by Jon Jacks
She held at bay and discarded all those flaws that end up ruining most people in some way: those thoughts that we have been unfairly or unjustly treated, as if we ourselves bear no responsibility for the way people think of us or regard us.
She literally shone, however, with the very purest of thoughts.
Her heart sparkled, as if it were the finest, most perfect jewel anyone could possibly imagine. It was a light that, when it fell upon anyone nearby, also made them feel at peace with the world.
Handsome princes from every kingdom wanted to capture her heart. She didn’t wish to hurt any of them, of course; but it was naturally obvious to all that there was only one prince that she truly loved.
Their marriage was arranged. It would, of course, be the most splendid ceremony ever seen.
A fairy-tale wedding.
Unfortunately, this wasn’t a fairy tale.
The prince was briefly called away to war; a war that, he assured her, would soon be over, soon be won.
He died on the battlefield.
Bravely; but he still died.
And when the princess heard, her heart naturally broke in two.
*
The heart that had been so pure now had the most serious of flaws.
It was badly cracked, such that no one – not the finest physicians, the most accomplished healers, even truly devious wizards – dared claim they would be able to help the ailing princess.
Anyone deemed capable of offering advice was asked for their opinion on what might be done.
Jewellers renowned for their intricate craftsmanship studied the problem with interest, only to eventually pronounce themselves unable to offer a solution.
The makers of delicate glassware were asked if they could use their skills to weld the two halves together once more, yet shook their heads sadly.
The problem was, they stated, that the broken surface of each half of her heart would have be carefully melted with an incredibly hot knife, so that the molten sheen would act as it’s own glue. (For any glue, of course, would form a flaw in its own right.) Yet then you would have to work so foolishly quickly, before the molten covering hardened again, that no one could possibly have time to ensure the two halves were perfectly placed together.
How could it be possibly repaired, they wondered, without the flaw still remaining?
How could her heart possibly remain pure, when such a flaw would cause an unwanted refraction, as the flaw in glass or gems misdirects the many colours of light, resulting in a most unpleasant interference?
Why, even the very purest thought emanating from deep within her heart might well come out into the world warped and twisted into emotions and deeds unrecognisable from the original intent.
Goodness could be malformed into envy.
Concern into hate.
Love into anger.
Who would take such a risk with the princess’s heart?
Who would like to be held responsible for such a deep change in her character?
The answer was: the witch who had originally provided the frozen fountain droplets for the queen.
*
This witch possessed a most remarkable object.
As you can probably guess, it was a magic object.
But what magic!
For this was the famous Ring of Truth.
If anyone wearing the ring lied, the ring would instantly burst into flames – burning off the finger of the liar!
(Don’t worry: no one ever lied while they were wearing it.)
The witch carefully placed this ring – which was very, very slender – into the crack running through the princess’s heart. Then, ever so tenderly, she made sure the two pieces of heart were perfectly matched up.
Of course, she warned the queen, if the princess ever lies once the repair is complete, then the ring will burst into flames, shattering her heart once more.
Naturally, this was hardly a problem, as the princess never lied.
‘Hah, but to make the repair, she obviously needs to lie just the once,’ the witch pointed out, ‘for it is the heat of the ring that will weld the two halves together.’
‘Then your plan is flawed, fool!’ the queen stormed. ‘For she couldn’t lie to save her soul.’
*
Although despairing of the queen’s unwarranted anger, the witch took the princess aside.
‘Do you know how babies are formed?’ the witch quietly asked the princess.
‘Of course not.’
The princess blushed at the rudeness of such a question.
Yet the ring flared, and the broken heart was at last sealed and mended.
*
Had the princes really lied?
Of course she had: otherwise, the Ring of Truth would not have burst into flame.
For the princess firmly believed that a child could only be conceived through the purity of heart, the purity of love that one has for another.
Yet to admit she knew this, she also believed, would destroy the purity of her heart.
And she herself had realised that the only true way to mend her broken heart was to bring a piece of her lost prince back into the world.
Not to have him back wholly, perhaps; but at least to have him partially back in spirit.
To have, in other words, his child.
A child who would be half him, half her.
And naturally, two halves make a whole, do they not?
Between the two halves of the heart, as the ring’s abrupt burst of intolerable heat crashed against the intense cold of a pure heart so cruelly broken, the forging of the magic of truth and the magic of the birth waters, there was a mingling of every conceivable emotion, every sense known to man and woman: and a child was brought into existence.
The child was a girl; everyone could see that. For she grew within the clearly pure transparency of the princess’s heart.
How though, everybody wondered, everybody feared, would the princess be able to give birth to this remarkable child?
In could only end in yet more heartbreak.
And, of course, it did.
The princess’s heart ever so briefly cracked once more – this time with unhallowed joy – as her beautiful daughter came into the world.
(Even though it is not really the child who enters the world, but rather the world who enters the child.)
And do you know what that wonderful child had for a heart?
It had the Ring of Truth, of course.
And where there is truth in a wonderful story, or even just truth within someone’s heart, there is also always Hope.
*
Chapter 27
‘I don’t ever remember you telling me that story,’ Mima admitted sadly. ‘Though I wish I did.’
‘Of course you wish you remember; for we keep our loved ones alive in our hearts, in our thoughts – and that is enough for us on this side of the divide.’
‘It can never be enough for us, though.’
‘It can only ever be a False Dream to believe that we can ever return to you. You end up wasting your own lives, living with such False Hopes, or wishing hurt on those you believe responsible.’
‘But there is so much we could have done together. I miss that; not having the brother whom was once mine.’
‘But do you think I would wish that you miss out on so much of your life, searching for something you can never attain?’
‘You sent me searching for Cressia.’
‘To spare you from being tricked into ending up here before your time. Do you know how Cressia enables her creations to come to life, how she twists False Dreams into something truly wonderful?’
Mima shook her head: no, she hadn’t worked that out yet.
‘Forgive her, then; and find out.’
*
Chapter 28
The robin eyed Mima curiously from his perch on her shoulder.
She glanced about her, saw a patiently waiting Detritus, a warmly smiling Ceris
sa.
‘I’m sorry, so sorry; I didn’t realise I’d be so long!’ she blurted out.
Detritus rewarded her with a bewildered grin.
‘But the robin has only just landed on your shoulder, Mima!’
‘Has he?’
Mima glanced towards the tame robin. She ginned too, now, seeing how wonderfully alive the little bird seemed.
As she held up a hand, the robin gently hopped onto a finger.
‘I realise, Cerissa,’ she said, ‘that you weren’t responsible for Aestus’s death. If I could, I’d forgive you; yet as you weren’t responsible, I can only ask your forgiveness for thinking you were!’
And as she said this, she felt a great burden lift from her heart, as if it had always contained a hidden flaw, a lie that stopped it from ever healing perfectly.
Now there was warmth there in its place; a melding warmth, that felt true and real.
The vast pile of leaves was stirring, rustling vigorously, every leaf twisting.
Twigs amongst the pile stirred too.
These became legs.
The leaves became magnificently plush breasts, or wings, already spreading.
The eyes glistened as if made of purest Hope
The birds rose into the sky, the beating of so many wings all at once as thunderous as any coming storm that will cleanse and refresh the earth.
They swooped off low over the roof of the crude house.
They rose ever higher, fluttering as a great unstoppable mass through the trail of swarming leaves, moving swifter than the wind-blown leaves could ever hope to attain. Migrating into the world.
(Even though it isn’t really hope that enters the world, but rather hope that enters each child.)
‘We have to be true to ourselves to forgive; and all things that are true – even dreams – give us hope,’ Cerissa said, watching with pleasure and joy the departing birds, the abrupt emptying of her garden of the leaves of False Dreams.
‘Although on my part,’ she added, looking Mima’s way once more, ‘there is nothing to forgive you for.’
She glanced towards Detritus. It was more than just a heart that needed repairing when it came to the old soldier.
‘You know,’ she said to him, ‘I could give you an arm, even an eye: yet I think you would only see such things as fakes – not what you truly need.’
A dove flew onto Detritus’s shoulder. It locked its own beady, curious eyes on his one good eye.
Behind that strange stare, he recognised a long remembered look; one that saw him only as the handsome man he had been before he had set off for war.
‘Myron? Is…is that you?’
He looked about him, incredibly happy yet also ashamedly apologetic.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said, ‘so sorry: I didn’t realise I’d be so long talking to Myr…’
He saw that Mia was grinning.
For, at last, she realised how life had truly been given to her robin.
End
If you enjoyed reading this book, you might also enjoy (or you may know someone else who might enjoy) these other books by Jon Jacks.
The Caught – The Rules – Chapter One – The Changes – Sleeping Ugly
The Barking Detective Agency – The Healing – The Lost Fairy Tale
A Horse for a Kingdom – Charity – The Most Beautiful Things (Now includes The Last Train)
The Dream Swallowers – Nyx; Granddaughter of the Night – Jonah and the Alligator
Glastonbury Sirens – Dr Jekyll’s Maid – The 500-Year Circus – The Desire: Class of 666
P – The Endless Game – DoriaN A – Wyrd Girl – The Wicker Slippers
Heartache High (Vol I) – Heartache High: The Primer (Vol II) – Heartache High: The Wakening (Vol III)
Miss Terry Charm, Merry Kris Mouse & The Silver Egg – The Last Angel – Eve of the Serpent
Seecrets – The Cull – Dragonsapien – The Boy in White Linen – Porcelain Princess – Freaking Freak
Died Blondes – Queen of all the Knowing World – The Truth About Fairies – Lowlife
Coming Soon
God of the 4th Sun
