helenvalentina

Haunted Mansion (Photo credit: pinchof)

There once was a powerful magician who had traversed deep within the darkest regions of power and persuasion. He was so suffused in his magic that even his surroundings bent to his will and his desire, and so the architecture of his home was peculiar and supernatural, as per his whim.

This magician loved a girl who would not succumb to his will and would not be lured by magic. He could not entice her with magical allurements because her heart was already freely and truly given to another. So the magician instead looked to capture the girl in his home – which unlike her would follow his desires- and therein leave her a captive, forever searching for an escape he would ensure would eternally elude her. For the magician had created a home of contradictions and anomalies. He made every aspect something other than what it was, drawing her into deeper confusion and deeper captivity with every hour she traversed its rooms and hallways.

In this house, most walls were not walls, but doors. And most doors were not doors, but walls. At any given time some may be exactly what they appeared, and then suddenly could change serendipitously, to further entrap the poor, lost captive. She would cry and plead with her distant captor to help her, let her out, show her the way! For surely some walls would be doors to lead her out, some doors would prove true and the way to the exit!

She would sometimes discover the walls that were actually doors and then step through into other rooms, again to be lost.  For all the walls that were doors led her further into a house that seemed to stretch and change around her, and expand to make every attempt to leave but a further transition within.

The doors she tried were either invariably walls, or again took her further in to the home. Somewhere in the centre she could never find, the magician watched her attempts and coveted his possession. If he could not keep her heart he would keep her confused instead.

One day it came to his attention that the boy she loved, and who truly loved the girl, had discovered his house and his abduction, and was planning to come to rescue the girl. The magician spied the boy in the forest nearby the house.  He saw the boy survey its aspects to ascertain the best way to enter unseen and find his love. So the magician went to the boy in the forest and killed him, rather than lure him in to be similarly lost. If the girl loved him, then captivity was too good for him, and indeed, the magician would not have her with any company but his own ever watching eye.

But the magician – a man of great supernatural knowledge – had forgotten a fundamental law of life and death. For in killing the boy he had created a ghost, and a ghost tied to his love and his mission. And supernatural houses, no matter how clever and strange, will not confuse those of their kind, will not confuse a ghost. So the boy as a ghost was now able, through his ephemeral form, to enter the house and divine the way through the myriad trickster walls and doors to find his love. This ghost would not be fooled by the chimera of magic. He could see, in much the same way as the magician, the total architecture of the house, and therefore knew which walls were doors that led out, and which doors as walls to avoid.

And so in killing the boy the magician lost his precious captive and the girl was freed. Hand in hand with a ghost, who sadly would soon have to depart to the after life, she now had brief moments of happiness and love as they fled through the forest, never to be found by the magician again. So the magician crawled within his glorious, strange house and brooded over centuries, perpetually alone and lost in his own greed, violence and pride.

(c) Helen Valentina 2013, All Rights Reserved

For mindlovemisery’s prompt, Fairytale – see her work at http://mindlovemisery.wordpress.com

For those who are long time readers of this blog you may recognise this as a story I wrote in poetry form very early in this blog’s life. As I said then it is a fairy tale that came to me in a dream, complete and perfect, as though watching a movie of the story. When seeing the prompt I felt it was so fitting, so I decided to re-visit the dream in prose form this time. 🙂