?" She grins wickedly, nodding. "That, and more...so much more." she says, pressing the hand mirror into your palm. "Take it with you."
You furrow your brow at her, frowning confusedly. "...and why just give it away? Is it not something you value intensely?" She gives you a knowing look, weighing her words carefully before responding. "It always manages to find its way home when the time is right. For now, consider it a gift to you, my most eager prize." Her words send a chill down your spine. Clutching the crystalline object in your hand, you warily exit the shoppe.
What did she mean by all of that? If you didn't know better, you'd say the lecherous old bat was trying to score with you. You snort to yourself, shaking the strange and oddly arousing imagery from your mind, and set out for home.
Once there, you fumble with the door key until you hear a satisfying click. Idly, you place the hand mirror on your kitchen table, and immediately go for the cupboard. Your stomach rumbles with famishment as you realize that you'll have to make due with the meager supplies on hand.
Minutes pass, and as you begin to prepare your dinner in earnest, you feel a pit growing in the deepest parts of your mind; a different sort of hunger. In truth, you haven't been able to get the mirror out of your mind since you relinquished hold of it. You look back to it on the table longingly. "What's wrong with me?" you question aloud as you approach the mirror and fondle it between your fingers. Gazing intently into it, you feel a deep, soothing sensation; a sense of belonging and peace that you've never felt before.
Weakly, you move to sit on the floor. You press your back against the counter as you covetously rub the crystalline fragments that gild the mirror's edge. As you continue to stare deep into the bosom of this magical artifact, your reality begins to fractal before you. The lines blur, the colors melt, and you feel yourself slowly slip from consciousness...