The guard who's shift it was to watch the prisoners whistled. He had had a good day. He had flirted with Betty the servant and even managed to secure a date with her. His shift would end soon and then he could go home and drink a beer. All was well. The prisoners had been fed and watered. Those who had information had spilled their secrets during interrogation. All was well in Kotalis.
Except it wasn't. The king had been assassinated and the two young princes were missing, kidnapped by a Moonshadow elf assassin. To make matters worse, it had started to look as if Lord Viren had gone insane. The servants had even started a betting pool for when he would snap and kill someone.
Ever since he tried to have himself declared Regent Protector of the land, his actions had been closely scrutinized. He would disappear for hours at a time, coming back frustrated and snappish.
Many of the council members were doubting his intentions. They were right to do so.
In Viren's study, behind a painting, were a set of stairs leading to his lab, which further led to his personal dungeons. The prisoners had neither a guard nor were they cooperative. In fact, one was even trying to convince Lord Viren he was already dead. The other was bored and had taken to using his time annoying Lord Viren with Optimism™. The nerve!
Another was stuck in a mirror, very much bored out of his mind. But we'll get to him later.
Optimism dude was named Gren and he believed that one should never be chained down. In fact, he didn't even think one should be changed up. He disliked cruelty to prisoners. Either they did something terrible enough to warrant execution or they did something bad that got them thrown into prison. There was no in-between. He was an honorable man and there was no honor in torture.
Sure, he wasn't being tortured, but being chained to the wall by his arms sure wasn't pleasant. He was sure there was some law in the prisoner's rights act that forbids these types of things but it would seem Viren didn't much care for the law.
Gren missed Amaya. He missed having silent conversations by the fire. He missed the princes as well. He missed Ezran's laughter, Callum's smile as he drew something he found interesting. He missed jelly tarts and food that didn't taste bland and flavorless. He wanted to go home. He had a job to do, however... and he failed. The princes were still missing and it was all his fault. Amaya had told him to be careful. It was his fault the boys were still missing, that they were still in the clutches of that elf. Amaya would be so disappointed in him now. He had to make it up to her. He had to make things right. But first, he needed to get out of there.
He hated the dungeons. They were cold and dark. There was no source of heat and the stone at his back drained all the heat from his body. He always felt sluggish, as if time was slowly fading from him. His legs ached from standing for days on end and his wrists screamed from where the manacles dug their way into his flesh.
The prisoner in the cell was being tortured. He tried not to listen to the screams. They were blood-curdling. He always made sure to not annoy Viren too much when he visited Runaan.
Gren didn't hate Runaan even though he should. He killed the king after all, or at least Gren thought he did. No one really knows what happened. And he was an elf. However, Runaan might have had many crimes to pay for, but even he didn't deserve whatever horror Viren's mind managed to cook up.
It was after Runaan had such a session with Viren that he did what he did every time.
Try to annoy Viren enough to get him close so he could swipe his keys. However, he stormed out before Gren could even open his mouth.
So he decided to check on Runaan.
"Hey. Are you okay? Well, of course, you're not. That was a silly question... You still alive in there?"
"I am already dead."
"Cool..."

"Don't worry. I'll get us out of here. Promise."
Runaan sighed from where he was chained to the wall. The human was insufferable. He babbled on for hours about nothing, even when Runaan ignored him.
Not to say he wasn't grateful for the distraction but he was an assassin. He was supose to be tough and untouchable. There was no place for weakness. Especially not now.
The mirror standing in front of him was creepy. Made only worse by the Startouch elf staring back at him. He wished Viren had never shown him the mirror.
He wasn't sure if he preferred knowing who the monster behind the mirror was or if he would have been better of not knowing.
Then again if he hadn't known, he might have trusted and even pitied Aaravos.
Startouch elves were rare to be born, in fact, there hadn't been one seen in centuries. There were even fewer who were trapped in a mirror.
Runaan spent his hours in guilt. He had gotten his team killed. It had been his decision to bring Rayla along, even though he had been advised against it. He allowed her to distract him, had made it so he wasn't there when his team needed him.
He hoped she had gotten away, hoped she would be able to live her life without fear. For all her treachery and foolishness, she was still his child. Though he was not her father, he had raised her whilst her parents worked.
Runaan missed many things. The privilege of not being in pain, Xadian fruit, sunshine, Rayla, training on days when the temperature was just perfect. But he missed his husband the most. He missed lazy days spent in bed, missed hugging his husband, the teasing, the love, his smiles, He missed his husband.
He needed to be strong, however. He could not fail Xadia and in turn, his family.
Aaravos was both amused and irritated. The Moonshadow had been glaring at him ever since the mirror had been placed in front of him. It was hilarious.
The irritating part came from the fact that he was chained up. Even if Aaravos was able to convince Runaan to free him from the confines of the mirror, he still had to get out of his own chains before he could help Aaravos.
And even if he got out of his chains and even if he agreed to help him escape the mirror, he was weakened from prolonged dehydration, starvation, and torture.
Still a pretty thing though, despite the grime.
Aaravos had been trapped in the mirror for centuries. Time did not pass in the mirror. It always stayed daytime and Aaravos was sick of it. He had been cut off from his primal connection for too long. He had started to fade. His power came from what he had stored in his body and that would soon dwindle until he could no longer do magic.
He missed the stars. He missed watching them twinkle and glitter in the sky. He missed the night he had been denied for so long. The day was not for him.
He had made mistakes, he would admit. He had plunged the world into darkness when he had created dark magic but he had never known the outcome of his actions. He had never intended for it to be used for ill. It had all started out so innocently at first. It had merely been a way for humans to be able to do magic with the power supplied by the things around them.
The idea behind it had been that once humans managed to open their pathways with dark magic, they would be able to connect with a primal source through meditation. It had worked too, but sadly some had seen it as too much trouble. Why would they when they already had power at their fingertips.
The council had not been pleased.
Aaravos had done many terrible things to get out of the mirror but could you truly blame him? There was no sound besides that which he provided. There was no birdsong, no noise besides the crackle of the fire, the sound of a book closing and his own voice echoing back at him.

The next day was a repeat of the previous.
Viren came down the stairs and Gren cheerfully greeted him. He shot Gren an irritated look and continued on to Runaan's cell.
This is where a change from the normal routine came. Instead of interrogating Runaan as he would normally, he questioned him without violence.
"What does the mirror do?" He asked Runaan.
Runaan was quiet for a moment. The mirror had taunted him throughout the night with promises of going home, of not hurting anymore, of seeing his husband and Rayla again. It had been unbearable.
What happens when you offered a starving man a feast?
"It is a mirror. Nothing more." Runaan answered.
"Impossible! The dragon king kept this close to where he slept. It can't just be a mirror!"
Aaravos smiled unseen from the mirror. It had taken a lot of convincing and mind games on his part but Runaan had shattered like glass.
Runaan glanced at the mirror where Aaravos stood before he looked at Lord Viren again and raised an eyebrow at him.
"You don't keep a mirror in your room?"
He glared down at Runaan before kicking him in the ribs.
"You have until tomorrow to tell me the truth or else." He hissed before he stormed out.
"Bad day huh?" Gren asked.
Viren turned towards him, angrier than he had ever been and stormed towards him and grabbed him by the throat, lifting him off the ground.
"Shut up, you pathetic boy." He said before he dropped him and stormed out, too pissed to notice his keys were gone.
Gren smiled around the pain in his neck. Finally! He was starting to worry he would never get out. Though his hands were tied he had managed to get the keys anyway. It was basic soldier training after all.
Though it took a lot of contortion and wiggling on his part, he managed to unlock is chains and fell to his knees.
He had been hanging there for almost a week. Grabbing one of the chains he had been hanging from he pulled himself up and leaned on the wall to catch his breath before he walked down the hall to Runaan's cell on jelly legs.
"Hey, Runaan! Are you still alive in there? 'Cause I think I can get us out of here."
That night, three prisoners escaped.
Two elves and a Human.