The maker stopped and stepped back. “Yes, yes.” he mumbled. "Almost finished." It would be a grand wedding present for the Sultan’s daughter.
Her intended was a nobleman of great renown. Hunter, story teller, traveler, poet, accomplished minstrel, soldier even. No! A General.
Recipient of the Ever Peace Medallion for singlehandedly negotiating the cease-fire that ended the Great War. He even co-authored the treaty.
But alas! the princess did not swoon nor was she impressed by these accolades and immediately secluded herself in the tower when hearing of the Sultan’s desires for her marriage. She even went so far as to bar the door.
For long days and nights he pleaded with her thru extremely heavy and finely carved oak, only to find her implacable. She denied food, water, wine and only finally consented on one condition.
“And what’s that dearest?” asked the Sultan, fingertips anxiously touching.
“I want a magic mirror.” came the reply.
The Sultan relaxed. With a smile and a sigh he leaned against the wall, gesturing vaguely.
“My darling daughter, you know we have rooms full of them. Open the door and I shall give you whatsoever one your heart desires."
Rubbing his hands together, he shuffled excitedly back and forth on the landing.
"Do you want the one in which you see the future? How about the past?”
Thoughts of his most beloved possessions always had this effect.
“The Mirror of Ice, maybe? No. No." he shook his head.
"Ah!" he clapped in glee. "The one that detects Vampyres! Very useful...no? Hmmm. The Wishing Mirror. No, the Mirror of Thought! Yes! Or Fog’s Mirror! You’d like that."
He stopped and looked up slyly. "Perhaps you’d like to gaze into the Well of Avalon? Simply name it and it is yours.”
“The mirror I want you do not possess, father.”
“Impossible!” roared the Sultan “I have every magic mirror known! All that have ever been made!”
“Exactly.” she said.
* * *
Now the maker steps back again and wipes the sweat from his brow. He smiles. Soon.
* * *
The Sultan himself had brought this strange request on that early orange-grey morning. Before the city was up the mirror maker opened the gates and found his royal majesty sitting there astride a fancy white steed.
“You are the greatest Mirror-Turn in the land, are you not?” he’d said.
“Some say so, your highness.” the maker bowed humbly.
“I would commission your services, sir.”
“And what can I do for your majesty?”
The Sultan drew a rolled and sealed piece of parchment from his sleeve and tossed it over.
Breaking the seal, the maker unrolled it and his eyes grew suddenly large! Brow furrowing, he turned the parchment slightly.
“It is a wedding present for the princess and must be ready in three days.”
“Three days!?!” the maker exclaimed “That’s impossible!”
The Sultan grunted and reigned in his stepping horse.
