Once upon a time there lived a boy by the name of Tony who didn’t know what to do.
“Mom, I am bored, can you tell me what do?” he would often ask his mom.
“Why don’t you read or draw?” his mom often suggested.
“Oh no, don’t want to do that”, the boy would reply.
“Maybe you want to help me sweep the floor?”
“Nope, that’s no fun either”.
“Maybe you want to go out and play?”
“Nope, none of my friends are out, neither will I go.”
Whatever his mother suggested, the boy wasn’t interested.
“What do you want to do then?” asked his mother one day.
“Can I maybe look into the mirror?” the boy asked hesitantly.
“No” said his mother firmly, “you should never ever look into that mirror.”
“Why not, you allow me to look into it sometimes, to brush my hair.
But his mom would not be gainsaid.
“What is it about that mirror?” the boy wondered silently.
So one day, when mom was very busy in the kitchen cooking tons of food for his birthday party, he decided to peep into it. The mirror stood in the corner covered with a white cloth. The boy came closer to it, pulled off the corner of the cloth and looked in.
There he saw his own face but then, after a while, it seemed to him that it grew sturdier, more fearless, more manly than usual.
“Wow,” he thought, "do I really look so brave?” He pulled the covering off the mirror and kept looking. He saw the room behind him transforming into a large hall of hunting trophies which were hung on the walls, and he saw himself as a brave huntsman, dressed in fine clothes with a long rifle hanging over his shoulder.
“Could it be me?” the boy exclaimed in delight and covered his mouth with a hand so as not to let his mom know he was there. But then he heard someone’s steps approaching and quickly put the covers back on and rushed out of the room.
“You should pick up your toys before your guests come”, his dad said entering the room. “Have you forgotten it’s your birthday?”
But the boy seemed not to hear him. In fact, he had almost forgotten that it was his birthday and he was expecting his friends to come over. “If only I could take another look into that mirror”, was all he could think about, “I would be quite happy.” So when his dad went out to buy a dozen eggs, and having checked that his mom was elbow deep in dough, the boy sneaked into their bedroom again and pulled off the cover.
After a moment or two he saw himself riding a swift black horse through the woods, chasing a wild boar. He had a spear in his hand lifted up over the head and was about to throw it as he was closing in on the prey. “Am I really like that? the boy could not believe his eyes. “You are”, replied the mirror in a velvety voice, “just stay with me a little while longer and I will show you many things.” “No, I should probably go,” the boy hesitated, “after all, mom and dad never look into the mirror for too long”. But before he had time to think, the mirror showed him a group of huntsmen, dressed all in the same manner. They all shouted and cheered as they saw him approaching with the wild boar hung over his saddle. “Hail, the greatest of all hunters!” shouted the great company, “hail, the fastest of all riders! Come and lead us in a great adventure that lies ahead.”
The boy couldn’t resist that. “I am coming”, he shouted back and leaned forward as if to step into the mirror. The next moment he felt that he was falling down sucked in by a mighty whirlwind.
“Where is our boy”, the mom asked when she saw the father walking in through the front door with a dozen eggs.
“Don’t know, probably picking up his toys”, answered the father calmly and called: “Tony, where are you?” There was no answer. He started looking for him but he was nowhere to be found. “Can’t find him,” called out the father. The mother joined him and together they ransacked the house looking for Tony in every nook and cranny, but all in vain. Then, entering their bedroom once again, the mother stopped short of the mirror and cried in dismay: “Look!” The father ran up and saw that the mirror stood uncovered. Suddenly they both knew in their hearts what had happened. Tony had been taken captive by the magic mirror.
“How terrible! Can we do anything to save him?” said the mother bursting into tears. The father took her hand and stood motionless for a while, deep in thought. Then he said: “He is in an endless wasteland now. I know, I have been there before”.
“Have you?” asked the mother in amazement. “What is it like?”
“It’s like a vast desert strewn with trash, dead carcasses and filth of every kind”.
“Why would he want to go there if it’s such a dismal place?” asked the mother.
“Because he’s under the spell of the mirror. The mirror showed him many powerful visions, phantoms appeared to him. He will always think he’s one step away from his dream. But the mirror will deceive him, leading him on and on, withering his mind with ever new delusions but never satisfying. In the end, he will be chained to a high wall and taught the language of the wasteland. After that he will never be himself again for he will see things the way the mirror sees things.”
“Oh no,” exclaimed the mother, “we can’t let that happen to him! We must save him.”
“That we must,” answered the father sternly, “but to do that, we will have to go into the mirror-land ourselves, find him and hope that we can bring him back. The longer he stays under the power of the mirror, the more words of poison he hears and the more he forgets his own language. If we are too late, I am afraid he won’t be able to understand us”, concluded the father.
“Then what are we waiting for?” said the mother impatiently, “how do you get inside this thing?” With this, she picked up a stool wishing to crack the mirror open, but the father stopped her.
“You can't get in there this way. All you have to do is look into the mirror long enough and pretend to follow its lead. We will go wherever it takes us, trying to resist the spell before we reach the wasteland.”
So there they stood looking at their own reflections in the mirror for quite a while for it seemed the mirror knew their minds and wasn’t sure what to show. But then a queer change came over it. The picture trembled as if from bitter cold, showing the same room but with the mother and father much older, grey-haired and very sad. They were alone. Tony wasn’t there. The picture was so real that the mother couldn’t bear it a moment longer. “No!” she cried, “I won’t let that happen” and, taking a step forward she fell into an abyss as if sucked in by a mighty whirlwind, shutting her eyes in dismay.
When she opened her eyes, she was sitting on a cold stone with the father beside her holding her hand. "Where are we?" she asked looking around and shivering, “it felt as if I was falling into my worst dream.” “That’s where you would have fallen if I didn't grab your hand at the last moment. I know the power of the spell, so I pretended I was following you, and then I resisted the will of the mirror by not letting it show me what it wished. Instead, I chose my own way", he added, “I have some memory of this place”.
“What is this filthy place?” wondered the mother, scanning the slimy landscape lined with junk and dead bones.
“It’s a graveyard. The prisoners of the mirror who have wandered in the wasteland for too long end up here, with all their strength sucked out by phantoms, their wills enslaved, and their hearts empty. That’s what remains of them.”
The mother shuddered at his words but the father seemed to know her thoughts. “If we don't see our boy here it means he is not here – yet. And this is good news. I have looked all around while you were dreaming. He’s not here.”
“Thanks goodness. What shall we do now?” asked the mother.
“He must be on his way to the high wall to which he will be chained. We must go there. I know the way", answered the father and off they went down a slimy trail with boulders and sharp rocks in their way.
After a short while, the mother noticed a strange humming noise. “What is it?” she asked. “I hear a noise, but I can't make out any distinct sounds”.
“There aren’t any. It’s a chant of the wasteland, a monotonous mind-withering mockery of a song which ever plays at the back of your mind to weaken your spirit, blunt your perceptions, and make you forget your way. It’s also poisonous – if you keep listening to it, a feeling of weariness and boredom will settle over you making you helpless before the whispers of the phantoms. So let’s hurry.”
They picked up their pace. After quite a long time, or so it seemed to them, a huge wall loomed against the horizon, blocking the dim sunlight. The closer they got, the more groans they heard, the mother trying to make out her son’s voice in the humming of the wind. “Look”, she cried suddenly and pointed to a dark cavern.
Turning west, the father saw Tony leaning against a stony wall, looking as if he had finally found a great treasure. He stood there, his hands spread out, and four black chains grew out of the wall, creeping to his wrists and ankles. He didn't seem to mind, still hugging the wall.
“Tony”, cried the mother, “come here, sonny! Get away from that wall!” Tony turned round and looked at her with dreamlike eyes. Then he said something in a strange and fell tongue which sounded more like a sneer than speech.
“Tony, do you understand me? cried the father as they ran up to him. The boy opened his mouth and yet another sneer or growl rumbled in the air.
“Are we too late?” asked the mother with despair in her eyes.
“He doesn’t understand our speech anymore,” sighed the father.
The mother sat down at the rock beside her son and wept. Then a strange thing happened. Suddenly she rose and stood straight as if listening to the wind or seeing a vision. A phantom-like wind hummed around her hissing and whispering something in her ears. She smiled as if half in a dream and started walking toward an abrupt precipice.
“Stop, honey”, cried the father, “don’t listen to him, don’t follow him, it’s a delusion”. But alas, the mother was in a dream of her own, muttering to herself: “Yes, Tony, I will fly with you."
The father dashed toward her but found he couldn’t move – two thick chains bound his feet to the rock he was standing on.
“Tony, he cried, Tony, save your mother, I can't move and you are still unchained!” Tony stood motionless, hugging the wall. “Tony,” pleaded the father, “it will be too late soon. Let go of this wall, save your mother!" There was no answer.
Then the father bent and reached out his hand to pick up a thick metal rod that happened to be lying by. Then, straightening up and holding the rod like a club, he swung it as hard as he could against the wall cracking it in many places near the spot where Tony stood.
“No,” growled Tony in the human speech, “don’t you dare touch my dream". But the father wouldn’t listen, blowing away at the wall as hard as he could.
Tony was enraged. He jumped at his father furiously and tried to bite him, but of course, being only a child, he couldn’t stop him. “Stop it, stop it, dad, what am I going to do without it,” he cried. In a few mighty blows the wall to which Tony had to be chained shook, leant sideways and crushed with a deafening rumble.
“What have you done?” said Tony in a menacing but distinctly human voice as he picked up the chunks of the wall and held them close to his heart. Then, he heard him mom's voice calling at a distance: "Tony, Tony, I am coming to fly with you." He looked up and saw his mother slowly walking up the terrible precipice. And he understood what she had said! His hands started shaking as he looked at his mom and then again at the crumbling chunks of the wall that he was holding on to. He was about to dash forward but hesitated, still looking at the wrecks of his dream in front of him. Then he heard a voice calling out to his mom from a distance which he hadn't heard before. And it was his own voice! He saw a phantom of himself hanging in the air in the form of a two-winged creature calling out to his mother: "Come, mother, we will be alright, now that we have wings. Let’s jump together".
“No!, cried Tony and, letting go of the precious wreckage he was holding on to, he rushed forward to her rescue. Yet even before he had a chance to reach her, the very moment the chunks fell out of his embrace, the scene shook and crumbled before his eyes and a mighty whirlwind swirled him into an impenetrable darkness.
“Tony, Tony, wake up, sleepy", he heard his mom’s voice and opened his eyes. “Guests are coming in a few minutes, and you still have to clean up your room.” Tony got up from the floor where he had evidently fallen asleep. "Was that a dream?" he asked in a raspy voice looking at his mom searchingly. “Yes, dear, it was a dream”, answered the mother and with a smile went back to the kitchen to finish up with her pies. Tony stood there a moment, still not quite believing his eyes, and then, bending over to pick up his toys, he saw small crumbs of rock falling from his hair. Trembling all over, he cast a quick glance at the mirror through the open door of the bedroom and saw a corner of it uncovered. At that moment it seemed to him that he caught a glimpse of a glorious trophy hall calling and beckoning him from another world. Tony got up. His face suddenly grew stern, bold and manly, and, going into the bedroom, he picked up the corner of the cloth and put it back in place.