Mirror Mouth
Today I’d like to share with you the tale of Murglen the mirror mouth.
There is a realm made of synthetic stars and unpredictable time loops
where some days don’t happen at all but others repeat themselves twice.
This realm is home to ChronoWraiths, cyber dragons and a peculiar wizard
called Murglen the mirror mouth.
Murglen was a decent conjurer with a fondness for card tricks and Haribo’s.
But over time, he stopped conjuring and started copying.
He copied so much that the forest sprites called him mirror mouth,
because he spoke only the reflections of others.
You see, Murglen had fallen under the spell of fame.
Not real magic, but the glowing charm of being seen, liked and followed.
There was one wizard in particular Veldrin the Vast, a beloved performer whose spell shows were broadcast through crystal screens to every corner of the realm. Veldrin was bold, charming
and known for his original catchphrases.
Murglen, watched from the shadows of his mossy flat
and decided he would simply become Veldrin.
Not like him but actually be him.
He copied Veldrin’s every move:
The same wand twirls, the same enchanted phrasing even the same impromptu spell reveals, copied word for word from old episodes!
He even dyed his cloak the same shade of Stardust Indigo.
But Murglen never once said where his style had come from.
He never nodded to Veldrin or credited his inspiration.
Not even when he performed the great forget me knot,
a spell that Veldrin had invented after ten years
of experimentation with memory aether.
Murglen’s copying wasn’t just limited to the famous.
He copied ideas from his own friends and wizards
who had shared spells with him in late night scroll chats
and candlelit gatherings.
When those tricks appeared on Murglen’s stage, they were renamed, rebranded and repackaged as if they’d come from his own chubby brain.
One of his friends reached out and asked:
Hey, wasn’t that the spell I showed you at the Moonfeast?
Murglen respond with ice cold dollar signs in his eyes:
Magic belongs to the ether, not to you.
If you didn’t trademark it, it’s mine!
Now, most thieves in the magical realm wear masks of silence.
But Murglen decided to take it even further.
He trolled online magical dwellings and created fake accounts
using names like WandBlower and Truthsayer.
He would create posts and leave snidey comments
under the posts of other wizards.
He would mock their performances, insult appearances and sneer at new ideas.
He even created fake social media profiles and mocked his own friends,
hiding behind digital veils and sniggered like a goblin behind a curtain.
One time he wrote:
Some wizards just slap glitter on old tricks
and call it innovation… How sad!
Murglen didn’t stop there though,
he was enjoying the misery of others far too much.
To complete his trifecta of treachery,
he created a blog… Under a false name of course.
He didn’t want people to know he was behind it.
The Sorcerer’s Scourge:
He wrote vicious essays tearing down other magicians.
He pretended to be a neutral critic, but filled the pages with venom,
spite and invented stories.
He accused wizards of stealing his potions… Oh the irony!
The magical community became confused and grew cautious.
Whispers spread and friendships cooled.
Many feared speaking freely, unsure of who might be lurking
in the shadows, taking notes, stealing ideas or hurling insults.
Murglen continued to rise in popularity.
He spoke with the voice of others, wore spells like borrowed clothes
and smiled with green teeth.
But here’s the thing about living a lie,
it eventually fractures the mirror.
One evening, during a live stream
He performed one of his ‘original’ spells called MindVault Revelation
(which was actually just a renamed version of Veldrin’s Mindlock Sequence)
Murglen made a mistake, he uttered a phrase so specific.
One of Veldrin’s old lines, word for word and syllable for syllable.
A thousand enchanted mirrors watching from homes,
libraries and forgotten forests all glitched at once.
The wizards recognised the pattern, the spell recognised its true origin and so did the watchers.
The enchanted crystal feed froze.
A soft voice; Veldrin’s voice echoed across the realm:
That spell was written in my blood and bound to my breath.
Who are you to wear it without a name?
Murglen’s mirror cracked.
The fake accounts began unravelling and eventually disappeared.
Leaked scrolls emerged and friends came forward
with evidence of messages, stolen notes and screenshots.
Even The Sorcerer’s Scourge blog
was traced back through a residual pixelated enchantment.
He was exposed but the realm did not rage.
It did not curse, it did not cancel.
It simply looked away.
Murglen performed for empty livestreams.
He released spells that no one believed in
and the echoes he once mimicked turned to silence.
Alone in his lair, surrounded by the bones of borrowed brilliance.
Murglen stared into the one mirror that still worked; his own and said:
I only wanted to be known, the mirror did not answer.
A nearby radio came to life and the presenter said:
You were known. Just not for what you thought you’d be known for!
Moral of the Fable:
If you spend your entire life using other people’s voices,
one day you’ll forget how your own sounds and if someone shares a spark that lights your fire… The least you can do is nod and say:
Thanks for the flame!
Because even magic must be practiced with honour.
Stay Weird
ЯYΛП MΣПƬIƧ
International Man of Mischief
P.S. This story is a work of fiction.
Similarities to any person living or dead is purely coincidental.