Here begin my tales from the Grimms. I take their words, and I spin new tales from their depths. For a fairytale mustn't always have a happy ending, and a darkened tale mustn't always end darkly. So basically I'm gonna take Brothers Grimm fairytales and rewrite them to be even less happily-ever-after, or to have a happy ending, but just be different.

The Darkened Raven, a retelling of The Golden Bird

In a secluded garden in wealthy and well-off kingdom there grew a tree of silver apples, the most pure, most valuable fruit any tree could ever bear. A symbol of light, they were made to be, but alas, man warped their purpose to gain wealth. Now, this tree of silver apples was off limits to the people, lest their blood turn cold with greed.

On night, however, the ripest, largest silver apple was taken from the highest bough of the tree. The king, outraged, decreed that a guard should be set to watch the tree, and any man caught lusting for the silver fruit should be put to death.

And so the gardener put in place his youngest son beneath the tree. The son watched alertly until the moon was high and bright, at which point his mind began to wander and his eyes became heavy with longing for sleep. When his eyes did close, a rustling sounded overhead, and the son jerked awake.

A raven tugged at the apple which caught the moonlight best. "Away, foul creature, or thee shall feel the sting of an arrow," the son cried, trying to frighten the bird.

"No, not I. It is you who shall feel the sting," cawed the raven. With that, he pulled the apple free and dropped it upon the son's head and left him to die. The raven then removed the apple from the area of the corpse and fled to the north.

The very next morning, when the dew was still glinting on the surface of the leaves, the gardener came across the body of his last born son. The gardener openly wept. "My son, my child, a fool you have made of yourself and your family," the gardener cried. When the king heard of this death, the apples were counted, and the gardener was brought before the king.

"Your son has failed, and an apple is missing," the king chided. "You will provide your next son as watch or you shall die the same."

And so, the gardener provided his second son, and the young man was set in place to watch the tree.

Again, the son watched, until the moonlight shone highest. The raven returned and once again began to tug at the purest apple. "Foul bird, I will kill you, for you have caused my brother's demise!" cried the second son.

"No, not I. I shalt not die. I shall have your eyes as prizes." With that, the evil bird killed the son in the same manner as he had killed the first, and took the son's eyes. One, he left in the tree, in place of the purest apple. The other, he flew away with to the north.

When the gardener saw the defiled body of his second son, he wept once more. "My son, my child, you have made me a fool," he cried. When the king heard of the second death, he called the gardener to him once more.

"You have failed me again. You will offer your third son, or you shall die as well," the king said. And the gardener fell upon his knees.

"My lord, my king, let me guard the tree instead. Many a son I have lost to this quest," the gardener pleaded. And permission was granted, and the gardener sat that night below the tree to watch and wait.

When the moon shone once again at its highest, the raven returned, with the eye of the second son clutched in his talon. "Your sons have failed, and lost to me. The cat, killed by the mouse," he crowed.

"I shall fail not, I'll take your life, and I'll win back the honor of my family," said the gardener.

"No, not I. I shalt not die. You shall follow your sons to the grave," said the raven, and he gave a wheezing laugh. So the gardener raised his bow and shot. His aim failed and his arrow pierced only the center of his second son's eye. The gardener fell down and wept.

"Why do you cry so, troublesome fellow? I care not for such noise," the raven said.

"I shot the eye of my second son, and in doing so, dishonored his death."

"Was it not you who called him a fool? You are a wicked and folly man, gardener," the raven mocked.

"I volunteered for this quest in the stead of my third son!" the gardener cried.

"You did so for your family's honor. Come now, do not weep. Take an apple from the tree, and you shall restore your family, sons and all," said the raven.

The gardener was foolish, and so he stood, reached up, and picked from the tree. What his hand came away with was not an apple, but the eye of his son, glazed and dead. The gardener shrieked and dropped the eye, but the darkness of the kill had already invaded his heart. The raven led him away north, where the gardener worked as a servant of the bird.

The gardener's third son watched over the tree for all the days to come, and never did his watch fail. The raven did not return, for he had gotten what he wanted.