Six-year-old Harlow walked with great excitement and to an area where the island gathered for a one-of-a-kind event: a six-year-old princess's wickedly wonderful birthday party. Wicked being something of a relative term under a dome that houses a bunch of powerless former villains. In any event, a party it was. Dozens of the villain children from all over the island were running around the area, actually having fun as kids and not as villains in training.
It was the most magnificent celebration the isolated island and its banished citizens had ever seen, and tales of its gothic grandeur and obnoxious opulence would be told for years to come. The party to end all parties, this lavish occasion transformed the ramshackle bazaar and its rotting storefronts in the middle of the island into a spookily spectacular playground, full of ghostly lanterns and flickering candles.
Weeks before, a flock of vultures had circled the land, dropping invitations on every shabby doorstep and hovel so that every grubby little urchin from every corner of the island would be able to partake in this enchanting and extraordinary event.
"Harlow!" A little voice shouted, sounding excited. Harlow turned around to see Evie running towards her, smiling.
"Hey!" The two girls hug for a brief moment, less than a second, because hugging was seen as a sign of weakness, and weakness was something that was definitely frowned upon on the Isle.
Evie and Harlow talked for a few minutes before Evie walked away to go and get some of the old food from a table nearby.
Harlow looked up and saw her half-sister, Mal, looking down at everyone with a scowl on her face. She didn't know if she actually did receive an invitation or not, but couldn't care less if she was at the party or not. She looked up at the balcony where Mal stood, smirking before she went and grabbed a drink. Harlow and her sister didn't really have an actual sister relationship.
They shared a father, but had different mothers. No one on the island knew about the fact that they were sisters, except them and their parents, of course. Their father had walked away from Mal's mother when she was only a newborn, and soon after he began a relationship with another woman. Less than a year later, Harlow was born. They don't even think of each other as family. They only think of each other as two girls who just happened to share a father.
When they crossed paths, they wouldn't say a word to one another, only glare as if they wanted to murder the other. While Mal never believed in having friendships, believing they were for the soft and weak, Harlow, had many friends from all different parts of the Isle.
Mal was also jealous of the fact that Harlow had more people afraid of her than she did. While her mother was the self-made leader of the Isle and was probably the most feared villain, their father, Hades, was the Lord of the Dead and could destroy their souls when they died if he so chose to.
Harlow looked back up at Mal while she proceeded to have fun with all the other kids. She knew that all the fun would probably be making Mal's blood boil hotter then the fire of the Underworld but she enjoyed the thought of it.
Whether the fairy's invitation was lost to the winds and torn to tatters or devoured by the hungry buzzards themselves—or—gasp!—never even addressed in that looping royal scrawl, as was suspected, we will never know. But the result was the same.
Above the tumultuous bazaar, up high on her castle balcony, six-year-old Mal pulled on the locks of her thick, purple hair and pursed her lips as she observed the dark and delicious festivities below. What she could make of them, at least.
There she saw her half-sister and the tiny princess, the fairest of the (is) land, sitting on her rickety throne, her hair as blue as the ocean, eyes as dark as night, and lips as pink as roses. Her hair was pulled back from her face in a pretty V-braid, and she laughed in delight at the array of marvels before her. The princess possessed a darling giggle that was so entrancing, it brought a smile to haughty Lady Tremaine's face, she of the thwarted plans to marry her daughters to Prince Charming; the ferocious tiger Shere Khan was practically purring like a contented kitty; and for old times' sake, Captain Hook bravely stuck his head between Tick-Tock's open jaws, if only so he could make her laugh and hear that lovely peal again.
Harlow thought it was hilarious how all the villains who were always seen scowling and angry, were actually trying to make Evie smile and laugh. The princess, it would seem, could make even the most horrible villains smile.
But Mal wasn't smiling. She could practically smell the two-story cake made of sour apples, sinfully red and lusciously wormy; and try as she might, Mal couldn't help but overhear the screeches of the parrot Iago as he repeated, over and over again, the story of talking caves that held riches beyond measure, until the assembled villagers wanted to wring his feathered neck.
Every time Iago would squawk out something, Harlow would roll her eyes and mutter how much she wished she could just set the bird on fire. That was one of only two things the sisters mutually agreed on: the bird was so annoying...and the fact that they can't stand one another.
Mal sighed with green-eyed jealousy as the children gleefully tore into their baddie bags. The crumpled containers held a variety of evil sidekicks to choose from—pet baby moray eels akin to the slinky Flotsam and Jetsam swimming in tiny bowls; little spotted, cackling hyenas who were no quieter than the infamous Shenzi, Banzai, and Ed; pouncing and adorable black kittens from Lucifer's latest litter. Their badly behaved recipients screamed with excitement.
As the party escalated in feverish merriment, Mal's heart grew as black as her mood, and she swore that one day, she would show them all what it meant to be truly evil. She would grow up to be greedier than Mother Gothel, more selfish even than Cinderella's stepsisters, more cunning than Jafar, more deceptive than Ursula.
She would show them all that she was just like her—
"Mother!" she yelped, as the shadow of two looming and ominous horns made their way toward the balcony, and her mother appeared, her purple cape fluttering softly in the wind.
Her mother's voice was rich, melodious, and tinged with menace. "What is going on here?" she demanded as the children below tittered at the sight of a highly inappropriate shadow-puppet show mounted by the frightening Dr. Facilier.
"It's a birthday party," sniffed Mal. "And I wasn't invited."
"Is that right?" her mother asked. She peered at the celebration over Mal's shoulder, and they both took in the sight of the blue-haired princess giggling on a moth-eaten velvet pillow as Gaston's hairy and handsome young twin sons, Gaston Jr. and Gaston the Third, performed feats of strength—largely balancing their enormous booted feet on each other's squashed faces—to impress her. From the sound of things, it was working.
Harlow did some contortion/acrobatic tricks in order to one-up the two older boys. She silently wished her Underworld powers worked at that moment, because she would set them both ablaze quicker than you will blink your eyes. Those two were just all brawn and no brain, just like their dad.
Like father, like sons. Harlow thought to herself.
Harlow looked up in time to see Maleficent step to the balcony's edge, where she could see out to the whole island all the way to the sparkling lights of Auradon. She raised herself to her full height as thunder and lightning cracked and boomed and rain began to pour from the heavens. Since there was no magic on the island, this was just wickedly good coincidence. The party came to a halt, and the gathered citizens were paralyzed at the sight of their leader glaring down at them with the full force of her wrath.
"This celebration is over!" Mal's mother declared. "Now, shoo, flee, and scatter, like the little fleas you are! And you! Evil Queen and your daughter! From now on, you are dead to the entire island! You do not exist! You are nothing! Never show your faces anywhere ever again! Or else!"
Just as quickly as it had gathered, the group dispersed, under the wary eye of Maleficent's frightening henchmen, the boar-like guards wearing aviator caps pulled down low over their hooded eyes. Mal caught a last glimpse of the blue-haired princess looking fearfully up at the balcony before being whisked away by her equally terrified mother.
Mal's eyes glittered with triumph, her dark hearts were glad that her misery had caused such wondrous maleficence.
Harlow was nearly trampled by the retreating crowd before she suddenly felt someone grab her wrist. She didn't even pay attention as to who had grabbed her before she was pulled away and into an empty alley. She had to put her hands on her knees an catch her breath before she was able to stand up straight again.
But by the time she stood back up, the person was gone. For some reason, Harlow could smell eggs when the person was dragging her, but she didn't know why. After the chaos had died down, she walked back to the cave where she lived with her father.