Happily Ever After: Fractured Fairy Tale Anthology

by Dana Piazzi

  Aldaina led the way, and the journey was long. At the end of the day, she stopped them. “Just beyond the thicket lies my kingdom. The circle of trees is where you will need to stand.

  The king grabbed her misshapen face. “I will release you when our transformation is complete.” He leaned in close, and she could smell the rot of his breath. “If the magic fails, we will hang you from your precious tree after you have kissed each one of us to grant us a wish.”

  She shuddered at the thought but agreed. They tied her to a tree at the edge of the thicket, blindfolding her and strapping her head to the tree so that she could not move any part of her body. The king tightened the ropes. “We go in alone, lest you call down every creature in the woods on us.”

  When the trolls assembled in the middle of the trees, they took a deep breath and waited. The air was thick with the sweet smell of the crimson blooms. Slowly, with each breath, the trolls began to change. Eyes widened as men of great strength and beauty replaced the gnarled faces of the trolls. Then with one great burst of noise, roots shot up from every direction, attaching to each troll who stood there, becoming a man. Screams carried on the wind, and the queen breathed a sigh of relief. She began to call out in the ancient fairy language that only the oldest and wisest fairies would know. She would be mistaken for a troll and perhaps killed when found, so she continued to yell for help in her ancient tongue.

  A rider upon a valiant steed galloped up the path. He dismounted quickly and began to untie her hands from behind the tree. He spoke in the ancient language and asked how it was that a troll knows the language of fairies.

  Aldaina continued to speak in the ancient language. “I am the queen of the fairies and was turning into a troll from being in their captivity for so long.”

  The man took the blindfold off and stepped behind the tree to untie her hands. She asked, “How is it that a human knows the ancient language in which I speak?”

  He released her hands and stepped into sight. “Because you taught me.”

  Aldaina glared at him and then turned to walk away, not wanting her heart to break again.

  Cohen caught her by the arm. “I am here because I could not forget the love we shared. You haunt my every dream.”

  She snatched her arm away and told him he made the wish to be free from her so love no longer had a place between them. She took out the pouch with the fairy ointment and put it in his hands. “Take it, wipe it on your eyes, and then open them slowly. You will have the power to see the past.”

  He did as she instructed and he saw all that she had endured, all the pain, all the suffering, and the changing of the Ember Bark Tree.

  He stepped closer and took her hands. “My wish not to suffer at the loss of your love was selfish, but the love I have for you brought me back. My father died, and though the magic suspended my love for you, my heart broke through. I made my way back and came down this path each day, hoping that I would be able to find my way back to you. The wish kept confusing me, and I could not remember the secret way to you. I have tried for years, but could not reach you. I only want the wish broken and our love to be restored.”

  She looked at him and asked, “Could you love me until the power of the tree transforms me slowly back?”

  Cohen took her face in his hands. “I love you now, and I will love you until the end of time.” Without hesitating, he kissed her gently.

  Aldaina stepped back from him and told him to follow her. They walked through the thick brush of the forest and made their way to her secret palace. He was shocked to see how many trees she had grown in her garden from the single tree and asked how it was possible. She told him of the power of the fairy ointment and the miraculous growth of the tree. Tears spilled onto her cheeks, but she cared not to keep them. Cohen never interrupted her, but stepped over to her tree and took a crimson bloom from the bough. He wiped the tears from her face with its petals then knelt to dig a hole in the ground with his dagger near the base of the trunk. He placed the bloom in the hole and, at once, a tree began to grow. The bark was smooth and light. The tree twisted and turned, growing higher and thicker. Limbs began expanding, and leaves grew thick and hearty upon the branches. It towered above the other trees, and engulfed her tree as it grew. As it reached its peak, it turned pitch black. White blooms exploded all over the limbs, and then, one by one, each turned a dark crimson. Vines hung from the tree and snaked around the trunk. The bark stayed smooth and felt pliable to the touch.

  Aldaina stood in awe and breathed in the beauty and magic of the tree. One by one, the other trees began to wither as did the anger in her heart, and she watched until it was the only tree that stood before them. Breathing deeply, she felt the change begin deep within. Slowly, her twisted face began to feel like her own, and the crook of her fingers began to straighten.

  She turned to her one truest love, and he gasped. “How is it that you can be even more beautiful than before?”

  Aldaina took his hand and stepped close to him. “Your love gave me new strength, but it was my hope that allowed the transformation. I will never again shelter my life or my heart.”

  Cohen kissed her gently.

  Aldaina looked up at the beautiful Ember Bark Tree. “Only those with a love like ours or an honest heart will be allowed to take a bloom from our tree.”

  Cohen whispered, “You are all I could ever wish for.”

  Aldaina touched the smooth, blackened bark and whispered, “A selfish wish can destroy love, but only real love makes all wishes come true.”

  It is said that if you walk deep enough in the forests of old and your heart beats with honor and love, then Aldaina herself may greet you there. However, if by chance you come upon a tree blacker than the night sky, covered with white and crimson blooms, examine your heart before plucking a precious flower for your own, lest you, too, will become a part of the forest

  About the Author: Vanessa Hancock

  Vanessa Hancock resides in Alabama with her four children and teaches preschool. Her love for writing began early, and she makes time to pursue that dream daily. She believes the only way dreams come true is to believe in yourself and embrace the love and encouragement of family. Vanessa's other novels and short stories can be purchased on Amazon.

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  Guardian, By: Michelle Feury

  Chapter 1

  Amara stroked Desmond’s mane lightly as she stood at his side, letting what little sunlight that strained to get through the tangle of branches and leaves overhead to hit her face. She was out of breath from running for her life and sweat dripped from her brow profusely.

  “Don’t worry, boy. We’ll figure something out,” she said, unsure of her own response.

  Inside, she was a mess. She knew that the queen wanted her dead and it was only a matter of time before she found her.

  Today was supposed to be her day. She would have been getting married at this very moment, and then given her rightful place on the throne as the queen, but her stepmother had other plans. The evil woman had murdered her soon-to-be husband and had framed her for his death. She hadn’t wanted to be married, but her real mother and father had arranged it right after her birth. As unhappy as she was about the whole ordeal, she had made a promise to her father on his deathbed that she would follow through with the marriage.

  It was, after all, the best thing for the land. The two most powerful kingdoms would unite under one rule, bringing peace and security to their people.

  Oh, how Amara craved love. But in her world, that was nonexistent. So here she was, standing in the middle of the woods, scared, clueless, and afraid of the death that was heading straight for her. It was only a matter of time before the guards caught up to her.

  She had barely made it out of town without being caught. If it had not been for Desmon
d, she wouldn’t have. She looked into the bright blue eyes of the beautiful white unicorn as he stared back at her with deep knowledge. She knew that this magical creature understood more than he could express, and right now, he was her only friend in this cruel and unforgiving world.

  “I don’t know if I can do this, boy. Where is my happily ever after? If you ask me, whoever came up with the term should have been hung. It’s all a crock, you know? That person must have been out of their mind, or was just trying to give someone they cared for a shred of hope.”

  Desmond stomped his foot in protest of her statement.

  “Oh, come now. You know it’s true,” she said, letting her back slide down the green moss-covered tree trunk and coming to a halt as her bottom hit the earth floor.

  Thoughts filled her head about what her father would say if he saw her now. Get up now, Amara. A Lady never gets dirty. Have some pride in yourself. You know you must always look your best.

  “Look my best…be a Lady,” she grumbled aloud to herself. Her handmade white gown was now tattered, torn, and covered in filth. After pulling a few small twigs from her hair, she tried her best to smooth her shiny red locks back into place.

  Unable to hold back her tears any longer, she let the warm salt water take its natural course, flowing down her pink tinged cheeks and wetting the dirt pile that she sat upon. At first, she tried to stop herself from having the mental break down that was on the verge of completely taking over, but she gave in and let the wave take over. Her body began to shake and she clasped her head into her hands, sobbing loudly.

  As the minutes tolled by, she kept crying, sobbing, sniffling, and talking out loud to no one but Desmond and herself. Suddenly, she felt a gentle nuzzle against her shoulder.

  “Just leave me be, Desmond. It’s over. It’s all over.”

  Soon, there was another nuzzle, only this time it wasn’t as gentle.

  “Stop. Just stop, okay?” she said, not lifting her head that was buried between her knees. “I just don’t know what to do.”

  Desmond used his head and gave Amara a swift push, knocking her head out of her hands. Forcing her to move from her cradled position.

  “Desmond!” Amara yelled. She was getting ready to give him what for, until she looked up, and she drew in a quick breath in awe.

  Thousands of brilliant orange and black butterflies circled above them. She watched as the delicate creatures danced in a circle. They began to pick up speed, turning into nothing but a blur of color. The sound of fluttering filled her ears and the air from their wings licked at her body like a gentle April wind. The colors began to take shape before her eyes, taking on the form of a human. After what seemed like minutes, the form was complete.

  The most beautiful woman that she had ever seen now stood before her. Her hair was as black as a raven and came to a halt at her waist. It was in a braid, and all up and down it, tiny butterflies slowly waved their fragile wings. She was draped in a shimmering orange, nearly translucent gown that pooled around her feet.

  The woman approached Amara slowly, never taking a step, but glided to her instead, until they were mere inches apart.

  “Why now, whatever is the matter, child?” she asked in a voice that was so soothing that it was almost hypnotic.

  She stared back at the woman, struggling with her vocal cords to make a sound.

  “Well?” the woman asked gingerly. “Let’s have it now.”

  Amara was getting ready to speak, until she noticed the large crowd of woodland animals slowly making their way toward them.

  “Um, there are…there are animals staring at us. What’s going on? And who are you? What are you? I’m dreaming, am I not?”

  “No, this is not a dream. And about them: they heard your cries and are here to offer you their comfort,” she said. “Animals are amazing creatures and know more than humans realize. Now, not to rush you, but my time is quickly coming to an end. Could you please tell me what has you out here looking so forlorn?”

  “It’s my stepmother. She is about to have me killed. I was framed for the murder of the prince, but I didn’t kill him. I would never harm anyone or anything.”

  “Of course you wouldn’t, dear, but it sounds like you’re in quite a conundrum.”

  “Yes, ma’am; I am. I can’t go back. All of the evidence is pointing to me,” Amara said, wiping the tears from her face with the back of her hand, leaving behind a long smudge of dirt in their place.

  “I want to give you something,” the woman said, waving her hand over the palm of the other. A bright yellow light lit up the space between, and then quickly dissipated, leaving behind in its place a round golden object.

  The woman held the object out toward Amara, urging her to take it.

  “Thank you, but whatever am I to do with this?” she asked. “It’s just a mirror.”

  “Remember not everything is always as it seems,” the woman said. “Now, listen up. I want you to return to your home.”

  “But…”

  “You must do as I say!” the woman interrupted. “Rally your royal court and plea your case. The object you hold in your hand will help you. You have a destiny, child, that must be fulfilled.”

  The woman’s body began to tremble slightly and the form of butterflies began to push through underneath her skin, forcing their way out. She glided toward Desmond and rubbed his head as she whispered something into his ear.

  Amara got to her feet on shaky knees, holding the base of the tree for support. She looked over at the woman.

  “May I ask you what your name is, my lady?”

  “I have no name, child, nor do I have a true form. This one, it seems, is quickly slipping away. Please, do as I ask you. There is more at stake here than you realize if you do not go.”

  “I will do as you ask,” Amara replied. “Thank you from the bottom of my heart.”

  “Oh, there is one more thing I want to do for you.”

  She waved her hand, sending more yellow light toward Amara, illuminating her body. When the light faded, Amara’s looks had been transformed. She now wore a gown that matched the wings of the butterflies that made up the unknown woman.

  She took one last look at the lady before her body burst into thousands of butterflies that disappeared into the woods.

  Amara took a minute to admire the gorgeous, soft material that now covered her before walking over to Desmond. The unicorn knelt down, allowing Amara to mount his back. Once seated, he slowly lifted his front legs, and then took off in a gallop toward the castle. A new feeling of determination took over, giving her a small boost of confidence. Maybe things would be okay after all.

  Chapter 2

  After an hour and a half, Amara and Desmond entered the town through the large, wooden gate. The town’s people stopped in their tracks to glare at their would-be queen.

  “Boy, you have a lot of nerve to show your face here!” a man’s voice rang out from the crowd. The people roared in agreement.

  Was Amara’s pride hurt? No. But knowing that her people actually thought she could have committed such a heinous act stung deep. She had always been kind and respectful to them. She helped the needy when possible and even played games with children in the streets. Now, they all stood staring with confused and hate filled eyes.

  As Amara rode forward, she held her head up high. At this point, she didn’t try to convince anyone that she was innocent. The queen was talented in making people believe what she wanted. She was a master manipulator, and right now, she knew there was nothing she could do but to wait it out.

  It didn’t take long for the guards to catch wind of all the commotion and run toward her with their swords drawn.

  “Princess Amara, you are under arrest for the murder of Prince Terrin,” one guard said as he approached her.

  His name was Zander and she had grown up with him. The two were friends and now her heart hurt, knowing that he was the one to arrest her.

  She slowly climbed off Desmond. She petted the sta
llion gently then told him to leave. The unicorn shook his head, and then whinnied.

  “Please, Desmond. I fear for myself enough as it is. I can’t handle wondering whether you’re safe or not. Just go.”

  Desmond slowly turned, looking very reluctant about obeying, but began to trot away.

  “Zander, I came willingly. So, please let the court know that. You…you don’t believe this nonsense about my killing the prince, do you?”

  “Of course not, but it’s my head if I don’t follow the queen’s orders, and better me than someone else take you in,” he replied. “Don’t you agree?”

  “Of course, and thank you.”

  “If it makes you feel any better, I went to the court myself on your behalf. I told them that there was no way that you were capable of committing murder.”

  “You have always been so good to me,” she said, looking up at the man.

  “Well, what can I say? You’re like family to me. If there was anything else I could have done, I would have.”

  He linked arms with her and began leading her toward the castle, earning him disapproving looks from the other guards.

  Once they reached the prison, Zander opened up the cell door and held it open for her.

  “Such a gentlemen,” she said, stepping through the door and into her new room. She took in her surroundings, and then heard the metal lock on the door slide into place.

  “Please, my lady, don’t be sad,” Zander said. “I’ll bring you some things in just a bit. Try to get some rest. Heaven knows you’re going to need it. I’ll be back shortly, but right now I have to get back to my post.”

  Amara sat down on the bed, which was nothing more than a raggedy, beige cloth that covered a pile of hay on the cell floor. She pulled the mirror out from her corset and stared at her reflection. She looked awful despite the beautiful gown and nice hairstyle that she had been given. Her eyes were swollen from crying, and black bags hung loosely below them.