Prologue

1.3K 66 43
                                    

Our story for tonight is as strange as a door that leads to different places and carpets coming to life. It's rather peculiar, as it is not a story about a damsel in distress, waiting for her prince to save her when she was fully capable of saving herself. Nor is it about a huntsman who found his fair princess not so lost in the woods.

And it's most definitely not about the good and the light in this world. Nor is it about the bad.

Our story is a story about sailors, witchcraft and swords, yet don't think it's a fairytale - a story about faint light defeating green shadows and mischief outsmarting harm. Here love doesn't conquer all, because it never did win or conquer at all. Here the fire of anger and/or determination is one's greatest comfort. Here only hope can guide you, and only trust can save you.

One may think it sounds so dark... But it's only because others have lied to you about the horrors in the world - about the monsters and where they truly reside - about the difference between saving oneself and falling into dark abyss if there is any.

This story is only plain truth. It is what really happened and what no one told you about in fear it would leave you sleepless.

However, it is still a story. Therefore, we shall start as one does a story...

●●●

July, 1792 CE

Once upon a time, evil, pain and sorcery sat on a throne. Nay, they did not share it, for they never shared power. One might think that they would possess a person, slowly corrupting them when in reality... They were possessed by the body, they represented. The pale body of Queen Regent Vanessa of Denmark, also known as the Aunt Queen, the Fake Queen and the Temporary Queen. As you might have guessed from her many titles, something was odd about that woman - something wicked.

The servants heard it in her vain voice as it took an abnormal pitch when it yelled at them. The commanders saw it in her bored dark eyes during meetings; they were not the signature determined eyes of her family and ancestors. They knew there was something eerier than just their stormy grey. Some never denied they admired that darkness.

The commoners felt it in the gloomy air that surrounded the palace, as extra gaurds were added for the safety of those inside, and in the agony, as more taxes were added upon them. Neither could one not acknowledge the cruelty lingering around her commanders. Everyone, from the youngest to the eldest, knew it - from the smartest to the dumbest - from the loudest to the mutest.

Everyone knew it.

Unfortunately, that did not stop their silence.

Most of them did that out of fear. Some of them did that, because they thought whatever little money, they had, could suffice them a lifetime and refused to show kindness to others by acknowledging the injustice.

However, none of that mattered - not the cruelty, not the taxes, not the impracticality of the answers, coming out of her perfectly and extravagantly painted mouth, to their problems. Because the most important person could not see it. The rightful king - the prince could not see her cruelty. It was almost as if he was blinded by her sugar-laced words. Almost as if he was looking at the sun, and naturally he could not keep his eyes open, therefore kept them shut. Only over time, the raven haired man somehow managed to conclude that the sun did not exist, because he simply could not open his eyes to see it when in reality, he only needed to feel its warmth to know it exists.

SirenWhere stories live. Discover now