The Most Beautiful: A Dark Mystery Tale of Beauty, Secrets, and a Forbidden Mirror

A Dark Mystery Tale of Beauty, Secrets, and a Hidden Mirror | Retold by TaleTreasury

The sun was nearing the end of its golden journey across the sky, casting long, haunting shadows over the woods. As twilight swallowed the horizon, night crept in, black and absolute, veiling the world in its shroud. In a lonely cottage nestled on the edge of a dense forest, a woman’s piercing screams echoed, but no one heard them—not the villagers, not any passing soul. Only the ancient trees and the creatures of the night bore silent witness to her pain.

Then, abruptly, the screams stopped, and the chilling quiet was broken by a new sound: the fragile, earnest cry of a newborn child. A soul had entered the world under the watch of stars and shadows.

“My son, my dear son,” the exhausted mother whispered, tears in her eyes, “you are the most beautiful of all.”

Years passed, and the boy grew strong and bright. But there was a mystery to his childhood: his mother rarely allowed him to leave their home. When she did, she warned him never to stray beyond the forest that bordered their cottage.

“You must stay close, my son,” she would say, her voice soft but firm. “You are the most beautiful child in the world, and if others see you, they will want to take you away from me. Then, I will lose you forever.”

The boy, innocent and trusting, listened without protest. He loved his mother deeply and did as he was told, content to play with the animals of the woods and explore the mossy trails within the boundaries she allowed. Yet as he grew older, his curiosity blossomed alongside his understanding, and the walls of his world seemed smaller and stranger.

One day, sitting by the hearth, the boy asked his mother, “Mother, why do you always cover your face with that ragged veil? I’ve never seen you without it.”

His mother hesitated, her hands trembling slightly before answering, “Because I am not beautiful like you, my dear. My face is not fit for your eyes. I am ashamed.”

“But I want to see you, Mother,” the boy insisted. “I must see the face of the one I love the most.”

Reluctantly, she peeled away the cloth that concealed her face. Her son stared, wide-eyed—not with disgust, but with surprise. She was not ugly, not by his eyes. She looked weary and pale, with features worn by time and sorrow, but there was kindness in her gaze.

“Mother, you are beautiful too! Why don’t they want to take you away?” the boy asked, genuinely confused.

“No, my son,” she replied with a sad smile. “I am not like you. My beauty is long gone.”

Time passed, and the boy’s mind continued to question the mysteries around him. One evening, as the wind howled outside, he noticed a strange object on the wall, hidden beneath a heavy cloth.

“Mother, what is that thing covered with cloth over there?” he asked, pointing with his small hand.

The mother glanced at the object and shuddered. She reached out and gently ran her fingers through his curls.

“That, my dear, is a magical object—one that must never be uncovered,” she said softly.

“Why, Mother? What does it do?” the boy pressed, curiosity burning in his eyes.

“It is a mirror, my son,” she whispered.

“A mirror?” the boy repeated, his voice filled with wonder. “What is a mirror?”

His mother sat in silence for a moment, her eyes shadowed by memories. Then she said, “A mirror shows you the truth of what you are.”

“But why must it stay covered?” the boy asked, enthralled.

“Because sometimes, my love, the truth is dangerous. Some truths should never be known.”

That night, as his mother slept, the boy lay awake, staring at the cloth-draped shape on the wall. The temptation stirred inside him, a deep longing to see his own reflection, to know the truth of his beauty, and understand why his mother feared the mirror.

He decided that he would uncover the mirror. And when he did… the truth he saw would change everything.

Moral of the Story

Some truths are hidden not out of cruelty, but out of protection. Yet, the desire to know oneself is a journey that each must undertake, even at the risk of discovering what was meant to stay concealed.