Nightglass Duelist

He bowed from the hotel mirror each night, one hand on a glass saber. Polished boots. A narrow coat. A smooth black visor where we looked for a face. The first scavengers laughed as they passed. The fourth didn't return the gesture.

The mirror emptied. A cut crossed the man's pack and coat, then the pillar behind him. Only afterward did we hear the blade. I raised a shard and bowed into it. The incomplete frame offended him enough to turn his attention toward my reflection.

We circled through the broken rooms until dawn silvered the windows. He saluted, cut his own reflection loose, and carried it away like a cloak.

The courtesy is visible, though sometimes only in reflection. Ignoring it permits an ambush under his code. He chooses composed opponents and strikes through adjacent black surfaces, withdrawing if a cut becomes untidy.

Broken mirrors supply entrances unless laid face down or flooded with daylight. He accepts a properly witnessed surrender. Interference after terms are agreed is punished. Sunrise contracts his range sharply, but a carried shard may preserve enough night for one escape.