He heard of it long ago, on a seemingly banal conversation. He didn't care, at first, but the words kept resonating on his mind until they became an obsession. He needed to find it, and fast.
He sold all he could to buy the materials for the journey. He bought a strong backpack, rations for weeks, a dagger, and sturdy clothes for a long walk, along with a bedroll. The rest he saved in case he needed to buy more on the way. He said goodbye to his friends, the few that he had left. He felt he wouldn't be missed.
He started in the break of spring, planning to reach the plains by summer. He underestimated the path, and reached them in the middle of winter. He thought the walk would be an adventure, a journey of self discovery and reflection, yet he only found pain and tiredness. He would've surrendered easily if it weren't for the words resonating on his mind. He needed to find it, and it would all be worth it.
His clothes weren't made for winter, and while the plains were beautiful when covered in snow, wading through them wasn't pleasant. His supplies were running low, and the only traveling merchant he found swindled him with very expensive food. He needed to find it soon. It should be easy, there was only one cave in the plains. Yet the snow hid a lot of things, and a cave would be one of them.
The nights were the worse part of it. It was cold, so cold, and sleeping on the snow wasn't an option. He managed by using all his clothes as a blanket, and by finding some trees that would protect him, at least for a time, from more snowfall. He always awoke shivering, but alive, and soldiered on by convincing himself it was close, so close.
When he found it he didn't feel happiness. He found out his feelings were empty, and all that was left was relief. He was shaking when he entered the cave, a small torch for light, hands on the walls. He walked a bit like this, barely seeing enough not to trip, until the torch reflected into something. That was it. It had to be.
And it was. The mirror was just there, like it was waiting for him. He could barely move, yet he managed to place himself in front of it. At first, he just saw himself, tired and battered as he was. Then, the image seemed to change. It was still him, yet not. Something on the lips, maybe the eyes, maybe the clothes were of a slightly different color. How?! Why?! It wasn't supposed to be this way! Why was it him?!
Despair give way to laughter. Soon, he just couldn't stop, and fell on the ground, still giggling. His eyes felt tired, his body was aching, his mind didn't work properly.
Another victim of the Curse of Knowledge.