Kurloz flinched when the mirror was shattered, but otherwise remained still. Rhys was behaving in a way he'd glimpsed every now and then when passing the village tavern - there was always this one old man who had a half empty bottle in hand, bloodshot eyes staring at one thing for long spans of time before switching to others, muttering to himself and so on. Kurloz didn't know the man personally, and his mother didn't know his story either.

So now he sat still, watching Rhys drink whatever was in that bottle before facing the mirror pieces. He started when the walls began to melt, and narrowed his eyes, glancing back at the bottle Rhys had been drinking from.