Curse Breaker [Sleeping Beauty Inspired - COMPLETED]

Chapter II

Ellyn was an educated sort, it was known that she could always be found with her nose stuck in a book, either in the palace gardens or in the grand library her mother before her had once utilised. Perhaps it was here where she learned of her family's history, or the secrets which were kept locked away from many centuries, though it's not entirely sure. What is known is that Ellyn became, like her ancestor before her, obsessed with the ideas surrounding religion, death and the mortal soul; her father's untimely death took its toll on her, and while she hoped to rule as fair and just as he once had, she was always increasingly aware of her own mortality and wished to secure her family's legacy through any means necessary.

The dark arts were a cursed magic and few in the land were dedicated enough, were corrupt enough to risk tainting their faiths, their magic, their souls to wield such power. The healer had vowed never to indulge in such practices, but that didn't mean that others weren't hell-bent on doing just that. The books expressed a similar sentiment, briefly noting that one known person who was devoted enough to the dark arts to grant the curse of immortality, to transform the individual into this beast of feared proportions, was known to live in what is only known as 'the Cold Lands.' Exactly what or where this place is is unknown, for its origins are lost to us, but it was the beginning of the end for Queen Ellyn and her reign over this unnamed kingdom, for it was her obsession with legacy, family and her line which became her undoing.

Many years passed as Queen Ellyn sent man after man, group after group out in search of this fabled individual, though some never returned. The legends say that they were killed by the Great Beasts which guard the lair where cursed magic lies, or that this powerful witch used the dark arts to ensure they would never return to their homes, for many were rural folk or came from simple beginnings; they had little knowledge of how to navigate the treacherous terrain they would've encountered on their journey.

During that time, the Queen married as befitted her class. You might wish to be told she was helplessly in love, but with age her heart only grew more distant, enclosed, encapsulated, and while her husband tried to win her affection, there was little he could do to allow her to open up, to confine in him about her fears, dreams, desires, for all hope of such things had died alongside her parents.

They had tried many times for children, to ensure the kingdom had its heirs, for she saw this as her duty; it had been all she had ever known, all those around her had instilled into her from a young age as had been common with many girls before her. Her importance and value as a monarch was not based on the laws or decisions she made out of the interest (or lack thereof) of the people, but rather whether she could birth new life into this world – preferably male – to carry the legacy of her forefathers. Though, if she were to be accessed by her care and attentive nature for her people, the healer who sought to protect and preserve her faith and community would be hard-pressed to agree with the other smallfolk, who seemed to see her as the idilic vision of purity and respectability. The healer, this woman who broke her bones to help others, saw her for her instability and restlessness, for she was growing older, her beauty fading and would soon be unable to provide the kingdom with the heirs it so secretly (and not-so-secretly) wished for; with every stillbirth and miscarriage, the thought of her overthrow for someone better, more suited for the role seemed more desirable for the ruling class, the many Houses which supported her claim.

That was, until one day, when news from the latest group of proclaimed heroes arrived back at the castle. Ellyn resided in the library, as she had taken to most days, for it brought her comfort and joy from days long lost to the hourglass of time, while her husband had taken the initiative to greet the wary travellers, with evidence of turmoil and devastation written upon their features, all the price they had to pay to ensure that the woman with hair as white as snow, skin as blue as frostbite and eyes as sharp as icicles, captured and shackled by her ankles and wrists. She appeared hostile, wearing a glare of aggression upon her features and attempting to lash out at her captors, though restricted by her chains. She caused Queen Ellyn's consort great discomfort and fear, though he tried his best to keep his nerve before his men, especially as their numbers were noticeable lower than when they had left some weeks prior. It wasn't until the Queen made her entrance, risen from her seclusion, that her husband found his courage and stood his ground, demanding of her men where they had found her and if they knew a name, though he refused to make eye contact with what he would have called savagery in human form.