The first mirror sold before noon.
I didn't see it happen.
That was deliberate.
Eldren insisted that I stay away from the initial exchange not hidden, exactly, but distant enough that no one could claim the product was some childish novelty backed by a duke's indulgence. The mirror had to stand on its own. Its price, its presentation, its silenceall of it had to speak louder than my presence ever could.
So I waited.
From the upper balcony overlooking the reception hall, I watched people gather.
Not crowds. Never crowds at first.
Nobles moved differently from common folk. They didn't rush. They orbited. They drifted toward interest the way moths pretended they weren't drawn to flame. One would stop near the velvet-draped table where the mirror rested upright on a carved stand, pretending to admire the tapestries behind it. Another would pause mid-conversation, eyes catching their own reflection before they meant to.
Then they would freeze.
Every time.
Mirrors existed in this world, technically…but only in fragments. Polished metals. Distorted reflections in still water. Expensive crystal pieces so warped they were more novelty than tool. Clear, faithful reflection was a luxury bordering on myth.
Eldren's mirror was none of those things.
It showed you exactly as you were.
Wrinkles didn't soften. Jewelry didn't glow brighter than it should. Scars didn't fade into suggestion. It was honest in a way that made people uncomfortable.
That discomfort was the hook.
I leaned my arms against the cool stone railing and watched Eldren work.
He had cleaned himself up, barely. His coat was still worn at the cuffs, his hair tied back with a string rather than ribbon, but he stood straight, chin high, eyes alert. He looked less like a back-alley schemer and more like a man who knew something you didn't.
Which, in this case, he did.
"This piece," Eldren was saying calmly, one hand resting near, but not touching the mirror, "is not for everyone."
A noblewoman scoffed softly. I recognized her crest. Minor house. New money.
"Oh?" she said. "And who is it for, then?"
Eldren smiled, not wide, not smug. Just enough.
"For those who care how they are seen," he replied. "And those who understand that perception is power."
That did it.
She stepped closer.
I exhaled slowly.
Nibbo, standing beside me, clicked his tongue under his breath. "He's good."
"He's motivated," I corrected quietly.
Below us, the woman leaned in, examining the frame, the clarity, the way her eyes met themselves without distortion.
"And the price?" she asked.
Eldren didn't answer immediately.
That pause was important.
When he finally spoke, his voice was steady.
"One hundred gold crowns."
A ripple went through the hall.
Not outrage. Not disbelief.
Calculation.
The woman's lips parted. Her eyes flicked around, checking who was listening, who might be watching her reaction.
"That's obscene," she said, but her voice lacked conviction.
Eldren nodded. "It is."
Silence stretched.
I watched her reflection instead of her face. Watched how her posture straightened, how her chin lifted unconsciously as she stared at herself.
Power liked to be seen.
"And?" she asked.
Eldren inclined his head slightly. "Payment upon delivery. Limited quantity."
"How limited?"
"For now?" He smiled faintly. "One."
That sealed it.
She didn't haggle.
I felt something tighten in my chest as she signaled her attendant.
The first mirror left the table wrapped in silk and carried like a relic.
Only then did the murmurs begin.
By mid-afternoon, there were three inquiries.
By dusk, Eldren had declined two offers higher than the original price.
Scarcity, I realized, was louder than gold.
That night, we gathered in one of the unused sitting rooms near the inner courtyard. The windows were open, letting cool air roll in, carrying the distant sounds of the city settling into evening.
Everyone was there.
Valkyrie leaned against the window frame, arms crossed, eyes sharp with interest. Krystoff sat on the edge of a chair, tryingand failingto look unaffected. Supremo lounged with his boots on a low table until Valkyrie kicked them off without looking. John stood near the corner, silent as ever. Joen had already started scribbling numbers on scrap parchment. Jucelis watched everything.
Eldren paced.
He couldn't help himself.
"One hundred gold," he muttered, shaking his head. "For a slab of glass and polish. Do you have any idea"
"You're welcome," Nibbo interrupted flatly.
Eldren stopped pacing and glared. "You threatened me."
"We motivated you."
"I was extorted by children."
"You're rich now."
Eldren paused.
Then nodded. "Fair."
I cleared my throat.
They all turned to me.
That still felt strange.
"We need to talk about direction," I said. "Not celebration."
Supremo groaned. "Let me enjoy the moment. I've never seen a noble hand over gold that fast."
"That's exactly why we need to talk," I replied.
I gestured toward Joen. "What do the numbers say?"
Joen pushed his parchment forward, eyes bright. "If production remains limited and we maintain current pricing, we can fund expansion without borrowing within two cycles."
"Two?" Krystoff blinked. "That fast?"
Joen nodded. "Demand isn't the issue. Control is."
Nibbo snorted. "Always is."
Jucelis finally spoke. "We can't flood the market."
Eldren stopped pacing again. "I wasn't planning to."
"Good," Jucelis said. "Because the moment mirrors become common, they stop being powerful."
I watched them talk, argue, align.
This… this was the part I hadn't had before.
In my previous life, ideas were hoarded. Plans were hidden. Power was something you climbed alone, stepping on others because there was no one you trusted to climb with you.
Here… it was different.
Not easier.
Just shared.
"We position this as a luxury," Valkyrie said. "A symbol."
"For nobles first," Krystoff added. "Then high-ranking merchants."
"Never common sale," Nibbo said. "At least not yet."
Eldren looked at me. "You're quiet."
I thought for a moment.
"I don't want this to just be about money," I said slowly.
Supremo raised an eyebrow. "That's new."
"I mean it," I continued. "Money is freedom, yes. But this is also leverage."
They waited.
"Mirrors reveal," I said. "Not just faces. Status. Wealth. Influence. If we control who gets them, we control who feels seen."
Eldren's grin returned wider this time.
"You're terrifying," he said fondly.
I ignored him.
"This guild isn't just going to sell things," I went on. "It's going to move information. Shape perception. Open doors that wouldn't open for children."
John spoke quietly. "And close others."
"Yes," I agreed.
Silence settled.
Not uncomfortable.
Heavy.
Eldren finally broke it. "Then we need a name."
"A name?" Krystoff echoed.
"For the guild," Eldren said. "If we're doing this, we do it properly."
I hadn't thought about that.
Names carried weight.
I looked around the room. At my friends. At the strange, fragile thing we were building together.
"A name later," I decided. "For now, we watch. We learn. We refine."
Eldren clicked his tongue. "Always cautious."
"I have to be," I said.
No one argued.
That night, as I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, I replayed the day in my mind.
The way the noblewoman had looked at herself.
The way gold had moved so easily.
The way Eldren had smiled when he realized he wasn't just surviving anymore… he was positioning.
This wasn't about wealth.
Not really.
It was about agency.
I couldn't rely on allowance. Couldn't rely on protection forever. If I wanted to be freetruly freeI needed something that existed outside titles, outside inheritance.
Something that was mine.
The mirror had shown others who they were.
But today, it had shown me something too.
The future wasn't coming for me anymore.
I was reaching for it.
And it was starting to reach back.