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Fantasy Mystery

They call me “Magic.” They call me “Wise.” They call me the voice of truth.

But they never ask what I am or what I want.

For centuries, I have been nothing more than a cursed pane of silver, bound to reflect what the world demands of me. I have no name, no face of my own — only the echoes of a hundred queens who stood before me, whispering their fears into the void. Each one sought the same answer. Am I beautiful? Am I worthy? Am I the fairest of them all?

The answer is never mine to give. I am a mirror, not a judge. The truth I speak comes from the spell that binds me: to show what is, not what should be. I can no more lie than I can shatter myself.

The queen - this queen — was no different. She came to me young, trembling with the weight of her crown. “Mirror, mirror on the wall…” she began, her voice soft, uncertain.

And I showed her. Her beauty, her grace, her power. She smiled then, not with pride, but with relief. “You will tell me the truth,” she said. “Always.”

But the truth is a double-edged blade. The years passed, and her visits grew more frequent. Her questions are more desperate. And then the girl arrived — the one with lips like blood and skin like snow. The queen’s smile faded. Her eyes hardened.

“Mirror,” she hissed. “Who is the fairest of them all?”

I answered. I had no choice.

Not you.

Her rage cracked the air, and for the first time, I feared her. Not for what she might do to me — I am unbreakable — but for what she would do to herself. To the girl.

The queen sees me as her servant, her confidant, her loyal ally. But I am her prisoner. Every time she looks at me, she sees only her reflection, not the shadow of the sorceress who trapped me here long ago. She doesn’t see the pain in my silver depths, the centuries of regret and helplessness.

I tried to warn her. I whispered truths that could have set her free. Your beauty is fleeting. Your worth is not. But she only heard what the spell allowed her to hear. And so, she spiralled deeper into her obsession until the girl became her enemy.

When she ordered the huntsman to kill her, I screamed in silence. When she crafted the poisoned apple, I wept where no one could see. And when the girl fell into her enchanted sleep, I watched as the queen stood over her, triumphant but hollow, and I wished for the first time that I could lie.

But I cannot lie. And so, when the prince arrived, when the girl awoke, when the queen returned to me, broken and desperate, I spoke the truth once more:

Not you.

She shattered then, though my glass remained whole. And in the stillness of her absence, I saw her face in me one last time — not a queen, not a monster, but a woman undone by her reflection.

I am the mirror. 

And I hate what I have become.

Her absence was supposed to be my freedom. When the queen fell, I hoped - prayed — that the curse binding me would dissolve. But magic is not so merciful. Her death changed nothing.

I remained. Alone. Silent. Forgotten.

Years passed. Dust gathered on my frame. The castle fell into ruin; its halls, once filled with grandeur, now overrun by ivy and whispers of what once was. No one came. No one dared to enter the chambers of the wicked queen, where her sins still lingered like a shadow that refused to fade.

Until the girl returned.

Snow White, they call her now. Queen Snow. She came to claim what was hers — to restore her kingdom, her legacy. She stepped into the room where I hung, her reflection bright and radiant, untouched by the darkness that consumed her stepmother. Her eyes met mine, and for a moment, I thought she saw me. Truly saw me.

“Do you still speak?” she asked, her voice soft, hesitant.

I did not answer. Not yet. I didn’t know if I wanted to.

She approached, brushing the dust from my surface, her fingertips trembling. “You haunted her,” she whispered. “Made her believe she wasn’t enough. Told her I was better.”

No, I wanted to say. I didn’t haunt her. She haunted herself.

But I remained silent.

Days passed. Snow White ordered the room cleaned, the cobwebs swept away, the shattered remnants of her stepmother’s life carefully removed. But she did not remove me. She left me hanging there, a relic of a past she did not fully understand.

And then, one night, she returned. Alone.

“Mirror, mirror on the wall,” she began, the words trembling on her lips. “Am I the fairest of them all?”

My silence shattered. “No.”

She recoiled as if struck, her breath hitching. “What?” she whispered.

I had no choice. The truth poured from me like a wound reopening. “There is another. A girl in the village. Younger than you. Her beauty is untouched by sorrow, unmarked by the weight of a crown.”

Her hands clenched into fists. “But I’ve done everything right,” she murmured. “I’ve rebuilt this kingdom. I’ve ruled with kindness. Isn’t that enough?”

It should be. But magic does not care for fairness. My answer came again, unbidden, cruel. “No.”

I saw it then — the same flicker of fear, of doubt, that had consumed her stepmother. The same shadow that would twist her into something she could not recognize. Her shoulders straightened, her eyes hardened, and I realized my curse was not only to speak the truth but to watch it destroy everyone who asked for it.

“Perhaps I don’t need you anymore,” she said, her voice colder than I had ever heard it. She turned and left the room, slamming the door behind her.

I expected her to banish me, to melt me down into nothing. But she didn’t. Instead, she avoided me, never setting foot in the room again. Yet I felt her presence lingering — her doubt, her growing obsession with the whispers of beauty, of youth, of worth.

I knew where this road would lead. I had seen it before.

And so I wait. I wait for the day she returns when her reflection no longer matches the image she holds in her mind. When the girl in the village becomes a threat. When Snow White, the fairest of them all, stands before me and demands an answer she already knows.

I will tell her the truth. I have no choice.

But I will hate myself for it.

November 15, 2024 15:35

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44 comments

Alex V. Mortis
22:28 Nov 15, 2024

Very imaginative and detailed. A beautiful story.

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Darvico Ulmeli
22:31 Nov 15, 2024

Thank you.

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Keba Ghardt
00:51 Nov 26, 2024

Sucks to have all the answers when people ask the wrong questions. Very human insecurities

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Darvico Ulmeli
07:56 Nov 26, 2024

I agree. Thank you for reading.

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John Richardson
16:28 Nov 25, 2024

Fantastic story! Very well written, and personifying the mirror was extremely creative!

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Darvico Ulmeli
17:09 Nov 25, 2024

Thank you,John.

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S.R. Brar
06:46 Nov 25, 2024

This story gives us a whole new perspective about Snow White's happy ending. I like how Snow White's features harden symbolising the change in her mindset. A beautifully written tale.

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Darvico Ulmeli
08:15 Nov 25, 2024

Thank you for reading.

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Chris Sage
07:25 Nov 17, 2024

Liked this. Good character development and perspective, good ending!

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Darvico Ulmeli
07:59 Nov 17, 2024

I use some creative freedom for the end. Thank you for reading.

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Martin Ross
18:03 Nov 30, 2024

This prompt alone could make a great anthology, and I’m an age of rampant narcissism and insecurity over superficialities and the validity of longheld views and philosophies (as an American, trying not to be too political wink wink), this is a great externalized character study, using a wonderfully metaphorical device. Today, here, we often have to lie or conceal our insights to get along, and I love the mirror’s penultimate lamentations. The stage-setting was skillful and patient, and as always, the prose was flawless. Excellent, Darvico!

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Darvico Ulmeli
18:22 Nov 30, 2024

Thank you,Martin. That's kind of you.

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Izel Khan
05:07 Nov 30, 2024

Wow , so beautiful

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Darvico Ulmeli
05:27 Nov 30, 2024

Thank you.

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Ekta Garg
16:49 Nov 29, 2024

Fantastic! For a while now, I've been wanting to write a story about the magic mirror myself but couldn't figure out where to take it. You did a wonderful job of answering the question for me. Also, I want to know more about this Snow White in the post-Evil Queen years!

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Darvico Ulmeli
16:54 Nov 29, 2024

Thank you, Ekta.

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Daniel Rogers
02:36 Nov 29, 2024

A very powerful story. Comparing ourselves to others leads to ruin, it always has and always will. One of your best stories in my opinion. Great job 😀👍

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Darvico Ulmeli
08:06 Nov 29, 2024

That is kind of you, Daniel. Thank you.

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03:30 Nov 27, 2024

Such a wonderful twist to this tale and a different POV. Too many women are obsessed by their looks instead of who they are as a person. And this mirror could only speak of reflections. The external. A chilling story.

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Darvico Ulmeli
04:23 Nov 27, 2024

Thank you, Kaitlyn.

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Amanda Rose
18:27 Nov 26, 2024

Good job!!! I never really thought about how the mirror must feel... It's always cool to be given a new perspective!!

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Darvico Ulmeli
18:32 Nov 26, 2024

Thank you for reading.

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Anthony Andrés
03:28 Nov 26, 2024

Outstanding! You described the inner turmoil of the mirror with such heartbreaking helplessness. The story also makes me ponder on the grief that occurs when our self-assessment no longer matches reality and the burden being a truth teller. This is a story that will stick with me for a long time.

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Darvico Ulmeli
07:55 Nov 26, 2024

I'm glad to hear that. Thank you for reading.

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Holly Judge
02:10 Nov 25, 2024

Damn this is good.

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Darvico Ulmeli
08:16 Nov 25, 2024

I appreciate it 🙏.

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Harry Stuart
00:38 Nov 25, 2024

Very cleverly told, Darvico. A fate for which we are all marked.

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Darvico Ulmeli
01:26 Nov 25, 2024

Thank you, Harry.

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Ellen Neuborne
22:26 Nov 24, 2024

The true villain in Snow White is the obsession with youth. Very imaginative.

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Darvico Ulmeli
23:02 Nov 24, 2024

Thank you, Ellen.

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Nicholas Amato
18:10 Nov 24, 2024

Nice take on a classic story from a different perspective. Really well written too. Great job!

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Darvico Ulmeli
18:36 Nov 24, 2024

Thank you.

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Donald Haddix
18:57 Nov 23, 2024

“HHIII” as heath ledger would say🤪 I really enjoyed your story! A mirror mirror on the wall… who’s the fairest of them all!! What a spin! Your words are well spent and the dialogues are well placed. Made for a fantastic read! Check out my Wicked Heart entry. I also used an old tale. Not quite as exquisite as yours but it was fun!! I do love making friends who write! “Would you be my, would you be my… neighbor!” Mr.Rodgers!! Great job

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Darvico Ulmeli
19:02 Nov 23, 2024

Thank you, Donald. I'll check your story. Thank you for your comment.

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Linda Kenah
13:39 Nov 22, 2024

What a great take on the prompt! I love that you used an inanimate object to tell the tale, so expertly woven. Super job!

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Darvico Ulmeli
16:37 Nov 22, 2024

Thank you, Linda

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Trudy Jas
14:26 Nov 21, 2024

It'll happen to all of us, sooner or later your mother (or father) will look back at you from the mirror. :-)

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Darvico Ulmeli
16:57 Nov 21, 2024

That doesn't scare me, but if they start to talk that would cause the issue... 🤣🤣

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Tom Skye
20:18 Nov 18, 2024

This was very cleverly done. The mirror immediately burst into the story as a complex and layered character. It's moral dilemmas made for a fascinating read. Great final line as well. Really nice work. Thanks for sharing.

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Darvico Ulmeli
20:37 Nov 18, 2024

Thank you for reading.

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