Curse Breaker [Sleeping Beauty Inspired - COMPLETED]

Chapter I

"If you value your life, the lives of those you love, those you despise and those you have yet to know, you will not wake the sleeping princess."

The tale of the sleeping princess, a beauty resting in eternal slumber, is one well-known and retold many a time in recent years; some say she is the daughter of a wealthy, yet arrogant king who made insult to a wicked fairy, who sought to rain chaos upon his kingdom. Others say she is an orphan, her parents killed by a witch for unknown reasons. Why she succumb to this eternal sleep is difficult to say, the stories differ in their interpretation of the events which followed: some say the princess fell into her deep sleep in a nest of thorns, while others say magic ensured a fortress of needles grew around her, impenetrable and unmoving. In almost all versions of this great tale, a handsome prince arrives to save the damsel, granting her with a kiss and wedding her, living happily ever after. That's how the story usually goes, doesn't it?

The truth becomes less idealistic, less black-and-white, less archetypal of the standard fairytale we have all come to know; you might never imagine the evil witch to be the true heroine of this tale, or the prince to be a fool who thought himself the bravest of souls to navigate the treacherous path to save the legendary maiden. You might never think the curse to be a blessing in disguise, all to protect the inhabitants of this world from the darkness which lay to rest within the wall of thorns, hidden in plain sight in the more impoverished areas of a great metropolis.

We begin in a vast and diverse land, it's name long-lost to history, in a time defined by feudalism and heraldry customs. Many Lords and Houses ruled over the various regions, imposing the Capital's rules and laws upon the citizens; a great family, grand and magnificent with a rich history rooted in war, conquest, strong allegiances and (when necessary) bloodshed of immense proportions, ruled with the love of their people for many centuries, though when necessary they exhibited their control over the populace with an iron fist: House Ashdown, known for the legend of the ash-tree which grew upon the spot where they founded their Capital, kept safe and hidden within the confines of their large, oppressing walls; their sigil depicts this very tree, and had become synonymous with the life and prosperity of the kingdom under the leadership of these great Kings.

One of the last known rulers of this unnamed kingdom was King Tybalt Ashdown, who was beloved by his people and hailed as 'Tybalt the Tremendous,' though those who were forced to take sanctuary within the woods out of fear of persecution whispered his name 'Tybalt the Torturous.'

There was once a woman who followed the old religion, rooted in nature; she was known in her community as a healer of ailments, respected and well-sought after for her skills. She, among many others who believed in the old ways, were forced to use the sanctuary of the forests for her practises, to escape persecution and avoid assimilation into the religion enforced within the larger cities. House Ashdown, in her eyes, were tyrants – cruel, unjust, undeserving of their kingship.

Those within the towns and cities actively hunted and punished those who consorted with her kind, but the woods were said to be a cursed place where brave men do not enter; the tales and legends surrounding the collection of trees travelled through the kingdom, with whispers of ambushes and attacks from thieves, monsters, cannibals and highwaymen, but for the magical beings pushed to the brink of extinction this was a blessing in disguise: the more the average citizen feared the forests, the safer her kind were for being discovered. As much as she hated to admit it, and feared that in doing so she would incite a panic amongst her community, if the King's men found there was nothing to fear, that there was a group of her kind hiding beneath their noses, that there was a way to weed them out, to drive them into the light, none of them would stand a chance. They'd all be dead within a day, and that was being generous.