When I took a second look at the attic, with more light, it actually looked better than it had before. Like when the castle in Disney’s Beauty and the Beast transforms back to normal once the spell is broken. Standing there, still not knowing where to start though, I noticed something reflecting light straight into my eye. I turned and saw a large something, almost entirely covered up by a long piece of thick fabric, except for a corner that shown a mirror was underneath.
My first thought, unlike normal people, was if it could be a Magic Mirror. I mean, it had to be, right? They wouldn’t want Grandfather just randomly appearing in the middle of Central Park did they? Or have King Wendell and Princess Rose do that too, right? I mean it would make sense. Especially when I thought about how Mother said she was working on a sequel to her book. She never told me it was fiction, never told me it wasn’t either but still.
With my heart racing and tail slightly wagging I yanked the cloth off of the mirror. Yes, it did look just like an antique mirror, but I knew from the stories that usually the Magic Mirror had some sort of “on switch”. Whether it was turning some sort of knob or a particular phrase…. I thought back quickly to if the phrases even worked anymore. Grandfather had said something once about of the Mirror Makers and basically changed it so each one had sort of switched or knobs so I started looking for the trigger.
Funnily enough, this mirror looked a lot like the Magic Mirror my grandfather had broken and had gotten bad luck for. It had the more Celtic design and the circle things in the design unlike other mirrors. Of course, after noticing this, I started trying to see if the circle things moved like when my mother had turned on that mirror after winning it in the Sheppardess Competition. When I got to the one on that was just below the top, right-hand corner, it moved slightly. I instantly moved my hand away.
Even though I had wanted this for so long I wasn’t sure how to approach the situation. I knew this mirror was going to open up somewhere in King Wendell’s castle from what Grandfather had said in passing, so that wasn’t an issue. I knew that as long as I locked up, and left a note for my parents, nothing really could go wrong. The mirror would stay on, and really I could leave the Nine Kingdoms any time. I mean, really if I just paid attention to how many days I was there I could come back before my birthday and Mother and Father wouldn’t be too mad.
It was after this thought, that I decided that I would pack a bag and travel to a place where I wasn’t such a freak, but really deemed a hero.
Though I was home alone, and could do pretty much whatever I wanted - even throw numerous, law-breaking parties - I didn’t. I actually kept to myself mostly, sometimes ordered food because my parents always left a credit card with me, but I rarely had people over. (One of my best friends, actually, had never been to my house when I was by myself. ‘Course I couldn’t invite him now, however, because he was already gone away to college.) Sometimes I went out around the city to buy some stuff I needed, or to the park just around the area where the original Magic Mirror to this world, had opened up to.
I’ve always wanted to go to the Nine Kingdoms on my own terms, without my parents, and without a time limit. I had gone there, once when I was little but never again. See, I didn’t know I wasn’t allowed to tell other kids what I had seen or that my mother’s book was real not fiction. So basically, I caused too much chaos and my parents never wanted to risk it. My grandfather had come over to New York a few times but always went back. Even though Mother had tried to get him to stay, saying that he could make him comfortable financially, he went back. One time, and only once, King Wendell came over with his daughter. I had just turned thirteen and they came to celebrate. Princess Rose was less than a year younger than me so she was very excited to explore the nicer sides of New York. I have to say, at the time all her questions got aggravating but at this point? I’d give anything to see her again.
Still daydreaming of the world where I belonged, I grabbed a tee shirt out of my room with a quick thought of how I didn’t want to cook bacon without a shirt on. But when I made my way to the kitchen, I realized I wasn’t hungry or thirsty. Sounds like some sort of apocalypse for a teenage boy, who happens to be part wolf, not to be hungry. But oh well. Maybe I was sick or something. I checked to see if the dishes needed doing but seeing as I had ordered Chinese food last night to last me a couple days, I was alright on that front. I then walked over to list of things needing to be done on the fridge.
I had scratched off almost all of the things, even though it was only the beginning of the summer holiday. I don’t mind cleaning, especially when I was the reason for the mess. So all that was left was to clean and reorganize the attic. I actually had never been up there so I didn’t even know what cleaning supplies I should grab. I knew I would be throwing some things away that were mine but I also knew that anything that was not mine in any way, especially when it wasn’t from this “Kingdom” to not throw it away. I wasn’t really supposed to be moving too much stuff around other than cardboard boxes full of stuff.
I made my way to the hallway that had the pull down ladder to the attic and, well, pulled the ladder down. I climbed it carefully and when I got to the landing, the first thing I did was turn on the light. Surprising, yet not, we had a rather spacious attic. It wasn’t too awfully dirty, though the air was rather stale, and just needed some dusting and organizing. I glanced around to see if any animals had gotten in that I should be worded about, because there was a window on the far side but I didn’t even see a mouse.
Standing for a moment, I debated whether I should move things then clean or clean then move things. I decided on the prior because I figured moving things would cause a mess. So why not clean after the mess gets worse? So, I walked over to the window and opened the curtain fully to let more light in and opened the window to let fresh air in.
Dad and Mom :)
My name is Aiden… and I live on the edge of the forest.
I woke one morning toward the beginning of summer holiday, the one before my first year of college started. I had lost track of the days of the week, but knew if my mother, Virginia, and father, Wolf, showed up it’ would be my birthday. Seventeen now, eighteen then.
I rolled out of bed, yawning and got the hair out of my eyes as I made my way to the bathroom. I went to close the door after turning on the light, I winced… my tail had gotten stuck in the door. Brushing the fur a little bit I closed the door properly and made my way to the toilet. Did my business, then washed my hands. After that I kind-of tasted my spit, to see if I needed to brush my teeth. I was good for this morning.
Not that my breath would be bothering anyone, the parents were out of the house and I didn’t have a girl. I mean, if I wasn’t part wolf, a fury chap, I was positive I would have had a serious girlfriend by now. A lovely girl, a princess in my eyes! But, I can’t exactly date or even have casual sexy times with anyone with my nuisance of a tail around. Sure, my dad says I can chase and tease, but that was growing old. And lately, when I actually get to see him, we have long talks about my future “mate.” And that when I meet her we’ll be mates for life, and every other girl will become meaningless. I can sorta see what he means by that too, I hadn’t even found “the one” and yet all the girls at school were unappealing, obnoxious, and conceited.
With a sigh, I ran a comb through my hair and smirked at my reflection. I was almost the spitting image of my father. I was tall, slightly muscular, had rather dashing looks and a fantastic head of hair. Yet what was the point? Suddenly becoming frustrated I threw my comb back in the medicine cabinet, then turned and stalked out of the bathroom. At school the girls all fawned over me, yet I was forbidden to interact with them farther then a polite “hello,” not that I was truly interested in most of them anyways. As a whole they only liked me because my mother and father are famous. See, when my parents came back from the land of the nine kingdoms and my mom was still pregnant with me, she began to write the story of her adventures. Of finding her love, defeating the Evil Witch, and the wonderful Snow White. She wrote of the many generations of fairytale royalty (mostly about the grandson of Snow White), my Grandfather, Tony, and his heroics, and how she discovered that Grimm brothers had found their fairytales from that land. She wrote the truth of what had happened, but sold it in this world as fiction.