Fairy tales for young and old ~ English version

The Silent Keep

(Storytober - Day 30 - Curse)

 Long ago, nestled in the misty hills, stood the grand castle known as the Silent Keep. Its walls were tall and proud, its towers brushed the clouds, and its halls had once rung with the laughter and music of its court. But now, a thick and dreadful silence hung over the castle, for a curse had fallen upon it, and not a voice nor a sound could be heard within its stone confines. The curse had taken the voices of every man, woman, and child who dwelt there, rendering them mute and trapping them in a world where even the softest whisper could not be made.

Far from the keep, in a small cottage by the woods, lived a princess named Coralee. Her mother, the Queen, had sent her away as a child when the curse first struck, hoping to save her daughter from the same fate. Coralee had grown up far from her ancestral home, unaware of the silent tragedy that had befallen it, for the Queen's letters had long ceased to arrive. Yet, Coralee had a gift, a voice like no other—her songs could brighten the darkest night and soothe even the most restless of hearts.

One morning, as she sang in the woods, a blackbird flew down from the canopy, landing softly on her outstretched hand. Its feathers were dark as midnight, but its eyes shone like polished silver. It gazed at her intently and began to sing a tune, but when it opened its beak, no sound escaped. It was then that Coralee realized the bird carried a letter fastened to its leg, sealed with a familiar mark—a crescent moon surrounded by stars, the crest of the Silent Keep.

Coralee opened the letter with trembling hands. The ink had faded, but the words still spoke clearly of a terrible enchantment cast upon the castle and its people. The Queen begged for her daughter to return and break the spell, for only a voice touched by magic could shatter the silence. Knowing in her heart that she must go, Coralee set out at once, her voice the only weapon she carried.

The path to the keep was twisted and forlorn, overgrown with brambles and forgotten by time. At last, she reached the towering gates, which creaked open as if in silent welcome. Within, she found the castle's halls deserted, the once-glorious tapestries now dull and tattered. She wandered through the great ballroom, where dancers moved soundlessly, their mouths open as if caught mid-song. They turned their sorrowful eyes to Coralee, and she could see their lips moving, but not a breath could be heard.

Coralee made her way to the heart of the castle, where the throne room stood dark and empty, save for a single figure shrouded in shadow. It was the Queen, sitting upon her throne, pale as the moon and as silent as the rest. She reached out to her daughter with a trembling hand, her lips forming the word, please.

Coralee knelt beside her mother, a resolve growing within her. "I will set you free," she whispered, "I promise." Then she began to sing.

Her voice rose, pure and clear, like the first light of dawn breaking over a still sea. The melody swirled through the chamber, filling the silent air with life. But as Coralee sang, a chilling wind blew through the throne room, and a voice, deep and cruel, echoed from the shadows.

"Your voice may be fair, princess," the voice sneered, "but it is not enough to break my curse. Only a sacrifice freely given can undo what I have wrought."

The princess faltered, her song wavering. "Who are you?" she cried out, though no answer came.

From the darkness emerged a figure cloaked in black, its eyes glinting like the moon upon dark waters. It was the sorcerer who had cast the curse in his wicked jealousy, for once, he had sought the Queen's favor and been denied. In his bitterness, he had taken from her the one thing she had cherished above all else: the sound of her people's voices.

"What must I give?" Coralee asked, her voice steady despite the fear creeping into her heart.

"Your voice," the sorcerer replied, a sly grin curling his lips. "For only in the loss of what is most precious to you can the spell be broken."

Coralee's heart tightened, for her voice was the very essence of who she was. Yet, she looked upon her mother's pale face, the dancers who moved in soundless sorrow, and the people who had long been trapped in silence. She knew what she must do.

Without another word, she sang a final note, letting her voice rise higher and brighter than it ever had before. As the last sound left her lips, the air around her shimmered and the sorcerer's wicked laughter faded into nothingness.

The stillness that had gripped the castle broke all at once, and the voices of the people flooded back like a river unleashed. Laughter, cries, and songs filled the air as the Queen embraced her daughter, tears streaming down her cheeks.

But when Coralee opened her mouth to speak, no sound came out. Her voice was gone, given to lift the curse from the Silent Keep. She gazed at her mother, who looked upon her with love and sorrow, and in that moment, a single tear fell from Coralee's eye and landed upon the stone floor.

Where the tear touched the ground, a miracle occurred: a tiny flower bloomed, and as it unfurled its delicate petals, it sang with a voice as sweet and clear as Coralee's had been. The princess could no longer speak or sing as she once did, but now, whenever she tended the garden that sprang up from that one small flower, the blooms would sing in her place, their songs filling the air with joy.

And so, the Silent Keep was silent no longer, for even though Coralee's voice was lost, her sacrifice gave the castle its music back. The people of the keep sang in gratitude for her bravery, and the princess became known throughout the land not just as the one who broke the curse, but as the keeper of the garden that sang.