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A fairy-tale: The face in the mirror


sniegas
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Summary: One day prince saw a face of beautiful youth in his mirror, though he was alone in his room. What was that stranger - he didn't know but he fell madly in love with him...

Status: Completed

 

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The face in the mirror

 

Once there was the prince in the land of East. One morning he was sitting in front of his silver mirror and combing his long black hair. His reflection was combing his hair too. Then suddenly something else appeared in the mirror. There was another reflection – the face of very beautiful young man who had almond-shaped eyes with long eye-lashes, skin as white as the blooms of the cherry-tree and lips as pink as the petals of the peach-tree. He wore his hair in the topknot as all the aristocrats did at that time. The youth’s clothes were made from the soft, violet silk embroidered with golden threads. The reflection of this man (it seemed that he finally noticed that the prince was looking at him) smiled. Then the prince turned back because he wanted to see that strange man and he’s thought that the youth was standing right behind him. But… there was no one in the sunlit room. And when the prince turned to his mirror again he saw that the youth was there still. His eyes were a bit sad. The reflection of the stranger suddenly lifted his hands and touched the hair of the prince in the reflection caressing it with his graceful fingers. Of course, the real prince didn’t feel anything but wanted to… He sighed then pinned his hair up with the ivory pin adorned with the red tassels. His reflection did the same thing in the mirror. The stranger’s face was there but suddenly he disappeared like he would be made from the mist. Now the mirror was reflecting only one person again. Sad… how sad it was to think about such beauty which was even more fragile than the morning’s dew…

 

All that day the prince was dreamy. Even when he was listening to the reports of his generals or giving the orders to his ministers and servants, even when he was having a meal with his guests the prince very often became silent in the middle of his speech and in front of his eyes he saw not his army, not the columns of the numbers or the faces of his companions but that ghost from the mirror. And because of him the prince has forgotten everything else.

 

Finally the night came again. It was nearly midnight when and the prince was getting ready to the bed. He unbound his hair and into the mirror. Then, after a moment the same beautiful face which belonged to the youth appeared there. The only difference was that then the prince could see tiredness in those dark eyes. The stranger’s hair was unbounded too and it was streaming on his shoulders like the black river. He was wearing white nightclothes. The prince was so happy to see him… He even reached out and touched the surface of the mirror where the face of the youth was. Of course, he felt only the coldness of the metal there, nothing more. But the youth in the mirror smiled at him and closed his eyes as if he was feeling the caress. The prince felt dizzy all of the sudden… It was so strange after all. But despite all that strangeness, he felt deep affection to this ghost. And that secret belonged to him alone… Before going to sleep, the prince couldn’t resist his desire anymore and he kissed the youth’s reflection. Then suddenly the metal of the mirror has dimmed because of his breath or some inner laws and the reflection disappeared.

 

So the weeks passed. When the prince was combing his hair or dressing for the ceremonies he could see in the mirror not only his own reflection but that which belonged to the strange aristocrat too. Sometimes the prince tried to touch that reflection again but he never felt any warmth, only the cold metal where it was supposed to be. Just… there were times when he could swear that someone was touching his hair with the careful fingers, fixing the folds of his cloak although he was alone in his room. In the mirror he could always see the beautiful smile of that strange youth. The prince was admiring him more and more each day. His pretty face, his gentle eyes and fine clothes. Sometimes it seemed that you could smell the sweet fragrance of the jasmine or the narcissus although there weren’t any flowers in the price’s room. The prince was going out of his mind slowly. One moment he could be very happy almost ecstatic, the other moment he could become very sad. His mood was changing really quickly. The ministers and servants were loosing their temper with him because of his sudden whims. Their master could begin to sing or cry like a child all of the sudden and no one knew the reason. The prince began to carry the hand-mirror with him everywhere because he was hoping that the ghost could appear in it too. But it seemed that he could see his companion only in the mirror which was in his room and only when he was alone there.

 

Such was the life of the prince obsessed with that one thought, that one desire. The prince cared for nothing else anymore. Finally he himself became scarred of that whole thing so he secretly called the Buddhist monk to his rooms. The monk tried to exorcise an evil spirit that has obsessed the prince’s mirror but all his efforts were in vain: the other day when the prince was alone in his room he saw that ghost again leaning over his shoulder in the mirror. He even felt the youth’s lips on his cheek. And at that moment prince was happy. He even became scarred of the thought how it would be if the ghost couldn’t appear in front of him anymore. So the prince strictly rejected the monk when he suggested to smelt the mirror and to make from that cursed silver some prayer-wheels for the monastery.

 

Obsessed by the devil or not, the prince was very stubborn: he believed that there was somewhere that young aristocrat whom he has seen in his enchanted mirror. So the prince ordered his best painters to do some portraits of him and then he sent some of his men to search for that man on all the noble houses. More than anything in this world the prince wanted to find his vision, his ghost in reality. Unfortunately his servants didn’t find anything although they have visited all the vassals of the prince and even his enemies. Their master hasn’t fallen into despair after that: he just told then to continue searching. But then suddenly the war started and all other things were forgotten.

 

The kingdom was in chaos at that time: even the peasants were making the weapons from their working tools, the smiths were working day and night without a break making the spears and the swords, the soldiers were guarding the gates of the cities and all the noblemen were strengthening the walls of their castles. Only the prince didn’t care about all of this: wearing his armors he fought in the battles without any fear in his heart. He killed without an anger or sadness because all of his soul belonged to that strange ghost of the mirror. And the world seemed to him nothing more than an illusion just like the monks said about it.

 

Unfortunately, the prince’s army has lost almost every battle. His cities and villages were seized by the enemies one by one and burnt down. The habitants were killed off cruelly. It was even difficult to imagine such horror. But the prince cared about nothing. When only the capital city was left to him the prince locked himself up in his palace and ordered not to disturb him at any case. The enemies were trying to invade the city and the remains of the city’s army tried to prevent their entering but it was evident that they couldn’t withstand an attack much longer. The capital city was already lost to them. And the enemies knew that it would surrender till the dawn.

 

All that time the prince were sitting in his room in front of the mirror. He was talking:

- You don’t understand, - He said. – You can’t hear when I say that I love you. And I don’t have any time left for my love. Like the cold winter’s wind that frosts the plum tree too early in flower this untimely war didn’t left me the time to find you…

 

When the prince talked the sad almond-shaped eyes were watching him from the depth of the mirror. The face of the reflection looked very pale and the clothes of this youth was made from the tick white silk without any trimming that day – the clothes of death. Suddenly the tears began to stream down the youth’s cheeks. It seemed that he has sensed some terrible disaster coming. The prince smiled at him sadly.

- I would want to find you… - He said. – Maybe someday…

 

At that moment the bells began to toll in the towers of the city. The shout of the people could be heard too – it was even louder than the roar of the giant bells. This was the sign that the enemies have finally entered the capital city. Listening to the sounds of the battle that was nearing every second the prince without a hurry put his letters and documents he had written on the table. He took off his cloak embroidered with the golden dragons, unbound his long hair and drew out his sword. All that time he was stealing glances at the mirror and his beloved was watching him too from there. When the door of the room began to shake from the strong blows of the enemies’ soldiers the prince wrapped the blade with the hem of his robe and took the last glance at the mirror. His beloved was looking at him with such a sad face that that prince almost break down himself. But he managed to stay composed and simply said:

- Good-bye.

Then he fell down on his sword. And just the moment before his death, when his body was shaking and he has almost lost his conscience the prince felt the kiss on his lips – warm as the one of the living.

 

When the enemies’ soldiers has finally smashed the door and entered to the room the prince was dead already, lying in front of the marvelous silver mirror. But when the general who wanted to take that mirror himself tried to brush off the blood that was splashed on it’s surface he couldn’t do that: it seemed that the blood was absorbed by the metal becoming the part of it so the mirror couldn’t be cleaned. In the end the soldiers left the mirror with the prince. He was buried and the temple was built over his tomb. The mirror was brought there too. The specks of blood on it’s surface never disappeared. Most of the time mirror was hidden under the trellis of the cedar-wood. The mirror was revealed only at the time of the festivals. There were a lot of people who has saw the strange thing in that holy mirror: the reflection of two young men – one dressed like the prince, the other – like the nobleman. They were standing side by side and looking at the visitors. It was said that your wishes will come true if you pray in that temple. And the people called the ghost of the prince kokoro-no-kami – The God of The Heart.

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  • 5 months later...
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  • sniegas

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  • dannYves

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Poor prince! I thought they will be able to meet somehow. I was really sad that he died! :msn_red_fox 18 I loved the story!

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Thank you very much ;)

p. s. I think that the prince and his lover has met in the other world, ne?;) There's always hope - when you love with all your heart and soul;)

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another tragedy literary work TT. WHy did he .. (*no spoiler) this is nice, agree i hope they met in the other world, or i so thought the nobleman will go outside the mirror. TT :cuteonion58:

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I liked the fairytale! I agree, Sniegas, it's always hope they will met in the other world! I liked the open ending. rabbit14

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  • 11 months later...

So sad but I enjoyed it and liked it. Though I'm not a tragedy fan but this one was good adding with fantasy.

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  • 3 months later...

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