sleeping beauty - revisited

CHAPTER SEVEN

For a moment, Artemis didn't feel brave enough to get closer.

She didn't know why, but something paralyzed her. Maybe it was fear - the fear of facing her, of being face to face to the Princess who would never wake up. She couldn't see the Aurora's face from down there - the chamber was big as a saloon and her bed was on the other end - but she could imagine how she looked in her sleep; she had seen the portrait.

It wasn't like she was strong enough either. Her shoulder was still in agonizing pain and, when she tried to take a step forward, it hit her so hard it made her legs fail. She had to hold on the rock walls. For a moment, everything seemed to spin. Her shoulder felt like burning so much it made the girl feel weak and sick. She wondered if those thorns could be poisoned - or cursed, like the spinning wheel.

She let herself fall on the first steps of the stairway, breathing disorderly, unable to stand anymore. Her armor had been severely damaged by the heath, so she just let it fall from her body - it wouldn't protect her from anything else from now on, anyhow. The impact her shoulder had against the floor made it hurt so much she felt like she would never get up again.

Her eyes were almost shutting. She realized it had been such a long time since she had kept them closed for, but she forced them open. The rain was falling out there, and inside the tower it all seemed like another world - an asleep world, disconnected from the outside. The ruins of that tower felt as lonely as Artemis did, but she felt protected in there.

Well, not entirely lonely, she thought, glancing at Aurora's bed.

Prince Philip threw his sword away, letting a grunt escape from his lips. He had missed that sword so much that, when he found it under the shadow of that slope, he imagined he wouldn't ever want it remotely away from him again. But his anger was louder.

His knights were shocked. Even Larry, who knew him better, thought it was weird to seem the smiling Prince like that. Philip looked like he had lost all hope - and in fact, he had. Anyone who was there could see the crushing disappointment taking over his face when he realized the Princess wasn't nowhere in that castle. He looked everywhere, but it was pointless. So many days travelling to get there, to found nothing but a portrait.

Is this the burden of those who dare to dream?, he thought, sitting in front of the palace's entrance, not sure how to face his knights now. Everything seemed to fall apart and, as rare as it was, the Prince didn't find a reason to smile this time.

Until he heard a weak voice speak from behind him.

"Are you sad, lone dreamer?"

He turned around, and the vision frightened him. The face he was looking at had wrinkles all over, but there was something dark about it. Not exactly dark, but... sick.

"Who are you?", the Prince asked, stepping back.

"I'm the hope you've been waiting for", the old woman said. "Now pay attention to what I have to say, for I don't have much time left."

No one was there to see it, but, later, while the Fairy watched the Prince leave, she couldn't help but smile. That girl had tested her anger, but the Fairy knew exactly where she was - and she knew very well she'd pay to what she had done. Nobody saw it when the Fairy's smile turned into a wicked laugh, echoing between the forest woods, and nobody saw it when she laughed so much she choked in her own laugh, and the poison of her laughter turned into her last breath.

Artemis did her best to keep her eyes open.

Unable to move her left arm, she had tried her best to wipe some of the blood from her hands. The heath had left her with cuts in a lot of places, and there was blood everywhere. She didn't quite know what to do about her shoulder yet; she was usually strong enough to not feel sick about blood, but the wound seemed so deep she didn't even want to look at it.