Prologue

The Looking-Glass

Once upon a time, there lived a famous wizard who was feared by almost everyone in the Enchanted Forest. He went by a famous moniker: the Dark One. Anyone who heard his name would be struck by fear. No sane person dared talk about him, let alone visit him. The only exception would be if there was no other way to solve a problem other than to ask for his help. There was one hobgoblin from Hell who was in that unfortunate situation, and he came down to the Enchanted Forest to do just that.

The hobgoblin visited the Dark One in his famed residence, a broad and luxurious palace by the river. He was not entirely amazed by it; his place in Hell was much more preferable to him rather than a dark, ominous, castle. After passing through the gate, he found himself face to face with the door, which was made from the most desirable wood ever to exist and without hesitation, knocked on it demandingly. Being impatient with the Dark One's slow response, he was ready to burn the whole thing down, but the magician's voice emerged just in time.

"Well, a simple greeting would have sufficed," the imp stated rhetorically, standing just a few steps away from the hobgoblin's back. "That door was made by the most powerful magic in the realm, and that is far beyond your fire capabilities."

The hobgoblin studied the Dark One's look with a slight disgust on his face. He had met the most terrible wizard on every realm, but none of them had ever looked half crocodile and half demon, like him. Putting on a mocking smile, he realized that the wizard had no idea who he was. "My fire comes from Hell. The darkest realm that even you fear, Dark One," the hobgoblin claimed proudly.

"So I noticed, Demon. We haven't been properly introduced. Rumplestiltskin," he presented with a bow, rolling the "r" on his tongue, "or as others know me, the Dark One. That alone means I have nothing to be scared of." He took a mocking step forward to the hobgoblin. He could see the vanity in the arrogant creature's eyes gradually fade away.

"I'm impressed by your confidence. Good thing, because I came to ask you a big favor," the hobgoblin said, for he knew that the he was the only powerful wizard who could help him.

"You're interested in a deal, I take it? Come all the way here from Hell. What is it you want?" Rumplestiltskin inquired.

"I need you to help me make this looking-glass work," he answered, while extracting a mirror with an exquisite carved edge in his hand. But there was no reflection shown by the magic mirror. "I made this mirror and gave it the power of making everything good or beautiful reflected in it shrivel up to nothing, while everything that was worthless and bad looked worse than ever."

"Why would you desire that, dearie?" Rumplestiltskin asked again, needing to know the motive behind that elaborate evil device.

In sudden, the expression of his face turned to hatred, one look Rumplestiltskin knew all too well. "Because I want to carry the mirror to heaven, making fools of the angels and God. But something's wrong with the glass. I already did everything I could but nothing could make it work."

"I see why you need my help," Rumplestiltskin agreed with a nod of his head. "But I'll warn you, all magic comes with a price. And you'll owe me a very big favor."

"Only if you can make this glass work," the hobgoblin challenged him again.

"There's one favor you need to pay me in return, I believe it's an easy task for you."

The hobgoblin, who couldn't wait to make the deal right away, rolled his eyes impatiently. He didn't expect that making a deal with Rumplestiltskin would be this tricky. "What does the Dark One want? Land? Gold?"

"No, what the Dark One wishes for is far more deathly than that." He said with cynical grin spread across his face. "Bring me the Snow Queen. And this wicked looking-glass shall be yours."

~oOo~

The hobgoblin took the newly working mirror back from the Dark One's palace, in exchange of an amphora that the Dark One expected holding the Snow Queen. However, when Rumplestiltskin released the amphora, nothing happened. Nothing showed up from there but dusts and dirt. The entire realm knows that no one breaks a deal with Rumplestiltskin. But the hobgoblin, who thought of his own so highly, was bold and ditched the deal to run away back to where he came from, Hell. Rumplestiltskin who was so raged, made a magic replacement from his palace, hoping it would affect the looking-glass.

"No one breaks deals with me, dearie—no one." Rumplestiltskin raged against the hobgoblin's falsehood. His hand threw away the amphora all the way to the end of the room. "No matter where you are, no matter what land you find yourself in, I assure you, you will not get what you want."

Meanwhile, in Hell, the hobgoblin had succeeded in bringing back the looking glass. He showed off to the demons. All who went there discussed the wonders they had seen, and declared that people could now, for the first time, see what the world and mankind were really like. They even brought the glass to heaven. But when they ran up to heaven, the more slippery the glass's edge became. Then it started to wobble very hard until it slipped from their hands and fell.

The glass was broken into million pieces, scattering around the realm and time. Some of the fragments were very small, as small as the tiniest flake of snow. And some were so large that they could be a used as window-panes. If one of the broken glasses were to fly into a person's eye, it would stick there without him knowing. From that moment on, he would see everything through a distorted medium, and therefore could only see the worst side of what he looked at. If it is stuck in their hearts, their hearts will become cold as of a lump of ice. They no longer recognize empathy or compassion. Any traces of love are overpowered by hate's dark force. All the wicked hobgoblins laughed at the mischief he had done. Their plan to mock heaven may not have succeeded, but this was far better. Now everyone could see the true beauty of their looks, they thought.

However, there were still a number of these little fragments of glass floating about in the thin air, and now you shall hear what happened with one of them, in Storybrooke.

A/N: Thanks for reading! Feel free to ask some questions via PM or comment.