Prologue: Birth by Death
She was born under the twinkle of full moon light, on February 1st. In a lotus bird's heartbeat she breathed her first breath, and began to live a life full of wonder, full of magic and full of darkness.
At such young age, no one foresaw the dark deeds that would come her way, the scary promises life had made for her. No, they saw a young beauty, born a diamond in the rough. They saw what they wanted to: they saw the future. Well… maybe not everyone.
At the birth of any child in the kingdom, at the excuse of the king's offspring, there was a town party, to allow all townspeople to meet one of their own. Today, on her third day of life, was her party. Everyone, from the bard to the Jacobean priest, was there. Even the most repulsive of commoners, Ilsya the witch, had come. All for different reasons.
Ilsya walked slowly, tracing a design into the wall as she did. She went unnoticed, though smoke swirled around her, towards the crib. She smiled, her eyes glistening as the beautiful baby came into view. Pretty girl, she thought. The tiniest hint of dark hair already grew on her head and her own eyes, green, sparkled. Very pretty, she thought, as she walked closer.
Though small, the town hall housed over 100 people and other beings. The walls were made of faerie marble, a rare resource since faerie were limited in work force. The roof rose to a prominent 40 feet and was accented with enchanted vines, a plant that protected the hall from spells and curses of all sorts. This very hall was made by the hands Ilsya. And soon it would be at her mercy.
Ilsya skin's crackled with electricity as she drew closer to the child, her lips puckered in delight. "Wonderful," she muttered.
"What is?" Ilsya turned around, slowly, annoyed.
"What is what?" A guard of the hall smiled down at her, bearing a foot taller than her. He was properly dressed, with a scabbard attached to his waist. Ilsya knew him by name, she knew all of the hall guards by name. On particularly cold nights, Ilsya would sneak into the hall and practice spells in secret. The guards, being of her own creation, would let her in without hesitation. This one was Garth.
"Hello Garth," she cooed, extending her hand. He kissed it.
"Lady Ilsya, I see you've come out of the woodwork again. I was just asking what was so wonderful." Ilsya shrugged.
"This hall. And that child," she pointed at the wooden crib and walked over to it. Garth followed unknowingly. "Isn't she so pretty? And pale too." The young guardsman nodded, then extended a hand towards the child. From behind them, a shot of lightning came.
"Didn't I tell you she would come? What are you doing here witch?" The entire hall was cast into silence at the arrival of King Stefan and Queen Leah. Neither looked happy. King Stefan, a stocky, muscled man with full beard, stepped forward, his sword drawn. He wore the ideal king's wear for parties: a long, flowing tailored surcoat and long pointed shoes. His head was bare but during times like these the weather was warm so there was no need for hats. Beside him of course, stood Queen Leah, a look displeasure on her face. Ilsya couldn't help but laugh which only made her scowl deepen.
She was a slender, fair woman with dark blonde hair and eyes much similar to the child's. Most knew her as a kind, loving woman. Most did not include Ilsya. "I said what are you doing here?" she demanded when Ilsya didn't answer soon enough. The witch smiled darkly, her gaze resting on the child.
"What we all are doing here," she paused to glance around the room, "taking a peek at the child." Leah stepped forward bravely.
"You are not welcome." The smile disappeared from Ilsya's lips.
"No? Since when did you care about the affairs of the kingdom?"
"I have always cared about the kingdom and to besides, she is my niece." Behind her the king nodded, slightly waving his sword. "And you are not welcomed here," she repeated. Ilsya placed a hand on the queen's shoulder while gesturing around the hall.
"Who made this hall, hmm? Was it you? Or perhaps it was one of your good witches," she sneered, "or maybe your knights built it. No? I didn't think so. I built it, therefore I should be allowed to enter it when I please."
"That is not the deal we made Ilsya," the king said, forcing himself between the witch and the queen. His hands were shaking, he knew what Ilsya was capable of, but the sword remained steady. It was moment like these that made him regret ever letting the wretched witch live. Years ago, when he was younger and stupid, his guards had captured the witch on a hunt through the forest. They brought her back and after days of threating to end her existence, the king made a deal with her. Create a hall as a present to the queen as she could go free. Now he realized it was a mistake.
"You must leave now," he demanded. The four castle guards that had accompanied the majesties stepped forward as well, all brandishing swords. With a flick of her hand, Ilsya dispatched the swords.
"Now boys, there's no need to be hasty. I just wanted to give the little tot a gift… of sorts." Ilsya turned back to the crib and stroked the child's face. Soft skin, she thought. Warm skin. A comfortable feeling for hands so cold. The baby gurgled happily as thin smoke swirled around it. The crowd held it's breath as lightning crackled around the crib. Moments later, the smoke cleared and the mini-storm stopped. The queen stepped forward. Ilsya was gone.
"Stefan," Leah breathed. The baby remained in the crib, but unharmed they couldn't tell. Clear fog danced around the baby's legs, till they disappeared. Around it's neck was a necklace, a black heart pendant attached to it. The queen reached for it and gasped. It was as cold as ice. The fog rose from the crib and began to travel around the room.
"What… what's going on?" Garth said before slumping to the ground. The entire room followed suit as the fog swirling around the child grew bigger until it filled the room.
If anyone had been awake, they would have witnessed the fog clear and Ilsya walking through the door purposely towards the crib yet again. They would have witnessed her pick up the child and sing a sweet lullaby. They would have witnessed her final words before both she and the child disappeared. They would have heard her whisper to the baby girl:

"Grow now my little one. Grow into a wonderful, dark witch. Grow into a malevolent, magnificent woman. Become my little Maleficent."