Based on art by my friend Claude, Sleeping Beauty, and to some extent Neil Gaiman's Sleeper and the Spindle. I'm revamping this story so I hope you like it and don't mind the construction I'm doing on it.
There was a time in the not so distant past when magic was a very real thing used for both evil and good.
A time when no one ever questioned the existence or validity of things such as hexes and spells, and as such there was many a cautionary tale told to both young and old. The fairy tales and folklore were worth their weight in gold.
The humans had learned to be wary of the enchanted creatures that inhabited the forests and hills, for who would be foolish enough to slight such a being? They grew to learn to live in harmony with these creatures, for if they didn't, they would be sure to suffer dearly for their mistakes.
There was superstition in every household, and each family did what they could to avoid the wrath of good folk. One family was particularly cautious, for they knew the price that would be paid were they to grow lax.
In the setting sun two young boys chased after one another, childish giggles echoing throughout the hillside. They had gone out to keep their father company as he tirelessly worked to harvest the rest of the years crops.
The gods had smiled down upon the family that year and they were met with a great bounty, so great in fact that it would be very laborious to harvest it all before the frost set in. This work did not hold the children's attention for long no matter how they had promised to help, and of course soon they were running about and playing instead offering their father any sort of help.
The life of a miller was not interesting enough to hold the attention of children under ten, and it hadn't been long before the two had run off, chasing each other along the edge of the forest.
"It's not fair!" The littler of the two, a small chubby cheeked brunette, complained with a stomp of a little foot. "You're too fast, Roxas. I don't ever, ever get to win!" The other child, taller than his brother by nearly a head, laughed, slowing his pace and turning back to address his younger brother.
"Of course I'm faster than you, Sora. I'm older than you by two years, nearly three. I'll probably always be faster than you." The grin on his face was a mischievous one. One of a boy who found joy in teasing his younger brother.
Sora's reply went unheard however, when a streak of red made itself visible just past the trees. Roxas immediately rushed to the very edge of the forest, pushing past brush to search for the creature.
He had never seen a fox before, not a living one. Not one that wasn't already a pelt being sewn into a muff in his mother's lap.
The fox, sleek and beautiful, pinned him in place with coal black eyes before turning and fleeing deeper into the lush green foliage, as if beckoning him to follow. The blond was prepared to chase the creature as far as it would let him until the sound of his little brother's shouting caught his attention, snapping him out of the almost trance like state he was in. He hurried back to the younger boy's side, tripping over himself.
Sora was standing directly beyond the trees, looking absolutely furious.
"Why did you run away like that? We were playing." He folded his little arms, looking miffed. Roxas looked back to the forest, feeling what might be considered longing, before replying.
"Sorry. I saw a fox and thought he might be more fun to race." He said with a half shrug, clearly provoking his younger brother. "You're just so slow..."
"Nuh uh!" he cried. "I'll beat you home and prove that I can be faster than you!" He didn't wait for a reply to his declaration, turning and sprinting toward their family's little cottage. Little legs pumped themselves as fast as they could carry them towards home.
Roxas followed in hot pursuit, and it was he who touched the doorway first with a crow of triumph. Sora began wailing the very minute he realized he'd been beaten once again, big tears rolling down rosy cheeks.
Looking up from the handkerchief she'd been embroidering, the boys' mother, Tifa, a pretty shapely woman with long dark hair and amber eyes, quickly rose from her little chair by the fire to take the crying boy into her arms.
"Roxas, were you teasing your brother again?" The woman shot the boy an accusatory glare.
"I wasn't!" He defensively replied, shrinking away from his mother's intensity. "We were just racing today and I kept winning. He's just being a sore loser." The blond turned up his nose, ignoring the smaller boy's whimpers.
"Roxas!" The woman's glare only intensified, causing the blond's grumpy pout to disappear immediately at the thought of actually being in trouble. Reaching out, she grabbed the little blond by his hand.
"You have to give Sora a turn to win too, you know that. When I let you out I expect you to play fair." Using the corner of her apron she wiped the little brunette's eyes and nose, patting messy boyish hair with a loving hand. "Sora, I was making corn cakes today and I think I made too many…" The boy was gone in an instant, tears all but a distant memory, leaving Roxas to his scolding. Tifa sighed, kneeling before her son and taking his other hand, holding them both in hers.
"Roxas, you know Sora is younger than you, and that means he's smaller than you are. It is your duty as his older brother to see that he is happy and that no harm comes to him. As his older brother you need to protect him. I will not always be here to see to that." Roxas nodded, the grumpy look on his face fading into one of understanding.
This caused his mother to smile softly, cupping his cheek.
"You're a good brother. But being a good brother means playing fair and playing nice, understood?" The boy nodded again and the woman took him into her arms, holding him to her in the comforting embrace only a mother could provide. "I knew you would, my good boy." She released him, looking more proud than angry now, and Roxas was relieved all was forgiven. "Best head to the kitchen quick before Sora eats all the cakes." She added with a playful smile. Roxas was off with a flash again.
It was after the boys had stuffed themselves with confectionaries and found a new game to play that their father appeared in the doorway, looking worn but slightly amused.
"I take it Roxas and Sora weren't much help in the fields today." Tifa smiled knowingly, leading her husband to a comfortable spot by the fire. The autumn chill had already started to set in during the nights, making every room but the one with the fireplace bitterly cold during the nights and mornings.
Cloud, the patriarch of the little household, was a tall blond man with a muscular build. As formidable as he looked, however, he held a wry sense of humor. He just snorted and shook his head.
"If running around and yelling all about the hillside counts as helping then, yes, they were wonderful additions." He said, a small smile ghosting his features. Tifa rolled her eyes, settling beside her husband.
"I told you they'd do more playing than working. Sora is only six years of age you know." She reminded him. Cloud shrugged.
"True but when I was Roxas' age I was already working in the fields with my father every day. He is already eight years old, I'd at least like to show him something. If only for bragging rights." The two were incredibly proud of their children, so much so that the entire village was aware. In this day and age, who wouldn't be proud to not only have one but two healthy, bright boys.
Perhaps if the Strife family unit wasn't so intimidating and impenetrable the villagers would gossip about how the children should work harder or maybe do a few more chores at their ages, however between Cloud's scowl and Tifa's feisty demeanor no one would dare and the children had been allowed to grow in their own time.
It was for the best that neither of them seemed particularly gifted yet. No matter how fearsome the two proud parents were, little could keep the town gossips from spreading rumors of witchcraft and faeries.
"You know those boys won't get a thing done when they're together." Tifa sighed, shaking her head. "One always manages to find some way to distract the other." This caused Cloud to laugh. It was true, when the two were together they always managed to find a way to play or quarrel.
"Wonderful, I'll be plowing and harvesting alone until I die." He said gravely. Tifa chuckled softly, reaching to grasp her husband's hand.
"They're only children. When they're men I bet they'll be doing all the work for you." Rising from her chair she placed a kiss on her husband's forehead before returning to attend her work in the kitchen. It was nearly time for supper.
Once the family had eaten and the boys had helped their mother tidy up the kitchen, it was time for a story, as it was every night at this time.
Tifa always had a captivating tale to tell her children, and the two boys always listened with utter adulation. Sitting in her chair by the fire, she waited for the rest of her family to join her, her embroidery settled in a soft heap in her lap. Finally when everyone was in their place, her husband in the chair beside her and the two boys sitting cross legged in front of the fire, she decided to start
"Have either of you heard of the sleeping princess?" She began, watching both children fervently shake their heads no. Leaning forward, she began her tale in full.
"In the kingdom just north of here a King, who had waited many long and sad years, was blessed with a daughter. It was said that even as a babe she was more beautiful than the sunrise, the sunset, all four seasons, and the crystal blue oceans of the west combined." Little eyes widened in awe, for neither child could imagine something as beautiful as all of these lovely things. Tifa continued.
"So overjoyed was he that he decided to throw a banquet of celebration at once. Everyone in the land was invited, the nobles and the common folk alike. Even the fae were welcome. Only one person was forbidden to come."
"Who was forbidden to come?" Roxas asked, clinging to his mother's skirts. Tifa smiled, delighted as she always was that her children enjoyed her tales.
"There was one fairy, mean and spiteful as she was lovely. This fairy had a temper, and was known all throughout the land for her terrible and powerful hexes. The king didn't want such a wicked fairy in his presence and refused her an invitation." As she spoke she deftly wove the needle and thread in and out of the fine cloth in her lap.
"Was she mad?" Sora asked.
"Oh, very mad." Tifa replied. "So mad that as everyone was celebrating the Princess, she appeared before them in a billow of pitch black smoke." Sora leaned closer to his brother apprehensively.
"'I see all the nobleman in the land are here.' she said." Tifa's voice echoed through the house as she cried the fairy's words thunderously. "'I see all the commoners in the land are here.' she said. 'I even see that all the fae in the land of here, so why then wasn't I invited?'" The two boys looked fearful now, Sora gripping Roxas' arm for comfort. Their mother was very good at telling stories. It was always a theatrical affair.
"Without even bothering to let the king explain himself the fairy screamed in her rage. 'I curse you, and I curse your kingdom! I curse until I can curse no more, and even then may my curse spread. On the day this child turns fifteen she will prick her finger on the spindle of a spinning wheel and sleep an endless sleep. I mourn your loss knowing your child will live as nothing but a pretty doll.' The king and queen wept, but as were the laws of magic, every spell can be broken." The terror and sadness on the boys' faces eased slightly, causing Tifa to smile. She didn't want to traumatize her sons.
"What breaks the spell?" Roxas asked, almost feeling a sense of urgency. "If every spell can be broken what breaks this one?"
"Some say a kiss will wake the sleeping princess." She pursed her lips in thought. "I've never woken a sleeping princess before. I would not know the true way." She smiled wryly. "Some say the kiss must be out of love, others that the very act alone is enough, for the travel to the Castle in which she sleeps is very treacherous. The fairy was so angry, it is said, she put hexes and spells all through the forest surrounding it, and surrounded it with of thorny briar bushes." The children's eyes widened. It was hard to imagine a being that powerful and that mad.
Roxas, who was particularly taken with this tale, was still insistent on getting answers.
"Will anyone be able to break it? She will wake up one day, won't she?" He was dreadfully upset by the idea of being cursed to sleep forever. Would one have bad dreams or no dreams at all? What if one had a nightmare, they wouldn't be able to wake up so how would the nightmare come to an end?
"I'm sure some brave prince will rescue her. It is a prince's duty after all." She smiled. Reaching down, she placed a hand on each boy's head, combing loving fingers through their hair.
"Perhaps you could do it, Roxas." Sora tugged at his sleeve insistently. "You were brave today, you went into the forest all by yourself."
Roxas was about to deny his bravery when he saw his mother freeze, a look of horror on her face.
"You must never go into the forest." She warned, gripping his arms tightly. "It is where the fairies reside. They say a terrible beast resides within, devouring any traveler who dares enter. The beast and the fairies keep anyone and anything out so the princess may never awaken." The look in her eyes was stern and anxious, her grip tightening almost painfully. "You must promise your mother you will never venture there, would you do that for me?" Her face was serious but her voice was pleading and almost fearful in a way the two had never heard before. "Promise me you will never enter the forest again."
Both children nodded and the woman sighed, releasing her vice tight grip on Roxas' arms.
"Well, that's enough excitement for tonight." She leaned in, giving them each a kiss on the cheek. They were soon sent off to bed with visions of fairies and lovely princesses in their heads, their distress over the story and their mother's reaction fading like the last few crackling embers in the fire.
Tifa told many stories, for she knew many and was imaginative enough to concoct her own or twist existing ones into dramatic, enchanting affairs. This tale was only one of many, but none knew that this one tale in particular would linger and return to claim its worth in words.
Note: Thank you for reading. Those who read the previous version will notice some differences, I hope they are for the better Also you can find Claude on instagram under the name CloudCastor, please check them out.