Once upon a time, no one lived happily ever after.
I changed it all.
A
long, long time ago things were much more complicated. The king—my
father—was often away, warring and acquiring other lands. The kingdom
grew great under his reign, especially after he secured the most
beautiful woman in the world as his bride—she came with a huge dowry and
political alliances. Despite the fact that he was often away and she
displayed her affections elsewhere while he was, five children
eventually decorated their halls. Ryszard, the eldest, heir to the
throne. He was, I think, the most noble of us all. Kylan came next, made
in the image of the king and of course, the king’s favorite. I was the
middle child, darker of complexion and shortest of stature among all my
siblings. My mother kept me close by her side; it was no secret that I
was her favorite. Then came Kaja and Eleanora, the golden princesses,
born less than a year apart, and inseparable.
When
I turned thirteen, Mother fell ill with a terrible sickness. I was the
only one to stay by her side. My other siblings were hurried away, but
because the question of my paternity was palpable, she was able to keep
me close. The king was beside himself, not with grief at her passing,
but grief at losing so beautiful a treasure. I watched from the corner,
silent as they hurled insults at each other. Then, with one last and
shuddering breath, she cursed him—cursed him that he might never have a
woman less beautiful than she willingly come to his bed. He laughed at
her then, but I felt a chill down my arms, and I knew that she had used
the last of the magic that was keeping her alive. She died and I could
do nothing; could not even go to her while he was still in the room.
My
siblings and I mourned, but the king tried to arrange for a new bride.
No woman, from grand courtier to lowly scullery maid, would accept his
offers. Where once he flirted and cavorted with half the kingdom, now he
faced only silence. As the years passed, he rode away on several
campaigns but always came back empty-handed. I spent my days watching
from the shadows, chills crept across my shoulders whenever he came near
me. Mother’s curse hung off of him like a frozen cloak, and must have
driven him slowly mad.
One day, he finally looked
at his children, really truly looked at us. I was terrified that he
would see in my diminutive stature and black hair the mark of an
imposter, but his eyes skimmed over me and fell on Eleanora, who had
barely celebrated her thirteenth birthday, and was already more radiant
than the rest of us put together. Gold flecked her russet hair, her skin
clear and unblemished, face still round with youth. Being so young and
naïve, she mistook his affection for fatherly.
He
announced their engagement the next day. His councilors were appalled,
but he insisted that even though she was a bit young, he would still
give his permission for her to marry. Ryszard stood up to him,
threatened the mad king with civil war. Without even a second thought,
he slit my brother’s throat there, in the throne room, in front of all
the courtiers. The audible intake of breath almost undid me. I remember
sinking to my knees as Ryszard’s blood seeped into my skirts, and I
wished with all my might that I had the power to change his fate. But I
was not the practiced sorceress that Mother had been; my studies had
ended before she died. The throne room wavered in front of my eyes, and I
felt as though I were drowning as the cruel king raised his sword and
declared he would do the same to any who dared to stand in his way. The
sheer terror on Eleanora’s face tore at my already aching heart.
That
night I began my research into the arcane; I pored over books in the
library and read away my anxiety in ancient manuscripts with theories
about other worlds and portals between them. I found spells that I had
no idea existed, but I had not the power, nor the stomach to perform
most of them.
Kaja came to me in the library early
the next morning, sobbing, unable to explain the horrors that had
happened to her in the night. The only words she managed to get out were
that she had traded beds with Eleanora to keep her safe. I curled my
body protectively around my brave sister, stroked her chestnut curls,
and cried with her till I felt like a dried husk. We fell asleep in the
library that night, and when I awoke, Kaja still lay on my lap, but the
book I had been looking at was turned to a different page; a page with a
simple spell to gain the ability of ten sorcerers. It warned that the
price was steep; but one little soul in exchange for the ability to keep
my sisters safe seemed completely reasonable. I was not exactly using
mine, and I was willing to forefeit. Kaja helped with the blood
ritual—her magic was not as strong as mine, though, or maybe her will to
live had been sapped by the atrocities she’d just experienced. Her
blood flowed over the lines we’d drawn, and when the marks were filled,
it indeed opened the portal to a mighty power. Kaja died quietly. I
watched her go, and in that last moment, I envied her the easy release.
But when I turned around, I gave of myself to horrors beyond for all the
magic I wield.
The next day dawned bright and
clear, too cheery for the ominous night that had just drawn to a close. I
sank down into the circle, my sister’s blood dried on the wood floors,
my body exhausted but my mind and magic sharp. I left Kaja’s body where
it was, and after a long while I stood. I knew full well what I had just
done, and what the consequences would be. But I had to do it anyway.
I
was not the first to reach the mad king in the throne room. The
ceremony to make Kylan the heir had already begun—how many days had I
been missing—and as soon as the coronet rested on his temples, he
declared that his father was not a fit husband for his sister. Before
the mad king could object, Kylan ran him through. I shivered
uncontrollably, and felt Mother’s curse take to my brother instead. He
turned to Eleanora and declared that she would marry him. He reached for
her hand, and the despair in her sea green eyes was enough that all the
anger and hatred I’d felt since Mother’s death welled up inside me. I
screamed with rage, and the entire court turned to me. Magic flowed
through my veins, burned over my skin and spewed into every corner,
stuck in every crevice. It was hard to control so much raw emotion and
new magic, and the court stood frozen with the spell. Because my
siblings shared Mother’s blood, they were not affected.
A
blue shimmering portal opened behind my sister; I barely realized that I
was doing it. Her eyes scared me, for in them I saw the reflection of
what I had been and what I had become. I had to get her away, had to
protect her from what I’d become. Tears streamed down her face as she
backed away and fell into the portal. She screamed and reached for
Kylan—not for me, her savior, but for another who had doomed her. It was
only then that I realized the price I had paid was too high, but I
could do nothing to stop it.
Kylan cried out and
leaped after her, but I caught him by the foot and trapped him between
worlds. He whispers to me still, cries out in the night, begs me to
release him, but there is nothing within me that feels any sympathy
anymore.
Don’t you see? Everything I have done, I
did because I wanted others to be happy. This world was rife with hate
and war before I came along. I changed the course for the better. I am
the godmother of this world. No one can destroy me. I am the queen of
destiny. I won’t let you or anyone else stand in my way.
Even if you do look just like Eleanora.
