Spite picked up the pillow that the Wishing Well had thrown at her and holding the mirror in the other hand, started flitting and flying down the trail. "It isn't every day one gets a mirror - let alone a pillow from a Well," thought Spite as she struggled to carry her new possessions while trying not to fly into a tree as she flitted down the trail. |
Spite found a perfect spot to land and started to grab a small meal out of the berries that surrounded her when she noticed the mirror starting to glow. Setting the berries aside, she picked up the mirror and peered into it. With the glow her appearance was fuzzy and distorted like a carnival mirror she once saw through a portal into the Outie's world. As she continued to look, she started to feel a laugh in her tummy which passed her lips until it burst forth as a chuckle. The chuckle flew on the winds to spread out to the trees and beyond. Shortly, she heard a slight chuckle come back to her ears. So she laughed a little harder and again heard her chuckle flying out and return, just like an echo. |
"Oh Mirror of the Well, is this my name? Please do tell." (After all, one must be polite in talking to magical mirrors in the magical rhyme.) As the echoed laughter finally quieted she heard a voice that said, "Why are you talking so funny? You must be spending too much time at the Wishing Well. To answer your question though, this echo is a part of who you are. Laughter is your power. You can see how it spreads out to return to you three times fold. But it isn't your name. Look deeper into the mirror little Spite. Look deeper into your soul." |