This little hook was part of a dare from a friend of mine.
GRIMM
It all began with five words.
"May I become your apprentice?"
And yet, those five words
Echoed through the lands. Forever changing them
For fate, would never be the same.
It was faster than any could have imagined: Jafar, long-time advisor of the Sultan, threw a bloody insurrection, wielding unholy powers of destruction. The Sultan, unprepared for the assault, was ripped apart by powers beyond his comprehension.
It took three days for the city to fall.
And thus began the reign of darkness.
With unheard of speed, Jafar's grasp spread outwards, first on foot, then on sea, washing across the land like a black tide. City by city, they trampled underfoot the masses, erecting statues and brands in their wake.
Yet, not all was lost.
Atlantica, the City Beneath The Waves, had hastily become a haven. At the urging of Ariel, the youngest of the heirs of Atlantis, they had taken in as many of the surface dwellers as they could, protecting the innocent and the free to the best of their abilities. Although restricted to what few buildings could be constructed to remain dry inside, the surface dwellers thrived to the best of their ability, dreaming of the day when they truly could see the sun again.
Arendelle was deceptively difficult to overrun. Although the marauders were successful in the assassination of the royal family, they failed to truly overrun the country: the royal family survived through a pair of sisters. For two years, the invading army struggled against the cold and the devoted soldiers of the city, before a freak accident incited the first spark of hope the city had seen in years.
Elsa, crown princess of Arendelle, was a mage. A mage of significant power.
Now fifteen, the strong-willed princess did her best to fortify her home with what little magic she could invoke, but she could not truly stem the tide.
With heavy hearts, the people of Arendelle fled across the water to their cousin country, Corona. There, they swore their allegiance to Mother Gothel, the reigning archmage of the country, and did what they could to help protect their new home.
For five years, they have stood. For five years, they have prospered, bolstered by the magic of not only Gothel and Elsa, but also of Rapunzel, a young mage who came forward, once the harbour blockades had begun to cut into the country's meagre supplies.
A little town in France had also stood the tide far longer than expected. Although merely considered a speed bump in the path of the legion, they were halted by an unexpected complication.
The cursed prince of the town, who had long since forgotten his name, stood proud and protective in front of his people, determined to defend to the best of his ability. For four days, he stood alone, weathering the tide, before he was joined by an unlikely partner, one Gaston. Drawn to his side by a mutual hatred of magic, and people invading their town, the two held off the invading forces long enough for every civilian to flee. Then, in a final act of good faith, the duo fled into the countryside, determined to find allies to stand with them.
To protect what few innocents still remained.
Even the deep seas were not safe: a sabotage fleet lead by hired Mercenary Hooke successfully captured an artifact by the name of 'The Heart of Te Fiti'. Over the next few months, the islands began to die. With no idea of where the artifact had went, the people of the archipelago began to die out. In a final act of desperation, Moana, orphaned Chieftess, led what few people across the ocean to the mainland.
They were closely followed by Maui, the disgraced Demigod. Having failed his duty once, his eyes turned to the fleeing natives. He had failed once, but he knew he could not afford to fail once more.
China's army stood the onslaught quite effectively. But even they could not survive unchanged.
The emperor's new decree demanded the conscription of every able-bodied man and woman, an hitherto unthinkable choice. The people cried out in despair, but the emperor remained adamant. If they were wiped out, there would be nothing left to protect.
Mulan, a veteran of several battles, was one of the elite few who had survived unscathed. Chosen due to her talents, she was whisked away to what few masters still taught their craft, to learn the ways of the Sohei.
Even as the world below roiled in hatred, the Gods above were squabbling with their own problems. Hades, God of the Underworld, had finally overstepped his bounds, and had begun to encroach on the domain of Hephaestus, god of Fire. The resulting clash left the gates of the Underworld open, and and guarded. Unspeakable creatures continued to escape, turning their eyes upon the fragile world above.
Eris, goddess of Chaos, on the other hand, was busy making popcorn.
Heracles, son of Zeus, was deployed to the surface, to protect the mortals to the best of his abilities.
He merely took one look at the world below, and asked if he couldn't wrestle a hydra instead.
Scotland's once-beautiful forests had long since become a warzone. Several talented archers had taken to using the dense tree cover to make ambush attacks upon the invading army, but this was soon countered by burning trees. As casualties continued to mount, the Scotts were eventually driven from their homeland, taking what little of their culture still remained with them.
In the dungeons of Agrahbah, capital city of the new Empire, one traitor, Aladdin, lies bound.
He had been captured for freeing slaves, for sabotaging supply carts.
And he had been thrown into the dungeon over a month ago. Fed nothing but thin soup and bread.
His eyes adjusted slowly as the door opened, revealing his captor.
Clad in dark armor, the Hand of Jafar approached him, blackened scimitar gleaming in the dim light.
"So you believe yourself a hero, do you, street rat?" whispered the monster before him.
Aladdin had no words left, so he merely spat into his captor's eye.
"And yet, you believe that a hero will win. That the light shall always prevail." it continued.
Once more, Aladdin attempted to spit, but found his mouth dry, his lips parched.
"But yet, what is a hero without a little conflict?"
Aladdin could feel his manacles tightening.
"But boy, let me tell you. A hero isn't merely one who overcomes the odds."
"Someone who succeeds, despite the entire world being turned against them?"
The Hand leaned closer.
"That isn't a hero."
The Hand's scimitar reached back, readying for a swing.
"That, my boy;"
The blade raced near.
"Is a Legend."
Seeing his chance, the rebel braced himself, throwing the chains which bound him before the approaching blade. With a sickening crunch and the clatter of metal against metal, the chains were sundered. Throwing himself into a dead run, he threw himself past the Hand, determined to get free.
The Hand merely watched the boy flee, his broken wrist moving against his will behind him. As the guards turned to him for orders, he merely spoke.
"Let him go. What is victory, without a little… entertainment."
And soon, the Hand had collapsed into laughter.