A boy and a woman sit across each other on a large and spacious bed. One a Prince and the other a Queen. The boy looks around five or so. He resembles the woman. And the woman - is young and beautiful. Her skin is unusually fair and flawless - as though she's never stepped out in the sun her entire life. And she is dressed eccentrically. She wears a black cloak which covers ALL her skin, and in her hand holds a ludicrously thick book. A book about a Prince and a Princess. A book with a happy ending.

"And they lived... happily ever after?" The woman exclaims in disgust, slamming the book shut with a thud. "Happily ever after? Nonsense I assure you!"

The boy doesn't understand what his Mother is so worked up for.

"What do you mean, Mother?" He questions naively. "The Prince married the Princess..."

"So?" The woman snaps. "So what?"

The boy is confused. "So... is that not a happy ending?"

The woman is impatient to impart this notion to her son. "In reality," She scowls. "There is no happy ending, My Son."

"No," The boy immediately disagrees. "That is not true!"

"As long as you are alive, your story continues. No, it does not end there."

"Mother-"

"Listen to me!" The woman pushes the boy's faces over so that it faces her. "Life always ends with death! That is the ending for every one of us. Everything, My Son, ends tragically."

The boys eyes widen in horror upon hearing his Mother declaring such a dreadful reality. Yes, death. Even at a tender age, he had been always aware of its menacing presence lurking in his life. But... Mother didn't have to raise up that topic again... What is she trying to prove? What is she doing?

Seeing her son's sheer look of terror, the Beautiful Lady realizes what she has done. She immediately regrets her outburst. Had she lost control of herself? Why shove forward to harsh realities of life into her son's perfect world?

"I am sorry, My Son," She whispers remorsefully. "Forgive my words..."

Her son just stares at her, dumbfounded.

"Anyway," The lady changes the topic uncomfortably. "You should take your bath. You smell like cockroach dung."

The boy decides to help shatter the silence between them. No point dwelling in the past, anyhow.

"I took my bath already, Mother," The boy replies obediently. He doesn't understand why his Mother always accuses him and his Father of smelling like cockroach dung. He was a very clean child, and Father was a clean man. So why did they always stink to her?

The lady blinks. Once. Then twice. Then she hesitates, looking rather sheepish.

"Oh... forgive me. Then it must be just me," The lady says - attempting to smile, but it comes out as a grimace.

The boy nods again. His Mother is acting strangely today.

The lady stands to her feet and heads to the door. There is a sad look on her face. Her son doesn't understand her behavior at all. He isn't meant to at the moment. Only when he's older, will he. That is such of the way of life.

Most Mothers would kiss their son goodnight. Most Mother would tell their son they love him. But she doesn't. Instead, she cries softly.

"Life is unfair, My Son," She chokes, before disappearing from sight.

Ten years later, The Prince finds out that his Mother, The Queen, is actually a Witch.

Twisted Tales

~Chapter 1: A Giant's Beans?~

JACK'S POV

"Prince Jackildophil," The Knight dipped his head in respect. "Please enter."

I nodded back curtly, before heading on into the largest and most grandeur chamber ever constructed in the universe.

My Father, The King, was seated upright on his majestic throne, scanning me solemnly - just as one would scrutinize a new horse. His frigid eyes seemed to pick out everything about me. My strengths, my weaknesses, my fears, my... Well, basically, he seemed to be accessing me.

I was used to being judged. By my people, by the ministers, by my servants, by anyone and everyone. It came with the 'Crown Prince' title. There was a price to pay for everything. So I followed through with my usual practiced mask. I simply forced my features to remain impartial as I held his overbearing gaze boldly. I musn't drop it. It was a sign of weakness.

"You have grown into a... handsome young man," The King finally spoke.

It was true he hadn't summoned me in two years already, but I really wasn't expecting that.

I bowed. "You flatter me, Father."

"Aye," The King continued. "And you are..." His dark eyes darted to my face once more. "Eighteen years of age?"

"Seventeen," I finally corrected. "I am to turn Eighteen in eight days."

"I see..." The King sighed wearily. "Then I assume you know the reason you have been summoned?"

I nodded. I had been prepared for this since I could crawl around on fours. The countless of mind-cracking 'History' lessons, the incessant bone-cracking fencing lessons... They weren't coincidental. But to prepare me - to prepare me for this day.

"Which is?" The King asked testily.

"To prove myself worthy of the crown," I recited evenly. "It is family tradition."

"Go on."

All this information had been drilled into my head since I was an infant. I was basically a walking-talking dictionary. If Father was testing my knowledge, I had to make a good impression of myself.

"I am to find a set of Giant's Beans which lead to a Giant's lair - and to steal from that Giant - and return safely."

"Excellent," The King commended me. He stared at me thoughtfully for a long moment. "Ah... What do you know of this family tradition of ours?"

Oh damn. He had caught me! The tutor simply hadn't enlightened me on that particular subject. Perhaps he hadn't known either?

"I know not, Father."

The King furrowed his brows upon this. I could never tell what was going on under that composed mask of his. Perhaps he was thinking? My Father was a wise man - but one of few words. Even when he argued, he spoke little, but meaningfully.

Thinking before speaking was a vital habit of his.

"Have you heard of... Jack and the Beanstalk?" He asked at last.

I nodded shortly - yes. It was a famous historic tale. "He discovered a handful of Giant Beans and from there, grew a beanstalk which led to a Giant's lair. He climbed it, entered the lair, and stole from the Giant."

"Aye," My Father agreed. "The very one. He was the founder of this tradition - and our ancestor."

"Jack?"

The name sounded way to coincidental to just be plain coincidental. Jack and Jackildophil. Gosh! My name was unoriginal! And I had thought Jackildophil was a rather special name at first!

The King seemed to have read my mind. "Yes, and your name - is Jack as well."

"My name? It is Jackildophil!" I protested. What was Father talking about? I was Jackildophil, I am Jackildophil, and I always would be Jackildophil. I was pretty sure that that was my name. I would know better!

"No," The King contradicted. "Your true name is Jack."

"Excuse me, Father?"

"My name is Jack too, and so was my Father, and my Grandfather - and generations and generations before that."

"Wait-"

"And so will your son's name be," The King finished softly. "Our line... is cursed."

My jaw dropped unceremoniously at the last statement. Our line was cursed? Oh come on, if it was cursed, I would have felt it by now. A handful of royal lines were cursed - usually by witches/fairy godmothers (they were the same thing). But not mine! This was certainly hard to believe.

Then I grew aware of my rather un-prince-like act, and proceed to close my mouth at once.

I wanted to argue with The King all day till I got my way, but I decided against it. Telling the King that he was wrong wasn't a very intelligent idea. And besides, it just felt like the wrong time to object.

So instead, I bombarded him with questions.

"Why is our line cursed, My Lord?" I asked quietly.

The King stared back gravely at me. It occurred to me that he was deliberating.

"Sleeping Beauty." He answered my question with another question. "Does it ring any bells?"

I tried to recall the historical lessons and the grueling essays which my tutor had forced me into doing. Sleeping Beauty... Her real name was Princess Astra or something... And she... And she was cursed by an...

"Evil Godmother!" I exclaimed triumphantly, before re-collecting my composure about me. "She was cursed by a witch upon birth."

As the King nodded, satisfied, I began to piece the puzzle pieces together once more. So our line was cursed? Had the very first Jack's kid had been cursed by an evil fairy godmother, a.k.a witch? This was horribly confusing.

And what exactly was the curse? I was dying to know. It affected ME after all.

But as far as The King was concerned, his 'Father and Son bonding time' was over. And it was time for me to leave his chamber. He had other important matters to get down to, and that included running his country.

"I apologize, My Son, but I have a counsel meeting in ten minutes," The King said as he glanced at his silver wrist watch. "I am afraid you have to ask your tutor the rest."

I performed a full body bow once more to acknowledge that I'd heed his request. My Father merely glanced once more in my direction before sweeping up his silky, bellowing robe and heading to the doorway.

Unconsciously, I found myself observing him closely. He appeared weary - and... worried of something? What was it? It brought back memories of the time in which the news of my stepsister, Snow White's escapade with a foreign Prince had reached him.

"Until we meet again, Father," I whispered my farewell.

I turned and started to make my way on outside.

"Remember," The King said instead. "You are to embark on your mission in three days. I wish you luck."

I honestly didn't like the sound of that.