King Leon was a year old when his twin sister was cursed.

He remembered the lonesome days in the castle, time spent alone with tutors or guards. He could remember the terror in the eyes of his parents as they found spindles or needles. He could remember a beautiful enchantress disguised as a kindly old woman who brought his sister to the castle once a year on their birthday, and the joy he found in her visits. He remembered also her absence when he woke in the mornings to the sound of his parents weeping.

The curse was meant to be a sleep-like death, wrought by a Witch jealous that she hadn't been chosen as a godmother for either of the twins. Thankfully their true godmother had shifted it just enough, just a little, enough for the curse to become a death-like sleep were it not broken before her sixteenth birthday.

It wasn't.

He remembered the terror of seeing his sister suddenly collapse in the courtyard on their sixteenth birthday, a slim, silver needle dug deep into her finger. He had carried her body into the castle, bemoaning her icy skin and the lack of color in her fair cheeks. He'd sat with her for months, praying and petrified, until a young Prince from a neighboring kingdom woke her.

When it was his turn to take the crown, he took it and fled to an island in the sea. His queen was a quiet, sickly woman from the Southern Lands who claimed the fresh sea air would do her well. Together they chose a careful assortment of servants without ties of any sort to magic. Their servants and cooks barely even believed in magic, let alone knew of anyone affected. The island was large enough for a port, the castle, and a small village between them. The sea people were practical in all things, and when there was only a quiet announcement of the birth of the Princess rather than a ball in her honor, everyone was more than happy with it.

Even though a curse remained far from his lands against his Princess, for his Queen he was helpless to stop the sickness that had always plagued her. His lovely Ariella was barely walking when her mother breathed her last and was laid to rest on the cliffs. She would never know the loss of her mother, for she hadn't known her. When she learned to swim before she could read, it was out of practicality rather than pleasure. She didn't know the fear of a curse or joy of a blessing, because magic was not something meant for her.

Or so everyone thought...


And so begins the story of The Little Mermaid. I want to let you know ahead of time, but this will be different than even my others. I'm taking Disney's and Hans Christian Anderson's Little Mermaid. This one will be a little...different. I hope you still enjoy it!