Just a short note, then I'll let you get on to the story.
This idea came to me back in November and I've been working on it for the last few months. I wanted to get a large portion of this story written before I decided to post, and with 70,000+ words currently tucked away on my laptop, I can officially say that I have done so.
This is without a doubt the longest work I have ever written and it's not finished yet. I will be posting the first chapter along with the prologue, and will aim to update twice a week.
So without further ado, here it is!
PROLOGUE
Once upon a time, in a far away land, there lived a prince and a princess. The tale of their romance was not an easy one. Prince Charming and Snow White had to overcome many obstacles on their path to one another.
You see, Prince Charming was originally betrothed to another, and Snow White, well; she was a thief and a bandit on the run from The Evil Queen. Eventually though, true love prevailed and they married.
This however, was not their happy ending. The past has a funny way of coming back to haunt you and every decision has its consequences. As a mere child Snow White betrayed a confidence, believing that it was the right thing to do. His name was Daniel. Regina loved him and he died.
From that moment on, Regina held a grudge against Snow White: A grudge that would eventually result in Regina becoming The Evil Queen.
Happily married, Prince Charming and Snow White were expecting their first child. Then news came that The Evil Queen was planning to curse the land and take the kingdom for her own.
Just days before the baby was due, Prince Charming and Snow White, with a little help from the Blue Fairy, managed to come into possession of a very special kind of bean. The Evil Queen was lured, captured by her own hatred. A portal was created and she was banished to another realm.
The morning after, Snow White gave birth to a beautiful baby girl. They named her Emma and her hair was as gold as the sun and her eyes shone with the colours of earth and grass and all that is good and green.
With the Evil Queen exiled, Charming and Snow White took their rightful place as King and Queen, and for the next ten years, the royal couple and young Emma lived what they believed was their happily ever after.
Emma sits in her chair at the large dining table. Her mother and father sit across from her, eating their breakfast, conversing amicably about something she has no interest in at all. Emma pushes the food around on her plate; she's too excited to eat. Today is her tenth birthday and all she wants to do is run down to the stables and go for a ride.
Her father bought her a new horse yesterday because she's getting taller now and has outgrown her pony. She wants to try out her new mount before her mother rushes her back up to the castle to prepare her for this evening's birthday ball.
"Mom? Dad?" Emma sits on the edge of her seat, practically vibrating, ready to take off running as soon as she has permission. "Can I go ride Aurelia now? Please!"
Snow White looks up from her plate and nods. Emma is half way to the door she hears her mother call.
"Emma, wait!" Snow points to her riding cloak, forgotten on the chair. "Bring that with you, it's still cold out. And thank your father for the new horse!"
Emma runs back to grab her cloak and presses a kiss to father's cheek, then leans over and presses one to her mother's as well.
She slings the cloak over her shoulders, securing it at her neck as she exits the castle and takes off running. The stables are located near the edge of the massive cliff-top property and she's glad that her father taught her how to ride properly because it gives her an excuse to get out of dresses and wear breeches. She has no interest in riding side-saddle in a dress like some dainty lady.
When she enters the stables, William the stable hand is working. He's been around for a long as Emma can remember, probably before she was born. She greets him with a smile as she grabs her brushes and makes her way over to Aurelia's stall.
Emma combs her fingers through the mare's long flaxen mane and twists it into a running braid along her neck. She brushes Aurelia's golden coat until it gleams and picks the dirt from her hooves. She takes her time getting to know the new horse; creating a bond while she prepares for her ride.
By the time she's ready to mount, she can hear her stomach growling loudly. Perhaps skipping breakfast wasn't the smartest idea. William must have heard it too because he walks over to her with an apple in hand.
"Here you go princess." He hands her the apple. "Wouldn't do to have you fainting from hunger and falling from your horse, now would it?"
Emma accepts the apple with a "thank you" and shines it against her shirt before taking a big bite.
She barely manages a step forward before her vision swims. The ground blurs before her eyes, rushing up to meet her face, and just before she loses consciousness, she sees William disappear in a cloud of purple smoke. In his place stands a dark haired woman in a strange black dress.
Charming sits in the castle library with a book open on his lap. His feet are propped up on the table in front of him and for the hundredth time he forgets his place on the page. His thoughts drift to Emma. Ten years old today. He can scarcely believe it. Seems like just yesterday he was holding her in his arms for the first time, all bright eyes and golden peach fuzz. Before he knows it, she'll be sixteen and they'll be picking out suitors for her. He chuckles lightly. It's likely she'll be refusing them all.
He feels Snow's presence before he sees her and he looks up as she enters the room.
"David? Could you run down to the stables and fetch our daughter?" Snow holds up a dress. "I think she's trying to avoid preparing for her ball tonight. Honestly, getting that girl into a dress is harder than breaking a curse."
Charming closes his book and stands up. "You know, I remember a time years ago when you were just as reluctant to put on a dress. Maybe you should ask yourself where she gets it from."
He places a gentle kiss on Snow's forehead, smiling as he walks through the doorway. Like mother, like daughter, in so many ways.
He walks slowly to the stables, knowing how much Emma enjoys her time around the horses. Summer is over now and while the sun still sits high in the sky, he can feel the coolness of autumn asserting its presence in the crisp air.
When he reaches the stables, he knows immediately that something is wrong. It's too quiet; far too quiet. Emma's new horse stands in her stall, door open, still fully tacked.
"Emma?" he calls, concerned.
Nothing.
"William?"
Still nothing.
He turns the corner, searching, and his heart stops, sputtering to an abrupt halt in his chest. On the floor is a bright red apple with a bite taken out of it.
Everything happens so quickly. Guards are alerted. There's calling and shouting as horses are mounted and the palace grounds and surrounding forest are scoured in search of Emma. He knows it's too late though. He knows who took her.
Snow has been alerted and comes rushing down to the stables, Emma's dress still clutched tightly in her hands. Their eyes meet and David embraces her tightly.
"We will find her. I promise. We will find our daughter," his words are spoken fervently against Snow's temple.
They hold each other tightly for minutes, hours, he's not entirely sure how long. At some point the horse fusses in her stall and David guides Snow to a bale of straw and sits her down. She's still clinging to Emma's dress and her eyes are unfocused, looking right through him as if he's a ghost.
He steps away and moves to un-tack Emma's horse. As he loosens the cinch and pulls the saddle from her back, a black envelope falls to the ground.
He picks it up and takes a seat next to Snow. As he opens it, a small shard of mirror, no larger than his palm slides out. Next to the mirror is a piece of parchment. He unfolds it and holds it out so that they both may read it.
Snow White, Charming,
I have taken that which you hold most dear. I could have just killed her right where she stood and left her body there for you to find, but that seemed too simple a fate. No. Instead I have decided to curse her and lock her away where you will never reach her.
She will not die. But she may wish that she could. You see death is a far kinder fate than that which I have bestowed up on her. Every night when the sun sets, it will take with it, her golden glow. She will be reduced to a shell of herself, cursed by night to foresee death.
She will have until midnight on her twentieth birthday to break the curse. If she does not, she will spend an eternity as Bean Sidhe: doomed to foresee death after death, as a mere wraith, her physical self gone from this realm.
Perhaps you are wondering about that broken piece of mirror? I have included it so that you may glimpse her suffering and suffer along with her. It will only work after sun down, so that you may never again see the light that was once your daughter.
- Regina
David allows the parchment to flutter to the floor in front of them. Snow turns into him, face pressed against his chest, her body shaking silently against his. He wraps an arm around her shoulders and turns the shard of mirror over in his hand, fingers tracing the sharp edges.
Together they wait for sun down.
Emma wakes gradually, her head pounding and mouth dry. She sits up slowly and takes in her surroundings. She's in some sort of underground cavern. It's not entirely dark; far up on one wall there's a small barred window through which light filters in. She stands and stumbles over to the nearest wall.
Emma reaches out with her hand to steady herself and her palm makes contact with rough stone. She walks the perimeter of the room searching for a door but the stone walls are continuous, running in a large circle uninterrupted. On one side Emma finds a beaten up old chest filled with an assortment of tattered clothing. Next to it is rickety shelf filled with books; their pages are stained yellow and they smell of mildew.
On the other side of her prison there are two buckets. One empty and one filled with water. There's a mirror fastened to the wall. It's a large oval, rimmed in ornate scrolling silver. Several large cracks run through it and a small shard is missing from the bottom edge.
Wandering back to the centre of the cavern, she sits down on the lumpy straw-filled mattress. She looks up but there isn't a ceiling in sight. Above the small window, the walls of the cavern fade into inky blackness. In the quiet, she can hear the sound of waves crashing against a distant shore. All alone, Emma drops her head into her hands and cries.
A loud screech startles Emma from sleep. She looks up to see a crow silhouetted between the bars of the window. Her nose is stuffed and her temples throb from crying. She must have passed out from sheer exhaustion. The cell is damp and cold and the mattress does little to provide a barrier but it's better than sleeping on the dirty floor.
Emma wishes for her parents, her maid, her guards, anyone at all. She may have her father's courage and her mother's spirit but she's still just a child and the closest she's ever come to spending time alone in the darkness, was a warm spring night months ago when she insisted on sleeping in the stables, waiting for her favourite mare to give birth.
Fear seizes her chest and she wants nothing more than to break down again but she can't cry any more. She has no tears left. She draws her knees up to her body and wraps her arms tightly around her shins. Emma stares at the lone barred window high up on the wall. Her only source of light dwindles as the sun sinks below an invisible horizon.
Just before darkness settles, she feels a cold chill wash over her that has little to do with the damp sea air. Her fingers begin to ache, tingling with uncomfortable tension. Holding her hand out in front of her, she watches in horror as her skin blanches, and tightens. Her muscles seem to wither in front of her eyes and her bones and tendons stand out in sharp relief against thin glowing skin.
The ache spreads over her body, rushing through her chest, up her neck and to settle in her skull. She reaches up and feels how her eyes have sunken into their sockets, her cheek and jaw bones press back harshly against her fingers. She trails her fingers down her chest and can count every rib, her skin nothing but a thin veil between bone and air.
Standing, she rushes over to the mirror. There's barely any light left in the cavern but she can see herself clearly. Emma stares at her reflection in the broken mirror. What looks back at her steals the breath from her lungs in a gasp. Her long golden hair is now pale, white, and almost translucent. Her skin is ashen and glows eerily with a sickly pallor. Her face and body appear gaunt, sunken as though all the life has left her. Dark shadows circle her eyes and once bright irises are now dull grey.
Emma turns away, unable to stand her reflection any longer. She looks dead, she thinks with disgust. She looks like a monster.
Panic sets in as the last vestige of light vacates her prison. If there is a moon tonight, she cannot see it. Darkness envelopes her and she stares into the abyss: nothing but inky blackness in front of her. She wonders if her eyes are even open. When her fingers make contact with her eyelashes, she hears it. It's a quiet whimpering and she wonders if maybe she's not alone in her prison. She searches the darkness and sees a young boy, about her age hiding behind a rickety old straw cart.
"Hello?" she calls out to him but the boy can't seem to hear her.
"What's wrong? Can I help you?" she tries again but still, he doesn't reply. Emma walks over to him and when she tries to place a hand on his shoulder, it passes right through him. She tries again and again but it's as if he's a ghost.
"BOY!" A loud voice booms, and Emma staggers backwards, pressing herself against the stone wall of the cavern.
A large man walks up to the boy and grabs him roughly by the collar, dragging him forcefully from his hiding place. The man is drunk. Emma can smell the alcohol on his breath.
"STUPID BOY! YOU LEFT THE GATE OPEN!" The man bellows as he backhands the boy across the face. Splitting his lip and sending him sprawling into the dirt.
The boy whimpers again, arm coming up to shield his face. But the man kicks him in the stomach instead.
"STUPID, GOOD FER NOTHING STABLE BOY!"
Another kick.
"THE HORSES ARE GONE!"
Kick.
"RUN OFF TO GOD KNOWS WHERE!"
Kick.
Emma watches helplessly, as the boys arm falls limply to his side. She slides down the wall, her legs no longer able to support her.
"NO!" she screams as the man delivers one final, sickening blow to the boys head before disappearing.
She crawls slowly across the floor to the boy and kneels beside him. She tries but she can't touch him. She can't help him. He can't even hear her. She wants to apologize, to say sorry for not being able to help him. She wants to whisper words of reassurance. She wants him to know he's not going to die alone. But he is going to die and it's going to be alone and there isn't anything at all she can do to help.
Her hands fall weakly into her lap. Emma watches the boy struggle to breathe, blood pooling beneath his head and bubbling up past his lips. When he takes his final breath and the light leaves his eyes, Emma screams.
Snow sits next to her husband, his hand clasped tightly in her own. They've not spoken a word since reading Regina's letter. Sitting in silence they've waited for the sun to set. Minutes earlier David lit several lanterns, illuminating the stables with the soft glow of firelight. It's almost dark now and she holds the shard of mirror tightly in her hand, its rough edges biting into the flesh of her palm.
Outside the sun dips below the horizon and together they watch as the surface of the mirror shifts, swirling from reflective silver to the purest of blacks.
At first they see nothing but darkness. Suddenly there's a white-grey blur moving about and Emma's face appears in the shard of mirror. Except, it's not Emma, it can't be. The figure has Emma's high cheekbones, her long flowing hair and is wearing her clothes, but everything else is wrong. So wrong. This must be the curse Regina placed upon her, Snow thinks, horrified. They watch as Emma turns around, only her back now visible in the shard.
"Hello?" Emma's voice calls uncertainly and Snow nearly sobs at the sound.
"Emma? Honey? I'm here, I can hear you!" Snow calls but Emma doesn't reply. Instead she walks further away as if searching for something.
Emma speaks again softly. "What's wrong? Can I help you?" She reaches out as if trying to touch something but her hand just falls back to her side. Emma tries a few more times before suddenly stepping backwards and pressing herself tightly against the wall.
They watch as Emma cowers against the wall, her distorted features show that she is clearly terrified by something she is seeing. Moments later she crumples to the floor.
"NO!" The unexpected scream and anguish in Emma's voice cause David to jump beside her.
They watch as Emma crawls across the grimy floor, stopping to kneel after a few feet. She reaches out to touch something again but her hand just falls to the ground. Snow can see tears streaming down Emma's face and knows her own cheeks are wet with grief as well.
Emma's hands fall hopelessly into her lap, fisting in her cape, and she screams.
It's a loud keening cry, full of anger and sorrow and fear. Snow's heart nearly stops beating at the sound of it. She grips David's hand tighter and they turn as the glass windows of the stable rattle violently in their frames. When Emma finally stops screaming, the windows burst, glass shattering into thousands of pieces.
The horses pace in their stalls, frightened, throwing their weight against the doors as they whinny in fear, trying to flee.
When Snow looks back down at the shard of mirror, it's just that; her own face reflected back at her. David takes it from her hand, sliding it into his pocket. He embraces her fiercely and together they cry.