“Oh dear, whatever shall I do?”
she asked. No one answered her question. Either way, she didn't dare
ask another fairy for help. She hated being mocked and ridiculed by
her peers.
Because they would laugh.
Imagine, a fairy unable to do the
spell required of her.
The premonition she saw showed
her a young forlorn woman. One who would someday need her help in
meeting her prince.
It would require a spell that
turned animals into people to escort her to a ball.
Animals into people.
“Hmph, that's unheard of,”
she muttered. Her wings fluttered a mere blur as she stepped out of
the forest and into a clearing.
There stood a cottage and within
a fenced yard three pigs lay on large pillows. Their meals were being
served to them on gleaming plates.
“Prize pigs.” The Fairy
Godmother smiled. “I'm sure they'll make perfect practice.”
It hurt. As if someone had cut
away pieces of her body. Without her gnomes, her caretakers, her
guardians, she withered.
Dead and bleeding, mere ground
and dust.
They were of her, made of the
soil and life of the land.
Her soul went into them.
But they had been stolen from
her. Ripped from her womb and lured to the surface.
Now they ran in packs like savage
beasts, doing the bidding of the one who had cursed them.
Hunting and searching for a
prince to devour.
They would not stop until she,
Mother Earth, was tainted with his blood.
A melodic hum echoed through the
dark tunnels of the mines. Little hands gripped large unyielding
pickaxes and the rhythm of metal on stone joined the song.
“Deep in the darkness, the
jewels shine, vines of gold, oh, hi ho.”
“Oh, hi O-”
“She's here!” called a voice
and at once pickaxes were tossed aside. Feet pounded the
mountain terrain as they navigated their way to the bright entrance.
A sign hung outside the
mines, 'Dwarves at work.'
The woman kneeling, handing
out food to the littlest of people, didn't see them as Dwarves,
she saw them for what they truly were.
Children. Misbegotten and
enslaved.
And one day she would free them.
No matter the cost.
The
golden threads slithered in the black cauldron. They twinkled in the
light of the torch and might be considered beautiful by
some. Valuable for certain.
But
above all other things they were dangerous.
To
anyone who would dare to touch them and even worse for those the
threads tied themselves to.
Curses,
every last one of them.
Eternal
sleep.
Enslavement.
But
the curse most desired was missing from the withering mass.
The
one that would allow its owner to remain beautiful forever.
To
remain forever.
Immortality.
The
Twisting nether of the curse pushed inward crushing Briar within the
deep realms of sleep. This was it. This time the hold wouldn't ebb
and she would certainly die.
Never setting her gaze on her
family again.
She screamed and a rush of warmth
swept over her as a pinprick of light appeared in the vast abyss.
Briar struggled, reaching for the light.
Had her prince finally come for
her?
The curse tightened around her,
unwillingly to release its hold.
The speck of light brightened and
Briar's brushed the warm glow with the tips of her fingers. The light
swelled until it enveloped her whole body.
But still the curse lingered.
Briar awoke with a gasp, the
light faded leaving her in a room so dark she wasn't sure if she was
awake or still within the cursed realm.
Her chest rose and fell with soft
erratic breaths as Briar became aware of her surroundings. Her bed,
her room. But so old it was as if it had been abandoned.
How long had she been asleep?
A cloak covered her naked body,
worn but not eaten by time. Her Prince's? Where was he? Briar shifted
on the bed and forced herself upright. As she did the weight of the
curse bore down on her and stole the breath from her lungs.
What was happening? Had she not
been freed from her spell? Had not a prince given her a kiss of true
love to awaken her?
Her legs shook as she stood.
There was nothing and no one to
answer her questions.
No Prince to save her from a
curse that still clung to her like cobwebs.
It left her with only one
choice.
To save herself.
His fingers wove through his
hair, clenching at the thick black strands. A lithesome sound danced
at the edge of his hearing.
“Go away.” The guttural noise
of his own voice, no more than an animals growl, twisted in his ears. He
sank to the floor, the corners of the wall hugging him close on each
side.
“Master?”
Adaris flinched away.
“Please, Master. You must eat,”
Quartz said.
A granite hand touched
Adaris's and he slammed against the wall, jerking
his head upwards as his eyes flashed deep crimson.
Quartz, a crumbling man made of stone, starred at him with frozen, emotionless eyes. “What...what
is happening to you?”
“I...I don't know,” Adarius
whispered through clenched teeth.
The voice that danced at the edge
of his hearing swelled, echoing throughout the castle.
“A beast within, now without,
suffer for what you've done to me you dastardly Prince...”
Dead silence followed the words.
He thought they had been finished with the foul thing.
But he'd never be done of it.
“The Rose...”