The Boy In The Mirror
Summary: The Magic Mirror Gate shows the person's true soul. Bastian knows it, but Atreyu does not. My take on how they would feel when faced with that test
Disclaimer: Don't own anything that sounds familiar
A/N: After locating the script for the movie (which I haven't seen in a few years) and reading through it, I realized that as the reader, Bastian will know some events that Atreyu doesn't, and his reactions would be completely different from those of the other boy - especially their first encounter at the Magic Mirror Gate.This brought on the realization for this little piece...the points of view vary - this is Atreyu, this is Bastian. On with the story
I slowly step toward the second gate. After the encounter with the Sphinx, my heart is still racing, and my head is low. I know I panicked, and raced right through when I should have been calm. I am terrified now of what I can find at the second step. I don't know about it, since I didn't hear anything from my guide. All I felt was the residue of fear from the first gate.
Now I hesitantly raise my head, as the wind howls in my ears. Snow settles on my hair and my face, and I step forward to a giant frame.
A mirror? Is that it?
I give a nervous gulp. If only he stopped to listen - if only he knew what that mirror does... I wonder would his hesitation increase even more had he known the truth.
Like him, my heart is racing with fear. What will he see? Like him, I slowly take a breath of much needed air, trying to push the fear down. I know - I heard - the Mirror shows the true self of a person. I know he doesn't know what the Mirror does - he didn't stop to listen.
Maybe he chose right. It's better to face unknown at some point.
True self... I wonder if I would be brave enough to face myself...
I know he won't run now - not when he's so close to the Oracle...
What will he see?
More certain of myself now, I raise my head. At first, I only see a dim outline of myself - the mirror's depths are confusing. Then the image shifts and changes, as I come closer, peering inside. There's nothing to be afraid of. After all, it's just a mirror, somehow, for whichever purpose, left standing there in the middle of a snowy desert. Why is it here?
The clouds in the mirror and my shape slowly disappear and I stare.
I look into the dim and dusty room. I can't see anything, despite the numerous shapes jumping out of me from the darkness. When my eyes adjust to the darkness after blinded by snow, I finally notice that the room has an occupant.
It's a boy, no older than I am. He's lying on his stomach with a blanket over his dark head, holding a heavy, leather-bound book in his hands. He frowns incredulously at the book before his head comes up, and we look into each other's eyes. He stares at me, looking through me - as if I'm not supposed to exist. His eyes, which I can see now, are dark and wide with astonishment.
How am I to know that I would see him again?
I don't. All I can do is stare, until he jumps to his feet and flings the book away, as if it burns his hands...
I read on. As he starts to approach the mirror, I gulp, feeling more nervous than I really should. After all, it's not I who faces that mirror.
It's him.
Those thoughts last only until I start reading what, exactly he sees.
A dusty room? Strange shapes in the darkness?
A boy, reading a book under a blanket???
I gulp. Suddenly, the nervousness returns to me full force, and I slowly raise my own head, searching for a mirror in this cluttered space. Surely, he's mistaken. He can't be seeing me. I'm not his reflection - he doesn't exist, for goodness' sake.
I find one with my eyes, before returning to the book. The shadow in the mirror, cracked in half, is dim and distant, and yet, I feel as if something is nudging me to look up - to look into the murky shadows in the broken mirror. The mirror in my attic seemingly encourages me to face the same test he does...
But that's ridiculous! This isn't true!
I frown incredulously and slowly raise my head.
He's there, in the mirror, looking straight into my soul. Behind him is snowy waste. I can hear the wind howling around his figure, I can see it in his dark hair, flying in a cloud around his shoulders and face. Snow had settled on his face and his clothes, and his eyes are as wide as mine are.
I can't help it but stare.
He's... Me?
But...
Impossible!
He doesn't exist... Does he???
Knowing what I do about that mirror, I stare, unable to tear my eyes away from the boy in the broken frame.
He's me?
Why does he see me?
I don't understand...
Why do I see that strange boy instead of my own reflection?
I don't understand.
How can Atreyu be my reflection?
As I stare in amazement into my reflection of the Magic Mirror Gate - which somehow reflects the dusty Attic of my school, I don't even think that in a few years, I'll be standing right next to him. How can I know it?
I don't.
I jump to my feet, staring in the reflection as it slowly starts fading. The book burns my hands, and I throw it away...
Then, curiosity overcomes my fear, and hesitantly I approach the book, as if it were a wounded animal and would snap at my hand if I'm too rough with it.
Hesitantly I take the book back into my hands. Its covers are warm, and the Auryn is reflecting the playful sun ray that is dancing on the floor where I sit.
It flips open where I left off.
I turn with my back to the mirror and continue reading...