COPYCAT
Prologue
Nagawa Family Palace, 6:15 pm.
The day was coming to an end. Throughout the great expanse of dry grass plains, the various day-time native wildlife began to settle in their dens, burrows, trees or what ever else they preferred to sleep in; while the night-life animals (mostly bats) began to stir. As the sun set, casting its golden colour along the landscape, the impressive palace of the Nagawa family was silhouetted as it cast long shadows in the fading light.
The soldiers along the glamorously adorned corridor that led to the private chambers snapped to full attention as a young man made his way along the corridor.
The young man's name was Jmahl Nagawa; a young man of twenty years age, he had dark skin, hair, and dark, deep, proud handsome eyes that are typical of his people. But he was not however typical. Jmahl was king of his people; not only that, but the youngest to succeed the throne in over one hundred years.
As Jmahl approached the hardwood doors to his private chambers, two white-clad servants opened them widely, allowing their king to pass through. Another pair of servants moved to follow the king into his chambers but were waved away by him; the king shut the heavy wooden doors behind him, letting out a contented sigh of relief as her heard the bolts on the door click shut.
King Nagawa had spent the entire day in a stuffy room full of diplomats, trying to make final arrangements for peace-talks between a neighbouring country that his people had been at war with for almost fifty years. What he wanted right now was to be alone.
Jmahl walked through the lush chamber to the balcony. He stayed seated in a comfortable wooden chair, until the sun finally sank below the horizon and the last rays of the day were banished by night.
Jmahl yawned softly, then decided he would get changed and go to bed early.
The king's wardrobe was practically another room altogether. Along one wall was an innumerable amount of extravagant formal clothing; another wall was adorned with more fine clothing that the king wore everyday; and another wall held a mirror in an elegantly carved wooden frame.
Jmahl took a step back as he was startled by the appearance of another person who had been concealed behind a wall of clothing he had just pushed aside. But as his heart slowed down from his initial surprise, Jmahl saw that it was not another person at all, but in fact his own reflection. Someone must have installed another mirror during the day.
Chuckling lightly to himself at his unexpected fright, he waved at the reflection, which also waved back. Leaning in closer, Jmahl pulled a number of faces at his reflection; it had been a long time since he had entertained himself in such a fashion; the responsibilities of his position had left him very little time to himself.
But as the king slowly began to realise that there were subtle differences between the clothing he wore and that his reflection wore; the reflection of the king suddenly winked at him. Jmahl took a step back, startled. He had not winked.
The arm of King Nagawa's "reflection" quickly raised. Before Jmahl could open his mouth to call for help; a cloud of blue-yellow vapour hissed from a can held in the "reflections" hand.
In a matter of seconds, King Jmahl Nagawa was flat on his back staring straight up at the ceiling. Moments later, the dark fog that was unconsciousness crept into his mind and claimed him.
King Nagawa's "reflection" stood over his body, smiling evilly down at the still, national leader. In a few minutes, the "reflection" had Jmahl's body neatly hidden away.