Opalin dabbed at her eyes as she wove her tale, but she didn’t stop, and I could tell that she wanted me to hear the entirety of it before commenting, so I sat stiffly. Listening. Processing.
The parents were overjoyed at their third daughter’s arrival, and while the magic that had thundered through the chambers at the time of her birth had seemed frightening, their little girl appeared whole and healthy, and they began to believe their concerns had been for naught.
But not long after her birth, strange events began to occur.
The queen, the infant’s mother, began to experience lapses in her memory. She would be in one chamber, speaking with the servants or doling out instructions to the guards, and then she would find herself in another room entirely, with her tiny daughter in her arms that she had no recollection of ever picking up.
And as the months passed and the infant grew, others began to experience things that were similar. Blackouts. Strange actions nobody could explain. Objects being moved from one location to another.
Rumors began flowing through the palace. Whispers of a curse carried down the halls. Scared fae, who believed they werebeing controlled by another, grew too frightened to enter the palace’s doors.
And as the royal daughter grew and began to toddle on two legs, the level of frightening events dramatically increased. The young princess would often grow angry and demanding, as all children of that age were, but instead of her nannies scolding her or distracting her, they would turn into dazed puppets, walking around and doing whatever the toddler commanded.
The royal’s two older daughters began to be affected too. The child’s adult sisters, who for the most part ignored her or had little interest in the young princess, would oftentimes find themselves locked in closets or unconscious in chambers they had no memory of ever entering.
The sisters grew fearful and did everything they could to avoid the youngest princess, and when the toddler began to realize fae distanced themselves from her, she grew hurt, then angry, and the whispers resumed that it wasshewho was punishing those around her even though children at her age were not supposed to have power since magic normally only manifested at maturing age.
And one day, when the oldest sister refused to play with the baby princess, a burning pot of liquid was carried by phantom hands from the kitchen and poured on the eldest daughter’s arm.
The act solidified that it was the tiny princess enacting such magic.
Worst of all, nobody could stop the acts from occurring. So when the eldest daughter was being scalded, none of the servants and nannies had been able to move, as though they too were being controlled by another.
The eldest had screamed in pain, helpless to watch as her skin bubbled up and melted away, and it was only because of the palace’s most skilled healer that she hadn’t lost her arm. But shedid develop horrific scars since the wounds went too deep to heal completely.
After that tragic event, many refused to go near the child. Fear bled through the palace, and the whispers increased.
“She’s dangerous.”
“Cursed by the stars.”
“Too powerful.”
“It’s as though she’s from another realm.”
The servants and guards gave the baby princess a wide berth. Because no normal fae child was born with power, only those who were said to be kissed by the gods could wield magic before their maturing summers. But the whispers grew, stating it wasn’t godly power that infused the child but instead, magic from the underworld.
The princess’s parents desperately tried to calm the rising tide of fear among their staff, and they tried to contain their child’s power to the palace walls, but even the royals were unable to keep the child’s abilities a secret.
Word began to spread of the child’s horrific magic to capital residents and those beyond the city’s border, and answers were demanded. Rulers of the ten Houses wanted an explanation from their king and queen. They wanted to know what was being done to protect the fae of Mistvale Kingdom if a member of the royal household had been born with magic that could harm and control them at a toddler’s whim.
The king and queen tried everything they could think of to help their daughter grow while not allowing her magic to hurt others. They placed magic-suppressing cuffs on her tiny wrists, but those proved useless. The child’s magic could blast right through them.
They hired child instructors who were specifically trained in how to deal with unruly children. But those tutors merely turned into catatonic puppets themselves, their skills obsolete.
They sought fae with the most powerful Shields of the land to care for their daughter, but the princess could shred right through those powerful Shields.
Distraught, the king and queen were at a loss of what to do. Terror began to grow in their kingdom, and Mistvale fae were turning against them. Whispers of the cursed child being born of the underworld and unleashed upon their land filtered into every household and street in their great city, and talk of a rebellion against the royals took root.
Knowing there was little they could do to stop their daughter’s tantrums and nothing they could do to curb her power, the king and queen made the heart-wrenching decision to send her away.
They commanded that she live in exile so she couldn’t hurt anyone in the capital, and given her distance from others, the terrifying events within the palace ceased.
“But then the assassination attempts began.” Opalin’s voice turned wooden and distant, as though the memories she was reliving still haunted her to this day. “Twice, they almost succeeded.”
The king and queen weren’t able to determine who had sent assassins to kill their youngest daughter, but it soon became apparent that the fear within their kingdom ran too deep. The whispers and rumors had spread too far.
The fae of Mistvale Kingdom on the Silten continent would not stop until the monstrosity that had been born on that fateful night was dead.
