[Everyone can ignore this IC - Since Myr is blind he can't make it to the Endless Blue :P ]

Deep within the cave of the Haruspex, there was an un-event. An un-event, is basically when something happens, and yet nothing changes - but the lack of change, is in-itself, a change. Much like the way dowsing a light in turn causes the shadows it had previously created to disappear.

This is what I would have you see, for poor Myrddin can no longer do so.

Once Mauja's welcome-wagon finally had the good sense to get out of his cave, Myrddin had returned. The distorted ripple on the surface of the mirror sent a pang of worry through his old heart, and the fear of what the larger implications were weighed heavily on his old mind. The God of the Spark had told him to watch his mirror closely, and closely he had stayed, for the God's words were nothing but a cruel joke. Still, it had afforded Myr the opportunity to welcome back the boy-king, and while that event struck grandeur in the hearts ands minds of many, Myrddin doubted that was really the end of it. At least as far as the mirror was concerned.

Was his mirror still not cracked?

For hours, Myrddin had simply gazed sightlessly at the mirror; running his gnarled and twisted horn over its surface and feeling the grotesque distortions. It filled him with a sense of cold each time his horn wavered near the incisions, yet it was a mental chill, not a physical one. It gripped him; feeling unnatural and wrong somehow - as if some inherent wrongness exuded from the crack itself. Myrddin didn't believe the God's words were solely of Mauja, as impressive as the frost-king was, he was a blip in time, as the rest of them were. Myrddin's bearded muzzle frowned, as his milky gaze stared into the unseeing blackness that was his vision.

And then the un-event occurred

Precisely nothing around Myrddin changed, and yet the philosopher knew that something had. It was as if he was in a world identical to the one that he had just been in - where each and every atom was numerically identical to the world he just came from and yet...something was different. Hastily, he dropped his head back to the mirror, feeling the gouge still present in it's otherwise pristine surface. For some reason, this was comforting - for if this grotesque and unnatural thing was still with him, then perhaps all was not lost. With a grumble, Myrddin raised his sightless eyes once again, his nostrils flaring. Mentally, his mind wandered, creating visions behind his dark stare: a window, a door, a rose. A door on a beach, which will not open to him, with writing on it. Myrddin knows the word which is concealed in the script, even though the symbols mean nothing to him: unfound.

Somewhere, far back in his mind, another tale spun. A door on a beach. Lobstrocities. The breaking of the beams; The world is moving on.

"Fool." He whispered into the soundless cave.