Cameron Jace: Cinderella Dressed in Ashes

“One of his students claimed that the mirror whispered to her when she held it. She said the mirror claimed it had a name, the Anderson Mirror.

“The devil began to search for this Anderson but couldn’t find him because there were too many people who shared the name.

“Eventually the devil decided he didn’t care who’d invented such a wicked mirror. He intended to use it, so he walked to the edge of Hell and gazed through his telescope, peering over at Heaven. People were always too happy and giggly there, drinking milk from vines dangling from rainbow colored trees, swimming in milky rivers, and lazily having the time of their lives—well, afterlives in their case.

“Two ideas popped in the devil’s head in the shape of two ugly horns—that’s how he got his horns, by the way. They ended up being permanent tumors on his head. One of the ideas he forgot and could never remember. The other is the one I want to talk to you about.”

The girl in the back snickered again, making two horns with her finger. A few children imitated her. The woman in the veil directed one of her scary looks over the crowd of children again so they would stay silent.

“A big smile shone on the devil’s reddened face,” the woman continued, trying her best to appeal to the children. “He took the mirror and went over to the edge of Heaven, focusing it on people’s faces so they’d see the worst in themselves. He thought it would be a good way to tempt some of the people over there to join him. The devil never believed himself to be evil, actually. He thought all he did was bring out the worst in people, just as this Anderson Mirror did.

“Peering, like a peeping tom, at the pearly gates, the devil lost his balance and dropped the mirror.”

The children, still listening to the story, held their breath.

“The mirror fell all the way down to earth,” the woman stretched her arms like a magician toward the skies.

The children held hands and stared up at the night sky, worried.

“The evil mirror splintered into millions and millions of shards onto the world,” she narrated. “Each splinter tinier than a grain of sand, but filled with enough darkness to consume one’s soul.”

The children blinked their eyes, still staring at the sky above.

“The mirror’s splinters entered people’s eyes without their knowledge. No one got hurt, because evil never hurts in the beginning. It stays with you and grows until its final sting drops you to the floor.”

The children couldn’t take it anymore, lowering their heads and rubbing their eyes as if waking up from a bad dream. Some made their friends check their eyes for splinters.

“Although the troll-looking devil lost the mirror, he was in awe,” the masked woman said. “He didn’t have to do the hard work of making people evil, because the mirror, whose source was unknown, filled the world with evilness. It bothered him at first that he wasn’t the Prince of Darkness anymore but he tried not to think about it. There was greater darkness, pure, penetrating, and shining like a mirror .

“The people with splinters in their eyes were many,” the woman in the veil said. “They didn’t really notice at first but when their eyes glowed with a golden tint, the evil in them surfaced.”

The woman in the veil’s eyes flickered for a moment. She caught her breath and then asked, “Do you know of a woman called Justina?”

“Yeth,” the lisping girl said. “She is the Godmother of Justice. She tried to balance the good and evil in the world with a scale with one pan filled with apples, the other with snakes. Charmwill told us storieth about her.”

“Well, in that particular day when the splinters filled the world, Justina’s scale changed. The snakes on one side of the pan grew bigger and much heavier than the apples, so big that the scales almost broke.”

The children let out a muffled shriek.

“Who made this mirror?” the girl from the back asked.

“That’s the one question that’s been troubling everyone in the world,” the woman in the veil smirked and leaned back, “fairytale characters, the most.”

“Did the splinters reach them, too?” a boy said.

“But of course. It changed the destinies of characters, and turned some of the good into evil.”

“But you said evil is a point of view,” the girl from the back insisted.

“Well, it’s hard to explain,” the woman in the veil said. “Someday, when you grow up, you’ll understand what I mean.”

The children murmured to each other that her answer was typical of grown ups. Whenever adults were caught contradicting themselves they had to give vague answers like: it is hard to explain or you will understand when you grow up . “The effect the splinters had on the Fairyworld was one of the reasons why The Grimm Brothers forged the fairy tales into the happy stories you hate,” the woman in the veil added.

“But there must be some kind of cure,” the lisping girl cried out, “or maybe there is a hero who could rid the world of the evil splinters.”

“There is neither,” the woman in the veil said, sounding happy about it. “People think they can do something about the evil in the world, but they can’t. The splinters are always there. But,” she raised a finger. “There is a myth that the creator of the mirror left a clue somewhere.”

“A clue?” the children inquired.

“Yes.”

“What is a clue?” a boy asked.

“A clue is a hidden knowledge that serves as a solution to a big problem,” she said.

“What does that mean? We don’t understand,” most children protested.

“Shut up. A clue is a clue,” the woman lost her temper, only for a brief moment. “That clue was the secret to controlling the splinters. Of course, both the so-called good and evil folks wanted to get their hands on that clue. The good people thought if they find the clue, they’ll be able to save the world from all its darkness. The so-called evil people wanted to use it on a greater scale. They thought of actually ruling the world if they found the clue. Can you imagine how powerful one would be if they had control over the splinters in people’s eyes?”

“I bet the devil wanted it for himself,” the girl in the back said.

“Very true,” the woman in the veil said. “But I wouldn’t give the devil that much credit. The evil in the splinters was beyond his control. This was a power like no other.”

“What kind of clue did the Creator leave?” the lisping girl rubbed her chin.

The woman under the veil laughed, “I can’t tell you, because like every one else, I want the mirror. Let’s just say it’s hidden somewhere in the Dreamworld,” she whispered.

“That means that the Boy Who was a Shadow can get it,” a boy said. “He is a Dreamhunter.”

The woman’s forehead wrinkled slightly. “How do you know that he’s a Dreamhunter? Did Charmwill tell you that?”

“We also know that he was once a dark boy, a Huntsman, working for the Queen of Sorrow,” another girl said. “She thinks she is smart, but she will lose in the end.”

The woman stood up with anger in her eyes, “How do all of you know this? Charmwill could not have told you that!” she demanded.

“Of course, he didn’t. The last time he was here, he only told us he was going to see the boy,” the lisping girl said.

“Then how did you know?” The children heard the sound of grinding teeth coming from behind the veil.

“We learned some of the stories through this,” one girl stretched out her hand, revealing a piece of purple candy.

“What is this?” the woman tried to snatch it but the girl pulled away.

“It’s the magic candy he gave us before he left,” the girl in the back explained. “He said the candy would make us have happy dreams each night while we slept, but we discovered the candy revealed stories to us from all around the world. One of those was the Boy Who was a Shadow’s story and how Carmilla had his Fleece.”