Cursed: The Legend of Sleeping Beauty

Chapter One - The Miller

Copyright Ⓒ 2019 by B. R. Bailey All Rights Reserved 

Once upon a time, in a kingdom long since past, there was a miller. He was an honest man, well known for his hard work and sincerity.

Everyone respected him for his wisdom, which was more sought after than his fine grain.

It was by his good mind and heart that this tale begins.

Heartfield was a village rich in grain and produce, as many villages were in the country of Alagil. Gustav Miller lived at the very edge of Heartfield, tending to his crops and watching the sunsets from his porch at the top of a high hill, overlooking the Enchanted Forest.

Many powerful, magic creatures lived in those woods. Some were helpful, others not. Being wise, Gustav chose to stay at a comfortable distance, only entering when it was necessary. Magic was complicated and the beings therein could be tricky and deceitful to those who possessed none.

Gustav's grain was selling especially well lately with the war. Being young and the only living member of his family, the Miller had been given leave from the draft to tend his crops.

Alagil was fighting with their neighbor, Brightstone. Brightstone was a quiet country that was known for its precious gems. Normally peaceful, the nation had recently begun to attack after trying to buy their way into the kingdom.

The King of Alagil hadn't liked their proposition, which required Alagil to cease trade with its other neighbors and solely give their excess goods to Brightstone, at a lower price than anything in the area sold for.

The King of Alagil had refused, stating that if they wanted out produce they had to buy it fair and square or trade items or services of equal value.

Now lives were being lost because people needed food and water.

Gustav hated thinking that, at that very moment, men were slaughtering each other over something so simple. Yet more were perishing from hunger.

Up in the Great Peaks, the mountains high above where the snow usually formed which peaks disappeared into the clouds, had been bare for the last five years. Brightstone, the country that was at the base of those great mountains, required the freshwater of the melted snow each spring to feed their fields and crops.

Alagil, much further away with a seperate natural water supply, had suffered the loss of many streams and a river from that drought yet managed to get by with their wells and huge lakes.

No one was sure why there hadn't been snow up high in five years. Alagil, which did get a powder coating of snow for a few weeks each year, hadn't seen a loss, not had Brightstone, which had it's normal 10 feet or so of snowfall.

In fact, none of the countries had anything unusual with their weather patterns.

The Great Peaks were an anomaly that no one dared investigate closely. The mountains were treacherous terrain that even the magicians of the Court didn't dare trespass.

Legend held tales of Dragons within the Peaks. Mythical beasts that flew upon the air with mighty leathery wings, their long necks and tails like that of a lizard, yet so large that the maw could open to swallow a man's horse whole.

Gustav had seen many kinds of magic creatures, living as close to the Enchanted Forest as he did. Dragons certainly had a long-standing place in folklore.

Perhaps they weren't all dead, like the stories all stated. Perhaps they were dead and it was just a tale to scare away the curious who would otherwise die from the treacherous drop-offs and wolves at the base of the mountain.