The Princess and the Mirror

Long, long ago, there was a huge castle. It was the size of a city, and its towers stretched far into the sky and its cellars deep into the earth. In it lived a great king, who had but a single daughter, who was very beautiful. When it came time for her to be wed, she declared that she would only marry someone who could bring her a gift of pure and unique beauty. Princes came from all over the world to court her, bringing offerings of dresses, gems, paintings, animals and all manner of beautiful things, but she refused them all. To her eye, everything was plain and drab.
One day, a young man came to the castle bearing a small plain box. No one knew who he was, and when they asked, he replied that he would marry the princess, as he had found the beauty she sought. The people scoffed, for many princes had come with stunning offerings only to be turned away: how would a plain man with a plain box succeed? The young man only smiled, and asked for an audience. He was brought before the princess, and presented his box. She opened it, and inside lay a silver mirror. It was a good mirror, shining and bright, but nothing compared to the other gifts. She looked at it, bored, and went to put it away when the man stopped her. “You aren’t really looking,” he said, and drew a flower from his pocket: a small, plain sort of bloom that grows by the road. He passed it to her. “This isn’t beautiful,” she said. “There are hundreds of these flowers on every street.” “No. There is only one of anything, if you’re looking the right way. Use the mirror, and look.” Frowning, she held up the flower and looked at it in the mirror. At first, it appeared the same, but as she peered at it, its image changed. Colours swirled about its petals and leaves, patterns and shades she had never seen. She was entranced by the sight for many minutes, until the man handed her a second flower, very much the same as the first. When she held it up and looked at it like the first, its reflection became entirely different, its colours as unique as the first without being at all the same. Truly this was the beauty she sought, and agreed to marry the man right away.
On the night of their wedding, the princess asked how the mirror could show such things. He replied that it showed things how they really are, without the failings of human eyes. He warned her of two things: she was never to look through the mirror for too long at herself, or she would be lost in the mirror’s reflection, and she must never to look at him with it. When she asked why, he said, “Is it not enough that I gave you this gift? In return, all I ask is that you not look at my true self, else I will have to take it back along with all that you have given me.” She was confused, but she agreed.
The princess spent many long days looking through the mirror, peering at the beautiful and mysterious truth of plants and animals and objects. A few times the mirror startled her: small movements or shadows of things would flit by its surface where nothing really was. One time she thought she saw a man standing behind her, but when she turned there was nothing; another time she found a reflection of a small clay pot clearly sitting on a table where there was none. She asked her husband the meaning of these things, but each time he smiled and said, “There are many strange truths that people can’t see. Do not worry, for as long as you do not get lost in the mirror, its images will never harm you.” The shadows and ghosts frightened her, and several times she vowed to never look through the mirror again, but each time she picked it up once more, unable to resist the strange beauty of the reflections.
Sometimes the princess would look at others, maids and valets and knights, through the edge of the glass: some appeared faint, with dull swirling colours barely visible, while others were bright and strong. No one she saw appeared stranger than the other things she could see. She never looked at herself through it for long; she had spent so many years looking at herself through other mirrors that the sight never held her interest. However, she always wondered why her husband hid his reflection from her.
One night, she could bear it no longer. She waited until he had fallen asleep, then in the moonlight, held up the mirror to him. When his reflection resolved, she was ill-prepared for what she saw. Her husband had no colour, no vibrance like the others: he was flat, dead and lifeless. Thin tendrils led away from his head, arms and legs like puppet strings. She tilted the mirror to see what was controlling the puppet, and screamed when she saw the creature that loomed above, strings hanging from its limbs. Dropping the mirror, she saw her husband sit up. “You broke your promise,” he said plainly. “Now I will claim what is mine.”
The princess suddenly awoke alone on the floor the next morning. Her husband was gone. As she walked through the castle, she called for help, but no one came. As she went from room to room, she found that everyone had vanished. Everyone in the castle had disappeared. She despaired as she realized the meaning behind her husband’s words: by marrying her, she had given him command of all of her subjects, and so he had taken them all away. With a heavy heart, she collected the mirror and took it to the very deepest, most hidden part of the castle. There, she looked deep into her own reflection. She vanished into the mirror, leaving it where it lay as she joined the subjects she had failed.
Category:Tiny Books