An idea that stuck in my head, and eventually I just decided to write it down.
Once upon a time…that is how stories are usually started. I always wondered why people couldn't state when something happened. Why did the date of their events need to be so obscure? And why must the setting of the tale be 'far far away'? That would be an awfully silly thing to say if the setting was that of someone's own town.
Humans are so interesting and odd, and loveable.
For the longest time I thought of them like one might a bunch of dogs or cats, some being especially friendly and others waiting for the opportune moment to bite.
For that I'll have to be forgiven. They are not at all like dogs or cats.
But I must go on with my story now, and 'once upon a time' is the most accurate way of beginning it, for the years have passed endlessly and I cannot recall the day I was born.
Or rather…made.
/
The day I am created
/
There were two men who were responsible for conjuring me into existence.
One was Barathe.
Barathe was one of the greatest alchemists of those days. Many paid high prices for him to use his transformational powers to their advantage. Conniving merchants had lead nuggets turned to gold by his spells. Fishermen had nets spun of horsehair by him that were known to catch entire schools of fish and the odd wish-granting turtle. Women famed him for his potions that kept them young and beautiful.
If you wanted someone ordinary turned extraordinary, you needed Barathe.
He was old, his beard iron grey and his eyes so poor and clouded with cataracts it was miracle he could see (probably the work of his alchemy was the source of his eyesight through such pitiful eyes). He was gruff, but he was wise, and powerful.
The other was a younger man, who was called Portly.
I never knew his real name, if he even had one.
He was what one might describe as a village idiot. He had a great jolly stomach and stood at an intimidating six and feet and nine inches, topped by a mop of sandy colored hair. His hands were the size of baker's bread paddles, and he had chubby, dimpled cheeks, over which his blue eyes sat, bearing a somewhat childlike expression.
The man looked like he could trample you in his own personal stampede, but he was as harmless as a baby elephant.
On the night of my creation they stood working over an ordinary mirror, that would soon be turned extraordinary. I was told once that it had a beautiful gold-platted frame, but I could not see it for quite some time. What mattered most to the creators was that it was a full length mirror, and that if a person stood at its edge, their entire reflection would show.
You see, I had to fit in there somehow. I was already doomed to be a petite individual by the size of the mirror. Any shorter and to make me comfortable (though I think my comfort was not very high on the list of priorities) I would have probably been made as a dwarf or spritely little elf.
I can recall the moment I appeared. Not all at once, but piece by piece.
The first thing to come forth of me was my mind. I didn't know it at the time but it would be a spectacular mind, full of knowledge. Knowledge beyond that of any man. At that moment, I had nothing to think of but the fact I existed.
It was a gentle existence, floating in a sort of hazy, peaceful limbo. A simple, resounding thought of: I am here. This is me.
Then I could hear them. Imagine sound coming into your life. Unlike a human newborn I could comprehend it, and make use of language.
Barathe was muttering, and saying chants in Latin. His other remarks were instructions for Portly. "Portly, the eye of newt….the maiden's hair, three strands…hurry, hurry!...now the brick dust…"
Portly remarks were routinely rattled off to the commands. "Yes, master" and "Hurry, hurry, hurry" when he was told to quicken his pace. His voice was childlike too, a bit higher, and that of someone of lower intelligence.
"No, you oaf!" Barathe suddenly shouted. "Put down that ladle! This is hardly soup!"
It was from this comment I deciphered I was underneath some water, being turned to potion.
The ingredients were listed. The fur of a white stag, the scales of a crocodile, the dust from a sheep's horn, and many, many plants. Every from black pansies to orchid roots to dandelion seeds.
Then my body started to become tangible. I could see nothing but I could feel. I could sense arms and legs and everything in between them. I felt my head down to the tips of my toes.
So odd, that I did not have a body for what must have been the first half hour of my 'life'.
And then, finally, as everything in that great water-bath boiled…sight.
I saw those arms, and those toes, and in the glass of the mirror I beheld a translucent image of myself, against the darkness of a world not yet open to me. I was pale, and had dark hair, braided up in a bun. My features were those typical of a young women, and my eyes were a deep blue. I touched my face, my hair, the first movements I performed.
Though my mirror lay flat, I still felt as though I stood upright. In fact, when Barathe laughed gleefully and said the spell was done, and gave the order to have me raised from the waters, I felt as though I was standing upright all the time, even as my mirror was inclined.
"Behold Portly…" Barathe said with excitement. "A magic mirror."
"Ooohhhh." Portly awed at the sight of my mirror. "It are very nice, Barathe." He complimented, his grammar, much like the rest of him, having that simpleton air.
"Ask it any question, and it will answer." Barathe went on. "The king and queen will never have such a gift bestowed on them by anyone else." He clapped his hands, and stepped forward. "And now, the moment of truth…" He cleared his throat. "Mirror! I command you to reveal yourself."
I waited for something to happen, even going so far as to tap upon the glass, but to no effect. "Hello?" I called out. "Oh." I beheld my sweet voice for the first time.
"It are invisible." Portly speculated.
"No, you idiot!" Barathe snapped. There was a great crash, as he must have thrown something and it crashed into clay jars on a table. "It's not invisible, it's not working!" He stormed. "Something must have went wrong...what have you done?!.."
"I do as you say, Master."
"I hardly believe that. What mistake have you done now…? Did you not add three strands of maiden's hair?"
"Yes, master."
"Then what have you done?! Everything else was so simply for you…there was feverfew, and willow bark, and magnolia petals and…wait…what is this?!"
"That are a button, master."
"Where did it come from?"
"Don't know." Portly shrugged. "Say…may I have the button, master? One's missin' from my shirt."
This was followed by much shouting from Barathe, and a fair bit of shamed whimpering from Portly. "Has I ruined it?" He said.
"No!" Barathe steamed. "No, no, no.." His voice grew calmer with each 'no'. "It is not ruined, it has only become more difficult. The button from the tunic of a fool makes things a bit more troublesome." He coughed, clearing his throat again. "Let us try this again."
He stood before me. "Mirror, Mirror, on the wall, reveal yourself to us all."
This time the dark glass in front of me shimmered, and dissolved, my half-image was replaced by what stood before my mirror, the workshop of alchemist. It was dominated by shelves of books, and jars of dried powders, and a few pewter pots and tiny fires over which they sat.
"It works!" Barathe was pleased again.
"Hello." I said, snickering at the sound of my voice.
"It speaks." Barathe was practically shedding tears of joy.
"She are lovely." Portly smiled.
"Rhyme is the key." Barathe continued. "Every question, every command, must be in rhyme, or it won't work."
"What a silly rule." I giggled.
"She'll a bit more vocal than I would have liked." Barathe sighed. "That button gives her the freedom to speak as she will. She'll have to answer every question but she'll be able to get chatty." He shook his head. "Let's hope the king and queen won't mind."
"Hello." Portly grinned at me.
"Hello." I waved at the village idiot. "Are you the one called Portly?"
"I are Portly." The fool beamed, sticking out his great chest proudly.
"Enough, enough." Barathe waved a hand between us. "Half the night is already gone. We must wrap the mirror up and bring it to the castle." He turned his back to me. "Face away, then it'll be gone, we can't have it talking all the way there."
"Bye bye." Portly waved to me, and turned away, and then the world that I had so briefly seen was gone, and I beheld the empty void that I would always see when I was not called forth.
"Good bye, Portly." I said. I admired my half-reflection in the glass as I heard them rummaging back and fort, wrapping my glass up in burlap. Someone (I assume it was Portly, given his size and strength) loaded me and my mirror into the back of a cart, and then we were moving to a strange, new clip-clop sound.
If Barathe had his way I would have remained covered the entire journey, but luckily Portly was either forgetful or not a very good listener. Or both.
He unwrapped the burlap from my glass, and called out softly, the way someone might try to get a lamb or puppy to come over to them "Mirror lady….Mirror ladyyyyy."
"Rhyme Portly, you must speak in rhyme." I tried to remind him, though he could not hear.
After another ten minutes of trying to coax my image into the glass unsuccessfully through his whispering, he at last had a spark of memory, and recited Barathe's previous words the way a child recites a lesson from school. "Mirror, Mirror, one the wall, show yourself to us all."
I came forward, most happy. Or rather, as close to happy as a mirror could get. I did not fully understand emotion, but felt an odd sense that I should feel happy.
"Well done, Portly." I smiled at him.
"Mirror Lady." He smiled gleefully.
"Say, it's darker where you are now." I noticed the shadowy world beyond his lantern-lit face.
"It are the nighttime." Portly explained.
I suddenly became aware of what the night was, as though my mind was opened to a thousand resources and wells of knowledge. I knew of stars and planets, I knew of nocturnal animals, I knew of the changing of time.
"The stars…" I muttered. "Portly? Could you tilt my mirror back? Are there stars out?"
Portly did so. "Goodness…" I breathed. It was most incredible. I looked upon each star and knew if it was a star on its own or part of a constellation. "Look at them." I stared at the great abyss for quite some time. Eventually something made of stone blocked the view of the sky, a gateway.
"Portly, where are you taking me?" I asked.
"To castle." Portly explained. "Mirror is present."
Right, for a king and queen.
"Do you think I'll like it here?" I asked. "How long will I be here?"
"Portly don't know." Portly looked at me with childish sympathy. "But Portly likes you."
"That's very sweet of you Portly." I smiled. "I think I should thank you for dropping a button in that potion. I don't think I'd like to just speak when I'm spoken too."
"That very nice." Portly appeared tickled pink by my thanks.
"What are you doing?" The words were spoken harshly by Barathe. "Have you unwrapped the mirror?!"
Portly was smacked upside the head, and the burlap was thrown over my glass surface, casting me back into the same dark void.
"Oh dear." I fretted, knowing somehow that Portly was doomed to have a great bump on his head. I waited, hearing bits and pieces of conversation, mostly Barathe speaking with a gate keeper of where to bring a gift for the new king and queen, and wanting to present himself. He also apologized for bringing Portly along.
I sat on my floor, small as it was for I was stuck in what looked like a cubby made of white marble, as everyone grunted and groaned as I was taken out of the cart and carried into the castle, my view blocked by no one calling me forward and the burlap.
But at last I was stood up again, and there was much nervous muttering from Barathe, and finally a round of fanfare as the morning fell upon us and the king and queen finally came forward. I stood, expecting to be called forth soon.
"Your majesties…" Barathe spoke to them, his voice shaking a little. "It is my great honor to bring you this gift, forged by myself in my workshop. Long has tale of my great alchemy been told, but now I bring you my masterpiece." He removed the burlap covering with a great swoosh. "I give you this mirror." He continued. "Made from a simple looking glass, transformed under the cover of the night by potions concocted of ingredients it took years to collect, and spells in languages long forgotten by most. No other man had the skill, nor the time, nor the ambition to do as I did with this looking glass, and change it into an object of enchantment." He paused briefly for effect. "A mirror with all the knowledge of the world. Come to it in times of need with your questions, and it shall always answer you truthfully."
"How is this done?" The king asked.
"You must approach the mirror, your majesties, and call the enchantress within forth. Then you may ask it whatever you desire." He added, quickly, "Your words must be in rhyme."
"Why must they? Would it not be simpler to ask outright?" The queen asked.
"That it would, your highness, but…" For a moment I feared he may blame Portly. "…the rhyme assures that those who come into your castle, seeking knowledge not meant to be theirs, are met with obstacle. What thief would think to ask in rhyme?"
"A wise bit of trickery." The king agreed, and Barathe let loose a sigh of relief.
"Allow me to present how to operate the mirror, your majesties." He stood before me. "Mirror, Mirror, on the wall, reveal yourself to us all."
The dark glass cleared, and I stood before them, and smiled. "Your majesties." I bowed lightly. I was thought my show of manners quite elegant.
"Incredible." The king observed me. "One would think her a real lady." He turned to Barathe. "May I test this mirror?"
"Yes, yes, of course." Barathe ushered him forward. "The rhyme, remember to rhyme."
"Mirror, mirror, on the wall, reveal my name to us all." The king spoke, in a voice that projected around the room.
I had never seen him before this night, or any other people apart from Barathe and Portly and the Queen. But when the words were finished I knew who he was, as though I had known him and his bloodline all my life.
"You are King Rupin." I said, confidently. "First king of this land, for it is a new land now. Your father has divided his whole kingdom into five, one to be had by each son. You are the eldest, and so have been given the most prosperous."
"It is most remarkable." He said, with a small smile. "I shall accept your gift, and if it proves useful, you shall be rewarded."
"Thank you, your majesty." Barathe bowed.
"How does one dismiss the mirror?" King Rupin asked.
"You do not wish to know anything else?" I asked. "You don't want to test me further? What if the alchemist had already told me of who you were? What if your name and title are the only things I know?"
"You must turn yourselves around and face away from the surface of the mirror, your majesties, that is all that is required to quiet its musings." Barathe quickly interjected before the king's confidence in his gift could disappear. "Pay no attention to its ramblings. It will answer you when asked…it must, it has no choice."
"An unfortunate defect, but we'll make do." The king waved his hand, and everyone, save Portly, turned around to make an exit.
"Unfortunate defect?" I asked. "How?"
"Portly!" Barathe snapped his fingers and captured the gentle half-wit's attention.
"Bye bye." Portly waved, and then he turned and I was alone in my mirror again.
Only this time it was far quieter. My mirror had been placed in a room all it's own, so I could not hear much, only the passings of fanfare and footmen, advisors talking through the halls, and the maids running back and forth from the early hours of the morning till dusk. I was alone, and I had only my the tiny chamber on my side of the mirror. Any other person would have felt uncomfortable, but for me it was home. I found I was able to sleep, and for extended periods of time. Not in the way humans do, but enough to close my eyes and feel a great peace wash over me.
Later on, I would more correctly describe it as a sort of meditation. In this state I found my mind was able to drift to far off places, and I mused on knowledges. Creatures of the word, trade routes, patterns in the stars. I knew of these things without having studied them once, and without the aid of a question. For this, I assumed I had Portly's button to thank as well, it giving me power of my mind just as it had my voice.
I was left to myself for a week, and then on the seventh day…
The sound of angry feet, hurried fanfare, and quite a bit of yelling, the words muffled by the walls of the room. The door swung open with so much force it sounded like a canon had been fired. I immediately stood.
"Mirror, mirror, on the wall, reveal yourself to us all!" King Rupin commanded.
The glass cleared, and I bowed, the tense anger in the room and the great deal of action after so much peace rendering me mute.
Beside the king was another nobleman, his garments muddied and torn, his hair disheveled. A pair of guards held him down on his knees.
"Has this man betrayed me?!" King Rupin bellowed.
"I cannot answer you if you do not ask in rhyme." I managed to say.
King Rupin was not pleased, and after a moment of thought he spit out the words "Mirror, I bring you a suspected spy, tell us where does his loyalty lie?"
The nobleman and I made eye contact, and I saw such fear staring back at me.
"He is a spy, sent by your brother, King James of the North." I answered. "He is only a peasant dressed in the clothes of a nobleman. He was paid well by your brother, and the orders given to him-"
"Take him away!" King Rupin ordered. "Execute him!" His anger was boiling over.
"Please, no!" The man protested, struggling against the guards.
"You can't!" I shouted from within my mirror. "You don't understand, he had no choice, he needed the gold-"
"Remove him now." King Rupin ignored me.
"Stop!" I ordered the guards myself, but they did not pay attention to me. "You don't understand! Leave him! He had no choice!"
They all turned their backs to me, and I was cast away, hearing the struggle of removing the poor man from the room.
That was the first time I felt sad. I did not cry, like a normal lady might have, but I knew that I would have felt grievously sad if my state of being allowed me too.
I felt numb more than anything, emotions being fleeting and feeble to me. I was doomed it seemed to never feel anything, be the feelings good or bad.
One thing I did know however, and that was that I did not want to stay and be some gift for King Rupin. I planned to argue with him when he next approached me. I sat boiling, as angry as a mirror could be, in my little chamber, until that evening when I at last heard someone coming inside.
There was no fanfare and so the king must have come alone. I stood, ready to vent out my mind to him.
"Mirror Lady?"
"Portly?" I could not believe it. How had he found me? Why was he here? I banged my fist on my side of the glass, even though it did little good to remind him he needed to rhyme.
He seemed to recall this after a moment himself, and he recited the words perfectly.
"Portly!" I was relieved to see him.
"Mirror." He smiled.
"What on earth are you doing in here?"
"King Rupin was very happy." Portly explained. "See? Gold!" He held out a small bag of gold coins, his share from the promised reward by the king. "Portly is now rich."
"Yes, you'll be able to live quite comfortably with that." I nodded. "Oh Portly…" I beseeched him.
"What's the matter?" Portly asked, concerned.
"I don't like it here at all." I shook my head. "The King just used me to see if someone betrayed him, and I had to tell him that he had, but he wouldn't let me explain, and now that poor man is going to be killed."
"That are sad." Portly nodded. "Rotten luck, too."
"I want to leave." I said. "Take me out of this castle."
"Mirror's too heavy to carry all the way home." Portly shook his head. "We would need a cart."
"Then please…please Portly go and find one."
"Is Mirror allowed to go?" Portly asked. He asked like a child did not wish to get into unnecessary trouble .
It was then that I discovered something, as the words slipped off my tongue.
I could lie.
So long as I was not asked a question in rhyme, I did not have to answer truthfully, if I chose to answer at all.
"Yes." I assured him. "Yes, Portly, I may go, so long as there is someone to carry me."
"Alright then." Portly grinned. "Portly will find a cart and then Mirror and me can go back to Master's."
"No!" I stopped his train of thought.
"No?" Portly repeated me.
"No, Portly… we don't have to go back to the alchemist." I said. If I returned to Barathe my journey away would be short lived. "You have gold now, that means you can go off on your own." I smiled. "You could buy land Portly. A nice little piece of land with a cottage on it."
"Really?" Portly beamed ear to ear.
"Yes." I replied. "Would you like that?"
"Very much." Portly said.
"And you could take me with you, so you would have a friend." I encouraged him. "But first…" I returned to more pressing matters. "We need a cart."
"Yes, yes…a cart, yes." Portly nodded.
"Now go off Portly, and try to be as quick as you can." I sent him off.
"Yes, Mirror." He nodded with a big grin. "Bye, bye." He turned and with that the room before me disappeared.
Mirror…I was becoming quite attached to the word. People always called me such when they called me forth and commanded my knowledge. Portly used it as a sort of name for me almost. The longer I waited for Portly's return, the more the idea of that stuck with me. Everyone needed a name, did they not? Even me.
Mirror.
Yes, it would do as a name. Quite apt, really.
I waited for Portly. I waited…and slept…and awoke…and waited…and slept…and waited more.
Portly never came.
One day I was commanded forth, this time by the queen, and was surprised to see she was expecting a child. She came forth, asking for the gender of the baby, and was pleased when I told her it was to be a son, and a healthy one too.
Months had passed since the time when Portly had visited me.
Perhaps he had forgotten me, or perhaps he was just not a very good listener.
Perhaps it was both.
I'm planning to combine three classic tales, one of which is Snow White, and the other two being Rumplestiltskin and Catskin (or The Coat of Many Colors, depending on what edition of the brothers Grimm you look at), and inserting Mirror's own story into the works.
