The legend told of a creature stealing children in the night. Word was it was evil personified. It played a tune on its flute every full moon, enchanting young ones from their beds. There were accounts of men who heard the lively song and saw children sleepwalking to its rhythm. Some even claimed they saw the creature prancing with its flute, children trailing not far behind. Whether or not they were true, the tales have the same ending: the children were never found. When this misfortune befell a poor village, desperate parents did everything to find their missing broods, but it was all in vain.
Like in most stories, a hero came to the rescue of these poor villagers. The hero was a woman who claimed that she could locate the lost children. In return for her service, the woman asked for gold, a payment that was too steep and beyond the parents' means, so the children remained missing.
Reports of lost children came and went like the tide. With time, it became a household tale to prevent the young ones from escaping into the night for a taste of youthful folly. The legend was almost forgotten until a similar incident happened in a quiet village.
Red Village was so-called due to its red soil. It gave the village a picturesque look during dusk and dawn. Travellers flocked to the village and paid handsomely for this beatific view. Tourism flourished and residents of Red Village lived a well-off life from the profit made. When news of missing children befell a neighbouring village, terrified Red villagers tied their young to their beds. Parents kept watch over their precious sons and daughters every nightfall—convinced the almost forgotten monster was real.
On the fourth night, deprived of sleep, the parents snored softly next to their children as a tune carried through the air.
The next morning the village was in an uproar. Half of the children were gone. Worried parents banded together and spread news of their willingness to pay in gold to whoever found the children. Like in the stories, a mysterious woman appeared in the village and offered assistance, for a price. Claiming herself a demon catcher and a powerful sorceress, she told them she could retrieve the missing children. Desperate, the villagers made a deal with her. In return for her service, they were to give her five bags of gold.
The following night a familiar melody once again enveloped the village. The demon catcher used magic to transform herself into a little girl. She took with her a glass vial, claiming it will be used to catch the demon, before following the enchanted children. The villagers only saw her two days later, sniffling children trotted quietly behind her and a black glass vial clutched in her right hand.
There was much joy from the parents as they embraced their offspring. They thanked the woman and gave her the bags of gold. Seeing two bags instead of the promised five, the woman lashed out and demanded them to meet their end of the deal. When they refused, she transformed her vial into a flute before shape shifting into a dark creature.
Fear and surprise mingled in the air as the children hid behind their parents, screaming that the dark creature was the one holding them captive. The creature unleashed destruction on the village, sending men, women, and children scampering for safety. Those who were weak and slow were devoured by her magic before they turned into ashes.
Few survived.
That was the first record that told of the creature's power. In the centuries that followed, travellers told tales of missing children and of charred villages and kingdoms. Some never knew the exact cause but they all share a pivotal character: a female dealmaker. And Rumpelstiltskin wanted power over this immortal being the stories called the Dark One. The storyteller had just given him his wish.
The world is governed by rules…
Everything needs to be balanced…
Everything has its limits…
Nothing comes freely…
If they do, then the price might already have been paid…
Those were the words from the Dark One before Rumpelstiltskin gave her his first order. The Dark One, who turned out to be a dark and beautiful woman, told him that her magic was no exception. It cannot break three rules: bring back the dead, force someone to fall in love, and change the past. And like the laws of the world, her magic comes with a price. She knew not in what form except that it would be collected when the time was right. Learning this, the king was cautious in his commands and his plans came to fruition slower than he envisioned. Better safe than sorry as they said. Over time, seeing no consequences from his requests, the king became emboldened and forgot about the price of magic.
What would take years to accomplish, the Dark One was able to realise it in months. The creature was everything he had hoped and his to command. The king controlled the Dark One through a dagger that was created along with her. It gave him authority over her and she was bound to fulfil his every whim as long as he wielded it.
Crazed in exercising the immense power, Rumpelstiltskin further ordered the creature to expand his kingdom. Nothing could placate his hunger. He wanted to be feared and known across the land and leave imprints of his triumph. As a result, kingdoms were destroyed and enemies smote down.
Mathilda, who was oblivious to these changes, was occupied in another realm. Reinvigorated by the king's soul, she traversed the world looking for more souls to consume. Failing to find anyone as desperate as Rumpelstiltskin, she dourly returned home.
At the first pinprick of a powerful dark magic, her body grew cold. Her magic prickled her skin, protecting her from the unknown power. With dread, she scrambled in search of her mirror, furious with herself at her negligence. Mirror in hand, her heart dropped at the image of an auburn-haired woman. She had heard the king had bought a stunning slave before she left, but never gave thought to it thinking it was a harmless purchase. Obviously, she was wrong.
The fairy gathered what little information she could in the tight-lipped society of Rumpelstiltskin's kingdom. He finally became what he had set out to do, be feared and powerful. Sorting through the wild stories was a chore, but two consistent facts stood out in the sea of rumours: the king purchased a slave and he created the Dark One. Mathilda wondered if they were one and the same.
It was in the middle of the king's conquest when the fairy confronted Rumpelstiltskin on his new acquisition. She wanted to know how he attained the Dark One, a creature that exists only in children's tales. Her interrogations came with a warning that it would be his undoing. The king however, was quite aggravated when questioned. He evaded her queries and sneered at every attempt made. That was until she shoved her glowing mirror at him. She was beside herself when he waved lazily at the image in her mirror.
"Aww, does the wee fairy fear a hapless maid?" he said in a singsong voice, clapping his hands like an exuberant child. The fairy could feel the last thread of her patience slipping when he wiped away invisible tears. "You're worrying over nothing, Mathilda. She's not the Dark One and most assuredly not a threat to either of us."
"You know this woman, then? Who is she?"
"Questions, questions, questions... so many questions from such a tiny person," he twittered, only to stop his evasions when the fairy made it clear her curiosity could not be mollified. "She's my slave, I doubt that qualifies as a threat. I think your mirror's broken."
"You know that's not possible. The mirror never lies."
"There's a first for everything, dearie," Rumpelstiltskin said in derision. "It's obvious your mirror has lost its magic."
"No it does not," the fairy growled, causing the king to raise an eyebrow. "Even if she's not the Dark One she must be of a greater threat for the mirror to show her instead. Everyone lives beneath a mask, Rumpelstiltskin. You should know that better than most. This woman could be a cutthroat for all you know. Do you want to see all you built crumble? Have you forgotten what happened the last time you brought a stranger to your castle? He ran off with your wife—"
The king was quite agile for a scrawny man. In an instant, he had a hand around her throat, making her heart beat wildly like a caged humming bird. "I tire of your ramblings, Mathilda. When I say she is of no concern, I meant it. She is bound to me and only I can command her. The storyteller is not a threat to either of us. She's as bound to me as the Dark One is to her dagger," he said. "Leave me before you regret it!"
Mathilda stumbled when the king shoved her. If looks could kill, Rumpelstiltskin's glare could have ended her then and there. Infuriated over his treatment, she let her temper loose, her tongue followed soon after. She let it slip that she'll destroy the storyteller. Furious, the Dark One was summoned. Seeing the legendary creature appear in the flesh momentarily stunned her. At the king's command, Mathilda felt the Dark One's magic flowed through her, forbidding her entry to his kingdom. With her hands bound, she decided to bid her time until an opportunity to strike rose.