Alongside the water’s edge, the lone maid dwelled, watching as frogs impudently resided on their desired lily pads. Suddenly storm clouds rolled into her eyes, but moments before the tears of despair rained down her fair cheeks. How would she ever overcome the great loss she’d endured?

“Take heed, child.” A mellifluous voice beseeched of the morose mortal, who in response averted her saddened gaze to the area that surrounded her, in hopes to seek the addresser, and soon beheld an anonymous figure cloaked in crimson. “Waste not your hope upon this pond, for none of these frogs shall ever portray an essential part in the play of your life.” They expressed before offering an outstretched hand to the damsel, who consented by taking it, and soon lead her in a completely different direction.

Beyond the thicket, set a meadow that was home to a series of mirrors, hanging on the thin walls of air. Confusion painted the young woman’s face while striving to figure out why she was brought there, but also possessed a shred of curiousity pertaining to the mirrors’ presence. Hesitantly she stood before them and beheld different reflections staring back at her. Amazing she saw herself dressed in a breast plate, and armed with a sword, where in another her autumn hair had turned raven which complimented her souless swarthy eyes. After carefully studying each outcome from every looking glass; she turned to her guide in wonder, in hopes to be enlightened as to what had just occurred.

“Do not fear what you see, for the mirrors are only showing who you really are, sadly you’ve shut the door on many that could help you overcome all you’ve endured. You needn’t wait for a hero, for you are your own, and are strong enough to save yourself. The sooner you revisit and embrace all the beautiful things you are, the easier it will be to prevail.” The figure explained before slowly removing the hood to reveal their identity, and to the woman’s surprise she was staring at another form of herself, an extremely vital part she’d been searching….her soul.

The sound of an alarm clock, returned the young woman to a familiar room, where the morning sun shined in through the window, and she found herself nestled under covers. Slowly she rose out of her bed with a revived feeling of inner peace and strength, knowing the pain of her loss would never end, but could turn the page to a new chapter in the life script that she’d already written.