“Claire, that’s not you! Not even close. These aren’t accurate reflections of any of you! What’s wrong with these things?”
Abner’s stern voice caught Steward off guard. “These Reflectors only give back what they see, Steward. There is nothing wrong with them. This is what we see in each other and, frankly, what we see in you. From the time we are young, these Reflectors show us who we are, and our lives are patterned accordingly. The beautiful, the graceful, and the strong live their lives in the Light District. The rest of us are simple servants who live on the edges of town and do our work quietly. It is our place, our lot in life, and we accept that.”
Edith, Troy, Trek, and Claire all nodded.
I need to be polite, but this is crazy. “So…your whole life is determined by the image you see in your Reflector? Why does it matter so?”
Edith began to clear dishes from the table. “It is all that matters, dear. Everyone has his or her place. It is how we maintain order. And for people like us…and you…our place is in the shadows of the world. We don’t stand out. We are not supposed to. If everyone plays his part, then we all get along.”
Steward picked up his Reflector again and took one last hard look at his image. He tossed the device across the room. “I will not accept that I look this way. And none of you should either. This is a lie, a deception. Don’t you see it?”
Abner rose from his chair. His large frame added import to his sharp tone. “Now look here, Steward, you are our guest. But if you are to stay with us, you must never talk like this again. This is the way of life in Marikonia. You may not like it or agree with it, but it is our destiny. And we must ask that you respect it. Do you understand?”
He didn’t, but this was not the time to argue. He needed to get away. To think and try to figure this all out. “Yes, of course. I apologize. I think I just need some rest. If you will excuse me, I will turn in for the night.”
They all said their polite goodnights, and Steward was glad to be alone to think through the affairs of the day. His heart was unsettled as he lay in bed, but his short night on the edge of the moor caught up to him, and he was soon fast asleep.
Steward spent several days with Abner and his family. He tried his hand at swinging the large hammers in the blacksmith shop, making Troy and Trek bellow with laughter. He worked in the kitchen with Edith and Claire, doing his best to pull his weight in this working-class family. The evening conversations around the great table in the dining room never returned to the Reflectors, but Steward noticed that, every once in a while, one of the kids would take a look at themselves in their own device. Each time, Steward could catch a glimpse of despair on their faces as they were again reminded of the disfigured reflection that stared back at them.
When he was alone, Steward studied his own Reflector. He looked it over from every angle.
I can’t explain this. It’s not right, I know it. But how do I…what do I…
As hard as he tried to find some way to explain the distortion, the same image was returned to him each time he looked at it. No bending or cleaning of the mirror helped, but Steward still refused to believe that the image in the smooth surface of his Reflector was a true representation of his face.
One afternoon, Steward accompanied Claire on a walk to pick berries for Edith’s cobbler.
“Careful, you two, and be back before supper,” Edith called out as they walked away, each swinging an empty bucket. Not far down the path they found an enormous stand of wild berries.
Claire laughed. “We’ll be here for hours. I’m glad we only brought two buckets.”
Steward began grabbing berries as fast as he could. “Let’s see who fills their bucket first. The winner gets an extra egg for dinner.”
Claire’s eyes lit up. “You’re on.”
Despite the competition, Steward couldn’t help but stop and stare at Claire when she was distracted with her picking. He was overwhelmed by her beauty. Just to look at her in the sunshine was a delight to his eyes.
“Ouch!” Steward drew his hand back from a berry. He’d been so distracted by Claire he grabbed right on to a bee.
“Quick, come with me.” Claire grabbed his good hand and ran with him down the path to a small pool of ice-cold water nestled in a rock-encircled basin. It was fed by a spring that trickled through the rocks on the far side.
“This comes right out of the mountain snows. Here, give me your hand.” Claire thrust his throbbing hand into the water and held it tightly.
The pain subsided as the frigid water began its numbing work. Steward kept his hand still in the water, and as he did, the ripples died down. Soon, the surface of the pool turned to glass-like calm. Steward looked down to check if the redness in his hand was fading— and then he saw it.
“Look, Claire! My face! Look at the reflection in the pool. That is me. That is how I look.” But before Claire could look, he moved his arm in his excitement, causing ripples to distort his image. Claire let go of his hand and stepped back. Her face showed her fear.
“No, wait, Claire! You must see this. Wait until the water calms again, and then you will see.”
She turned to leave. Steward pulled his hand from the water and ran to her, stopping her and turning her toward him.
“Claire, where are you going? You can’t leave. You must see my reflection in the pool— and yours!”
“No, I won’t. It’s not real. Don’t you understand? Only what we see in the Reflector is real.”
“No, Claire, it is just the opposite. What I just saw in the pool is me, really me. That’s what I look like. I don’t know what’s wrong with these Reflectors, but they are lying. C’mon, Claire, you have to look. Please, just see yourself as you really are.”
She was shaking, but she followed him back to the pool. Steward had a firm grasp on her shoulders and turned her toward the pool. At the edge, he saw that the surface had calmed and was once again like glass. He tugged Claire to the edge, turning her face toward the pool, and together they looked straight into the reflections that glistened from its mirror-like surface.
Claire stood motionless as she gazed at her image. She moved her hands to her face and ran her fingers across her cheeks, as if to verify that it was really her own face she was seeing. She ran her fingers back through her hair, mesmerized by the reflected image of a young woman she had never seen before.
Steward whispered to her. “Claire, you’re beautiful. Don’t you see it?”
She paused to take it in—then her face grew angry. “No, this cannot be! This is a bewitched pool to fool me like this.” She splashed her hand into the pool, and the reflection disappeared. “Why did you make me look into it? Why are you tormenting me this way? Father was right. You must never talk like this again. I am who I am and that will not change.”
She saw the truth. Why won’t she believe it?
“No, Claire. What you saw in the pool is really you.”
She turned to run, her hands motioning back in despair. “Stop it, Steward! Stop it at once! I am going home.”
She ran away, leaving Steward to follow after her in silence. They never spoke of the pool again, but Steward knew the truth. He would no longer trust the image he saw in his Reflector. And somehow he would find out what was causing everyone’s Reflectors to lie.
chapter
Thirteen
On the eighth day of Steward’s stay, Abner announced that he needed to see the Light District. “You did not come to Marikonia to sit around the Abner Blacksmith Shop.”
So they made plans to visit the center of town that afternoon.
It would be good to get away and see more of this strange land. Somewhere lay the secret behind the Reflectors, and the deception they reflected.
After a hearty lunch, Abner, Trek, Troy, and Steward set off for the main streets of Marikonia. The women did not go.
“Too much temptation,” Abner said with a smile.
Marikonia was a city of contrasts. Most of the outlying areas were inhabite
d with simple houses and shops. People moved about without much fuss, but as you got near the center of town, things changed.
There were lights everywhere as well as the sounds of horse carriages, music, and shouting. The Light District was electric. The energy was incredible. Everywhere groups of people looked around, trying to see someone famous or powerful. Steward watched as a person with a small entourage emerged from a large building. People ran screaming after him, asking for autographs and clamoring to get closer.
Steward looked to Abner. “Who are these people?”
He pointed to another group surrounded by gawkers. “These are the beautiful people of Marikonia. They have power and wealth, and most everyone wants to be like them or at least near them.”
Beautiful people? More beautiful than Claire? What do their Reflectors show?
“May I take a closer look?”
“Yes, surely. Go see for yourself.”
Trek stepped in front of him. “I’ll part the sea for you.” He had no trouble clearing a path through the crowd.
Steward followed him and finally worked his way to get close enough to see a woman from the little elite group walk right by him. He watched amid the screaming crowd and blinked. Looked again. Then shook his head.
The woman was…plain.
He and Trek found their way back to Abner, but Steward was even more confused than before. “I don’t think I understand. The woman I saw was nothing special. She was quite plain. Why is everyone so envious of her? She is certainly not as beautiful as Claire.”
Abner stopped him short. “Now, Steward, I told you we will have no such talk as that. Don’t be filling poor Claire’s mind with fanciful talk and lies like that. The woman you are speaking of is famous for her beauty. I know you saw it. And my dear Claire is…well…so very homely. So, please, don’t taunt her like this.”
“You should have been at the pool!” Steward wanted to scream, but he held himself back. Instead, he fell into step beside Abner, seeking to understand. “Do you think that the image we see in our Reflectors shows us who we are, Abner, or does our belief in who we are cause us to see what we do in our Reflectors?” He eyed the brawny blacksmith, hoping he hadn’t crossed a line.
Abner didn’t answer right away. Trek and Troy just looked at each other and shrugged. Abner paused, then spoke. “When I was young, I used to see a quite handsome young man in my Reflector. I believed I was destined to live in the Light District and go on to fame and fortune.”
Trek and Troy’s eyes grew wide. Troy leaned in. “Father, you’ve never told us this before.”
Abner returned a stern look. “And I never will again, do you understand? But young Steward here has the right to know the truth. Now sit and listen.”
They both locked their eyes on their father.
“I made several trips here and began to make friends. I fit in, I was indeed worthy of this place, and my future looked bright.”
Trek couldn’t contain himself. “Father, what happened?”
“One day I was on my way to visit the Light District when a man joined me in my walk. He began to ask me questions about where I was going, and when I told him he laughed at me and nearly shouted that I was not the kind of person who should be seen in the Light District. I pulled out my Reflector to show it to him, but when he held it and pointed it back at me, I was not nearly as confident and handsome-looking as I had thought I was. I stopped and looked into it again and again. The Reflector does not lie. I was devastated, but I decided to continue on. I came across a second person, a young woman who was walking the same way I was. When she saw me, she began to laugh. I asked her what she was laughing at, and she said it was…”
Steward was stunned. Were those tears welling up in the blacksmith’s eyes?
Abner tried to wipe them away without his sons noticing, but with little success. Trek and Troy sat motionless, as though not knowing what to do.
Abner regained his composure and continued. “She was laughing at me for thinking I was worthy of the Light District. She turned her Reflector toward me, and this time I was homelier than the last. In less than one hour, I had changed from attractive and strong to plain and broken. I might have given in to total despair if not for one of the Phaedra.”
Steward straightened. The Phaedra? What did they have to do with this?
Abner looked down. “He was passing by and saw the whole thing transpire. I was miserable, but the Phaedra sat next to me and told me how important it was that we affirm who we are according to what we see in our Reflector. It is not up to us to judge but to accept our image and live accordingly. ‘Not everyone can be a child of the king,’ he said to me. That is what they used to call everyone who lived in the Light District—children of the king. And I was certainly not one of them.”
Hearing the king mentioned gave Steward new hope.
“Why were they called children of the king?”
Abner looked at Steward. “There is a legend that the king once sent his own children here to populate this land. But after many generations they intermarried with commoners, and now there is a curse on the land. I…we are part of that curse.” Abner’s tone sharpened, and the words were barbed. “We are the people who dwell on the edge of town, forced to live out our lives according to the image that reflects how unworthy we are to be called children of the king.”
Unworthy? Says who? The Phaedra. Again.
“So you never saw your original image again?”
For a moment Steward feared his question angered Abner, but the blacksmith finally just shook his head. “No, because it was a lie. I was never meant to see myself that way. The image I see now is the real Abner. So, you see, Steward, we must never doubt the Reflector. If we do, we just set ourselves up for heartache. That’s why I am so protective of Claire. She has been taunted all her life, and her only hope is to accept who she is.”
But it wasn’t! It was all a lie. The reflections people saw were nothing more than the image they had already formed of themselves. Why couldn’t they see that?
Steward thought for a moment then met his friend’s eyes. “Would you mind if I asked you to go on ahead without me, Abner? I need to think things through on my own for a while.”
“Of course.”
As Abner and his sons walked away, Steward found a place where he could sit and watch the world fly by in the Light District—and turn things over in his head.
If he was right, it was each person’s own self-perception that caused the corresponding image to appear in the Reflector. So a person’s true image could be seen only if it was first believed, but it couldn’t be believed if the Reflector kept producing a distorted image.
It was a cycle of distortion meant to ensure that no one would ever see who they really were.
What about me? Am I seeing a distortion or the truth?
Could he even tell the difference any longer?
“Good evening, young Steward.”
He jumped. A Phaedra was sitting beside him.
Steward calmed himself. “Good evening, good Phaedra.”
“What do you think of Marikonia?”
Steward hesitated. His trust in the Phaedra had all but vanished. He needed help, wisdom…but he dare not trust another Phaedra.
Be wary. Find out what you can, but be on guard.
“I am confused, good Phaedra. What people see in their Reflector is not the same thing I see in them when I look at them with my own eyes. I see confident, attractive people, but in their Reflectors they see homeliness and lowliness. And when I see plain, insecure people, their Reflectors show them beauty and confidence. Why are the Reflectors’ images so different from reality?”
“What is reality, Steward? Perhaps the image you think you see in people is the illusion, and the Reflector is reality.”
“Perhaps.” But even as he said that, Steward doubted it.
The Phaedra looked at him. “And what about your own Reflector? What does it show you?”
“My ow
n Reflector? It is horrible. I can’t believe what I see.”
The sudden sound of a screaming crowd made Steward spin to look behind him. A group pressed in around a young man dressed in fine clothes as he strolled from a hotel to a waiting carriage. How plain he was! There was nothing special about him at all. Yet people almost climbed over each other to get near him, and he walked with an air of arrogance, dismissing most of the signature-seekers and barking orders at doormen and drivers.
Steward pointed. “That’s what I mean. That man is so plain, yet people see him as a star.”
The Phaedra looked at Steward. “Would you like to know what it is like to be one of them?”
“A citizen of the Light District? Me? How is that even possible?”
“Give me your Reflector.”
Steward fished the rectangular sheet of metal from its bag in his satchel and handed it to the Phaedra, who passed his hand over it then looked into it and smiled. He handed it to Steward.
“Tell me what you see.”
Steward raised the Reflector—and stared into it. The image was as much of a distortion as the disfigured face he’d seen when he first looked into the mirror—only this time the distortion was beautiful. Staring back at him was a more handsome face than Steward had ever seen, and again it looked just enough like Steward that it was easy to believe it was his face. It was as if there were a painted image over the face of the Reflector, and Steward’s own eyes and mouth appeared through the image, wearing it like a mask.
“What do you think?”
Steward looked at the Phaedra. “It’s…it’s amazing. I look incredible. How did…?” His question was interrupted by the sound of shrieks coming from a small group of people who had left the larger crowd. They came running to Steward.
“Who are you? You must be someone very famous. You’re gorgeous!” one girl gushed.
Another begged, “Oh please, tell us who you are. And can we have an autograph?”
The Phaedra smiled and, before Steward could ask him how this happened, was gone. Steward was caught up in a sea of humanity, and the focus had shifted to him. The other “star” had just reached his carriage when he seemed to notice his fans were being pulled away by this new discovery. He called Steward to come over, and Steward made his way to him through the throng.
The Four Gifts of the King Page 17
