The princess that never existed

THE PRINCESS THAT NEVER EXISTED

EDUARDO MACEDO

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To the people I call my friends, without whom this book would have been completed one week earlier.

THE PRINCESS

This story begins with the princess and the people behind her...

Once upon a time, there was a princess who never existed. The legends say that she lived in the room of the highest Tower of the Kingdom; no one ever looked at her, ever. Since she was born the eyes of the rest of the people never stopped on hers.

It was the king himself who kept the existence of the princess a secret from the day she was born. He never let anyone know about her. It wasn't that he didn't love her, on the contrary, he loved her deeply. So in the shadows, he kept her existence veiled due to the pain that raged like a storm in his heart. The girl, in every feature, carried the echo of his deceased wife, taken by her cruel fate during the birth of the heiress. Thus, she became a living canvas of the past, a constant reminder of that lost love of his.

The kingdom, meanwhile, was caught in the jaws of war, facing off against a neighboring kingdom that had, in some mysterious way, taken a sinister interest in the queen's pregnancy.

As her birth approached, the enemy invaded the borders, and the king feared that the princess would become the prey of his ambitions. Thus, in secret, he himself took the newborn to a hidden refuge, to the lair of a witch, whose magic was prodigious. She resided in the highest tower of the kingdom, taller still than the majestic stone towers of the royal palace, yet her life was as lonely as the echo in the abyss, for few knew of her existence, and even less remembered her name.

When the king arrived with his request, the witch, at first, refused with unwavering firmness. But the monarch displayed a temptation that eclipsed her resistance: he offered four magic mirrors; treasures hidden in his palace. They were not simple ones, because their beauty dazzled, adorned with golden filigrees and arabesques, but even more, they contained in their reflection prodigious wonders, magical gifts and many hidden secrets.

Thus, the witch opened her heart to the young princess, accepting the sacred duty of protecting her. Although the art of nurturing and education was not her expertise, she raised the princess with deep love. Together, they wove the warp of the most precious moments of her childhood, where the first words sprouted like whispers of stars, the first steps rose like fulfilled dreams, and the first years of her life blossomed in a garden of shared secrets.

As the years passed, the princess flourished in the tower, at the top of the world, in the sweet company of the solitary witch. In the

stillness and isolation, the girl did not find solitude, but a hug in the silent whisper of the wind.

The witch, despite her first denial, had woven a bond, a singular union. Loving like a mother, her heart beat for the princess, as if the child was her own creation, her blood, her song.

The tower was filled with laughter and knowledge, a corner where learning was intertwined with the melody of the wind. The princess, with her curious heart, became a passionate student of magical mysteries, a flame that burned with the fire of her royal lineage.

The secrets of spells and potions slowly revealed themselves to her, while in complicity with the witch, she danced in the art of the supernatural. Her magic was still in her first steps, but her creativity as a new moon, and her love of magical mystery blossomed with each dawn.

Meanwhile, the king continued to lead his kingdom, a leader in the relentless dance of warlike challenges. Even as his mind swam with concern for his daughter's well-being, the weight of battle forged a helm away. However, in the embrace of the night, his love for the princess persisted, motionless as a star in the firmament. With each of her breaths, she kept the flame of hope alive, longing for the day when her hearts could finally embrace.

But the incessant weight of war, with its sharp claws, little by it at his health and sanity, a wavering in the abyss. The only light in his darkness was the memory of his daughter, the beacon that guided him in the veil of each dawn. Yet with each day that he wove his web, the shadows of imbalance entwined in his soul.

In the councils of the wise men, the king sometimes evoked his daughter in encrypted whispers; mysteries that hung in the air like

leaves in the wind. In his dreams, the name of the princess emerged in a heartbreaking lament, an echo of deep suffering. The strange acts of him, an incomprehensible puzzle, puzzled the loyal servants of the palace. Although the news of the princess's death along with her mother was known, the king's agonizing anguish persisted as an unresolved enigma.

THE WITCH

They say that witches don't chase, they attract...

As the years passed, the tower was filled with laughter, deep conversations, and shared moments. The princess found in the witch not only a mentor, but also a surrogate mother and a faithful friend. The witch, in turn, was overjoyed to see the princess grow up into an exceptional young woman.

The princess liked to see the witch cast her spells, sometimes she even tried to guess what the strange words that came out of her mouth while she was casting a spell meant.

Also the princess began to become very curious, and inundated the witch with questions. Sometimes the witch would get desperate and stop responding, but the princess's best memories were of her with the witch, when she gave answers to her questions.

One day, while observing the starry sky from the tower, the princess asked the witch,

“What are the stars really?” While she smiled and stared at the firmament.

-The stars, my dear princess, are the flashes of the dreams that the universe has decided to share with us.

-Dreams? How can they be dreams? - The princess answered intrigued.

-Look at those twinkling lights in the dark mantle of the sky. Each one of them is like a longing, a desire or a hope that has risen from the depths of souls. They are the desires of creatures, the whispers of hearts and the promises of the cosmos. - Said the witch as she gestured towards the starry sky.

- And why are they so far? - Asked the princess.

-They are far away, my sweet girl, because sometimes dreams require distance to shine more intensely. The stars remind us that even if something seems unattainable, we can always aspire to reach it with determination and hope in our hearts. - She answered while she looked at the stars again and sighed.

-So, the stars are like beacons of our own desires?

-Exactly.- The witch agreed with her head. - The stars guide our dreams in the dark night and inspire us to reach the unattainable. They are a reminder that even in the darkest of times, the light of hope always shines deep within us. And so, little one, every time you look at the stars, you will never feel alone, because they will always be there to remind you that your dreams are like little jewels in the vast universe of possibilities.-

The days passed like leaves in the wind, until one dawn the witch summoned the princess, her voice an enigmatic melody. The news reached the witch’s ears; the King had succumbed to the

Frigid Woe, an evil that wove his grim fate, as it crystallized his network of nerves.

The witch, with a serene look, told the princess that she had to travel to cure him. However, confidence in her bravery grew, like a lily in spring, for the princess was already big enough to take care of her own essence during those days of her absence.

The last thing she did when she left was to give her a starshaped necklace, so that she would remember that afternoon together at the window, and that she was never alone. That necklace had been given to her by the king when he arrived with the princess, but he asked her to give it to her once she was 11 years old.

The star was the symbol of the kingdom and the royal family.

THE RAVEN

Raise crows and they will...

As days flowed by, the princess remained ensconced within the tower's embrace, though her hours were predominantly spent in this solitary place. The tower, unremarkable, neither ugly nor soiled, stood tall, yet an overwhelming sense of loneliness cast a somber pall.

With no soul to converse with, her days and nights stretched on, in this quiet realm of solitude, where she felt all alone. Her solace became the graceful birds that soared the sky, with each passing, she would offer them a heartfelt "hi." and a waving hand. But alas, in return, they never echoed her greeting's sound, their silence left her heartache, in the solitude profound.

One day, she extended sustenance with a hopeful plea, yet those blue ravens showed indifference, a world apart from glee.

One fateful day, a young raven burst into the tower in a manner both unexpected and tumultuous. Its arrival was marked by an air

of scandal, as it entered in a whirlwind of feathers, like a harbinger of some mystical revelation.

This raven was unlike any other, for it was bereft of sight, its once sharp eyes now clouded in darkness. It bore the weight of hunger and pain in its every movement. The princess, with a countenance as serene as a moonlit lake, regarded the creature with a mix of calmness and profound curiosity.

The poor bird's bluish plumage, once a tapestry of beauty, now lay in disarray, a testament to the hardships it had endured. It struggled to stand, its frail form trembling. In that moment, the princess, touched by compassion, resolved to become the guardian of this wounded soul, vowing to mend its broken wings and offer it solace in her solitary tower.

As weeks unfurled their silent wings, the absence of word or sign from the witch cast a feeling of abandonment upon the princess. It was as if the tapestry of mentorship had been woven, only to unravel into threads of uncertainty, leaving her to navigate the labyrinthine tower's depths alone.

In tandem, she began to channel her magical wisdom to mend the wounded raven, nurturing it with her spells until its afflictions faded like shadows at dawn. In this shared journey of healing, they found a profound companionship that painted their days with colors again.

The young raven, touched by the tenderness of her care, harbored gratitude in its obsidian heart, while the princess reveled in the solace of a newfound friendship. Conversations flowed like whispers of wind, laughter echoed through the tower's chambers, and their bond deepened with each passing day.

But, there was one thing the raven couldn't comprehend; the significance of the star-shaped necklace adorning the princess's neck. To him, it was but a glimmering piece of metal, devoid of the hidden treasure it held. Little did he know, it was perhaps the most exquisite necklace in the entire world, yet its true worth remained beyond the scope of his gaze.

Anyway, they had a great time together. And one day they had a conversation just like the one the princes had with the witch some moons ago.

-Do you ever think, my dear raven, that my friend will return? -Said the princess while gazing at the raven with a mix of hope and uncertainty.

-I don’t know anything about your friend, but she seems like a creature of enigma, and her ways are known only to her. But within the tapestry of magic, threads of destiny often weave unexpected patterns. - Answered the raven, cocking its head, and with its ebony eyes reflecting a distant wisdom.

-I miss her guidance and her presence, you know. Her wisdom was like a beacon in the night. - Said the princess, nodding a hint of longing in her voice.

-Your longing is not lost on me. Yet, even in her absence, we've forged our own path, one that holds its own kind of magic.Replied the raven, unfurling its wings with a soft rustle.

-You're right, my friend. Our journey together has been a gift, and I cherish every moment of it.

-As do I, as do I. - Said the raven, nuzzling the star-shaped necklace affectionately.

In the vast tapestry of existence, there is one universal truth; That nothing endures eternally.

And so, the hands of time turned once more, ushering in a moment of bittersweet parting. The raven, longing for the open skies and the kinship of its feathered brethren, felt the call of the wind, beckoning it to take flight once more.

As the raven prepared to leave, the princess harbored a silent yearning, a desire to soar beyond the confines of her tower, to dance with the clouds, and to touch the horizon. Yet, in her heart, she knew that such dreams could only find life in the canvas of her imagination.

But before saying goodbye, she asked to the raven

-Dear friend, I know you have to go, but before you leave, I want to ask you something: Why you ravens never come down to be friends with humans?-

And the bluish bird said:

-Humans are despicable and evil. They hurt us, they kill us, nothing good can come from one of those.-

Kind of offended, the princess said:

-But I’m not evil, even though I’m a human-

In an instant, the raven was seized by a paralyzing terror. His blue feathers ruffled, and his raucous caw echoed through the chamber as he launched himself into a frenzied flight. He careened from one wall to another, his frantic wings brushing against the unforgiving stone. Desperate for escape, he sought refuge in the very window that had offered him salvation days prior.

As the raven disappeared beyond the window's frame, the princess was left in solitude once more, the echoes of his departure reverberating through the tower's empty chambers.

THE MIRRORS

When you look in the mirror, do you look at yourself or for yourself?

The princess made a solemn vow to herself, a promise etched in her heart's deepest recesses. She decided that she would never let the shadow of loneliness cloak her again, not even in the wake of the witch's departure and the raven's absence.

And so, seeking shelter in the warmth of a human gaze, the princess surrounded herself with four mirrors to project her own image, to feel the company of someone forever. What she didn’t know, is that those mirrors were the ones that her father gave the witch long time ago; those with magical powers and mystical abilities.

For days on end, the princess remained immobile, an ethereal figure standing in silent vigil before the mirrors. Time flowed like a frozen river, its current stilled, as she gazed into the reflecting abyss, unmoving and unchanging. 17

Suddenly, one day, those mirrors, perhaps tired of always projecting the same image, turned around on themselves and when they turned around again, the reflection of the princess disappeared forever, and with it, the princess herself too.

Leaving the emptiness of the coldest room in the world. And now a diffuse reflection of someone who did not exist now, inhabited the world of our fantasy; leaving in the real world four inert and senseless objects.

THE RETURN

The princes became an elusive wisp lost in time and memory. Meanwhile, the kingdom mourned the loss of their king to the Frigid Woe, and even the formidable witch succumbed to the unforgiving grip of the illness. In the fragile tapestry of their realm, a glaring flaw came to light — their overwhelming dependence on their leaders.

With no guiding hand to lead them, the people wandered aimlessly, like lost souls adrift in the abyss. Uncertainty hung heavy in the air, and the once-thriving kingdom began to crumble into an unclaimed void. Trust waned, and the void of leadership left them paralyzed.

Perhaps, they thought, if only they could reclaim their king or find a rightful heir to the crown. But all they possessed was a distant legend, a faint whisper of a lost princess adorned with a

This story ends with the princess and the people behind her...

star-shaped collar, a beacon of hope in the shadowed corners of their despair.

But the truth is that the princess did return.

Inside the mirrors, there’s the place where time is stopped, raindrops hang motionless in the air, clock pendulums freeze at some point in their journey, dogs raise their muzzles in silence, and pedestrians freeze on the dusty streets as if supported by the heavens.

When a traveler approaches from any direction; they move slower and slower, their heartbeat slows, their breathing numbs, their temperature drops, their thoughts fades, until they reach the center and stop.

But those travelers who go to where time is stopped do not stay there forever and little by little they move away and return to normal time, to the pass of the the years, to the pass of glaciers, and so did the princess.

In the heart of a moonlit night, the mirrors summoned the princess back, a seamless transition through the veil of time. Astonishingly, everything appeared just as it had been on the day of her departure, untouched by the countless years that had slipped through her fingers like grains of sand. Time's secrets remained shrouded, its passage unfathomable.

Yet, when she cast her gaze upon the mirror's reflection, horror gripped her like a vice. There, staring back at her, was a ghastly visage; a pale, skeletal figure with long, disheveled ebony tresses and eyes burdened by the weight of time itself. She struggled to place this appearance with her own identity, but the star-shaped collar around her neck, the only constant companion through her journey, confirmed the undeniable truth.

It became apparent that when one returned from the place where time is stopped, they bore the physical mantle of the years that should have passed, an embodiment of the temporal dance left behind in their absence.

Desperation welled within the princess as she sought to escape the confines of her tower prison. Her frantic attempts to open the weathered door proved futile. Amongst the few changes that time had wrought upon the tower, the handle of the door had transformed into a silent sentinel, refusing to yield.

With a voice filled with anguish, she cried out for help, yet the words that escaped her lips were an incomprehensible jumble of sounds. Time's grasp, it seemed, had not only altered her physical form but had stolen the very essence of her voice, leaving her trapped and voiceless in the chamber of mirrors.

Fortunately or not, her anguished cries pierced the stillness and found an audience in the form of a wandering soul. This man, a stranger to the old tower, had been drawn by tales shared among the townsfolk. There, before him, stood the tallest tower in the kingdom, though now it bore the weight of neglect and time's relentless march. Nature had begun to reclaim its stones, weaving green tendrils between the cracks.

As he ascended the path to the tower's entrance, their fates converged in an unexpected encounter. Startled, they locked eyes, his and those twin orbs of obsidian that belonged to the princess. An eerie silence hung between them, an abyss of uncertainty, as neither knew how to proceed.

Then, the princess, the first to break the spell, attempted to introduce herself and plead for help. Yet, once more, her voiceless lamentations spilled forth, devoid of meaning or clarity. In that

moment, a shiver of primal dread coursed through the man's veins, for he could feel the weight of fright much deeper than he had ever imagined.

A pale, skeletal lady, with that immense hair, and the biggest eye bags he had ever seen. Talking from the tower. It was impossible. It was wrong.

The man's terror was so consuming that all he could do was flee from the forsaken tower. He raced to the heart of the town, urgently summoning the villagers with a cry that trembled with dread.

As the townspeople gathered around him in the town square, he could contain his fear no longer, and his voice rang out in a frenzied proclamation.

-I saw her, a lady in the tower! In the tower! She's a specter, all skeletal and pallid, whiter than freshly fallen snow, her hair, dark and endless, it seemed to stretch beyond the very tower itself. Her eyes, black as the abyss, gazed out from beneath otherworldly eye bags, as if she hailed from realms unknown.His words echoed through the square, and as more and more people arrived, they too lent their ears to the tale; faces painted with a mixture of fascination and fear, captivated by the haunting account of the lady in the tower

In due course, the town's priest stepped into the unfolding discourse. Perhaps he was not the most beloved figure among the townsfolk, but his position demanded reverence, and there was no other in the community to match his authority.

With a solemn voice, he implored the gathering crowd to arm themselves with whatever they could find; guns, swords, torches, and pitchforks. A collective unease settled over the assembly, but

their collective curiosity and concern drove them to action. They were resolved to unveil the mysteries shrouding the enigmatic lady in the tower.

The townspeople ventured towards the tower, their unease growing with each step. As they approached, the sight that met their eyes was enough to freeze their blood in their veins; the princess, her visage skeletal and her dark hair cascading like a spectral waterfall, gazed at them through the window. But what struck the deepest chord of terror within them was the haunting repetition of those incomprehensible sounds that tumbled from her lips.

In that dreadful moment, a collective understanding dawned upon them, born from the depths of their primal fears. They could conceive no other explanation. To their eyes, she was not a princess but some unearthly entity, a beast or demon, ensnared within the confines of the forsaken tower.

They say trials are only fun depending on the place you are sitting, in this case the princess was the accused, without even the right to a defense or to speak for herself.

And a fateful decision took root among the assembled townsfolk, driven by fear and uncertainty, as they prepared to confront the unfathomable horror that had taken residence within the ancient stone walls.

Unfortunately, for everybody. The princess was denied any opportunity to speak, to convey her truth or comprehend the dire judgment that had been cast upon her.

Undaunted and resolute, the townspeople moved forward with their grim plan. Fuelled by their newfound conviction, they resolved to set ablaze her flowing hairs, for in their eyes, this

would consume not only her, but also the sinister presence they believed her to be.

If only they had known that she held within her the potential to be their last hope, a harbinger of peace and unity for the beleaguered kingdom. If only they had realized that she was not a demon, but merely a solitary soul, a listener to their stories and a keeper of their secrets for all those lonely years. The beacon of hope they had sought for so long, but now they had unwittingly carved their own path toward a tragic destiny.

In the midst of the chaos, a group of ravens had congregated, their bluish forms silhouetted against the fiery backdrop. Among them, the now old blind raven, driven by curiosity, inquired about the unfolding spectacle.

With somber caws, the other ravens conveyed the grim truth— they spoke of a throng of people gathered beneath the towering edifice, engaged in the ghastly act of setting ablaze the hair of a lady with flowing locks and a star-shaped necklace.

In that moment of recognition, the blind raven's heart sank, for he knew her well. She was the kind soul who had tended to his wounds, nurturing him back to health long time ago. He implored his avian companions to take flight with him, to intervene, to do anything in their power to save her.

But alas, their efforts were in vain, for by the time they reached the tower, the flames had already consumed the life within, leaving only a legacy of sorrow and a kingdom forever fractured and the necklace between the ashes.

The ravens approached the remnants of the princess. With solemn reverence, they gathered the ashes, lifting them high into the sky. Soaring to the greatest heights, they scattered the ashes

across the expanse of the kingdom, a poignant tribute that ensured the princess would never be alone again.

Yet, when the ravens touched the ashes, they were forever stained, a mark of mourning for the loss they had witnessed. Thus, in memory of the princess, all ravens chose to wear the darkness of their grief, their feathers shrouded in perpetual mourning. However, as they carried the ashes away, they inadvertently carried the necklace with them. It tumbled from their grasp, falling before the gathered people. In that pivotal moment, a chilling realization swept through the crowd—the star necklace, the emblem of the royal family, lay at their feet, and they comprehended the gravity of their actions. Their hearts sank, for they had unwittingly sealed their own fate, and the kingdom would forever bear the weight of their hasty judgment.

“Where did you go princess?” The people wondered, “Did you really existed? Or were we the ones who didn't see you with open eyes?”, “If everything started again, we would have loved you, we would have accepted you. Because only now that you're gone, we understand who you were and who we had by our side…”

And ever since, the highest room in the kingdom lies cold, inhabited by the same 4 inherent objects that no longer project any image.

And perhaps to alleviate the guilt, perhaps to feel accompanied, or perhaps it is a reality, as timid whispers it is said that if you go up to that room and stop in front of the mirrors for hours, for days, just like her. Just for a second you will seem to still see the reflection of the princess. As if nothing had happened, for a second, for an instant. The funny thing will be to think that it is no longer the princess who is in front of the mirrors to look at herself, but you.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

LUIS EDUARDO MACEDO CORTÉS

“I could tell my life by joining coincidences”

Once upon a time, there was a princess that never existed…

This doesn’t makes any sense right? There’s only one way to discover