Once, there was a king in a mighty realm. Uncommonly, for the older times, there was no war during his reign and his country prospered. As all citizens were wealthy, they had ample time enough to educate themselves further and thus also science and knowledge thrived in this kingdom to a degree, that other countries, being not so well of, could only call them magic.

One day, though, the king's daughter fell deathly ill. There was no man in the whole kingdom who would not have helped her back to health, as she was bright and sunny as the sun. But no one knew how to cure the princess Auriel. It was then that the king send message to the other kingdoms, that whoever cured his little girl would be trusted with the king's lands and crown. On and on the messengers rode, but the illness of the princess got worse, even as more and more people went off searching for a cure. In a night with no moon the princess finally stopped breathing.

The king hid his face in his hands. As he did, he did not see how the pale woman had entered the room that stood aside his daughter' deathbed. But she spoke to him, and when he looked through his fingers, he saw her standing there, where none could have trespassed.

"Your daughter is not dead," she said, "though she soon will be, if death's path she's led. But still, she can be saved. Or not, depending."

"How," croaked the king, "I'd give you everything!"

Even speaking he could see how the last hints of red left the cheeks of his daughter.

"The price might be something, not you, but your daughter has to pay."

"She's my daughter, she'll have the whole world at her feet and more money she can spend in a lifetime!"

"But," said the woman, "if I do heal her, she'll also have terrible foes hunting her. She will not age, but you will. And lastly, she will never give birth. You still want me to heal her?"

The king was a wise man. He knew the queen wouldn't give birth to a second child. If Auriel was never to give life to a successor, the dynasty would be broken. If the dynasty were broken, there would likely come a war within his lands. And though he wished for nothing more in his life than for his daughter to breathe again, he knew that whenever life is given to the dead, nothing good comes from it.

"No, not actually."

"It is good you understand. However, not to your orders I bend."

Suddenly the three windowpanes in Princess Auriel's room shattered and wind filled it with a roaring speed. The furniture was pressed against the walls and there where glass shards flying around everywhere. The king, struggling against his chair watched as the woman's scarf unfurled into two mighty black wings as she bend down to say a word into his little girl's ear. Then he saw nothing any more as the candle by his daughter's bed extinguished.

When the queen went looking for her man having spent another night without sleep, lonely and in sorrow, she found the king asleep in the armchair in her daughter's chamber. But the princess was awake, even well, and did not remember ever being ill.

The queen and the king lived happily ever after, until they died. It did not matter to them as much as the king had thought that their dynasty was broken and that they had to declare the dimwit Modeg, son of a concubine of the king's, heir. They lived to short as Modeg's first act of state was to poison their breakfast.

But when he searched for the princess to throw her into the dungeon as a hostage against the king's council, he couldn't find her, nor could anyone else throughout the decline of the king's realm to what we know today as Modeg.

Some say, though, a small figure stood weeping at the libraries' highest tower when Caluptena burned away. Fewer persons yet remember the last time the four plate door was opened. And the one who managed to stuck it shut again. I myself am one of the last two persons remembering Auriel's true name, she who in the old tongue is also referred to as princess Ariel, but this is an other story and not my place to tell.

It took me about three years to guess her stories from parchment pieces, clay tiles and the occasional cross reference. This is why I was so surprised when my dimwit-pupil Kvothe came so close to her real name. But listen to how I encountered the princess first and judge for yourself: