One of the classic fairy tales told about a beautiful young maiden, the fairest one of all who lived in a small village. A beauty that could make any male fall for her in an instant—in a mere second—and any female drowned in their own jealousy which eventually turned into a disdainful effort. Scathingly rumors they spread, sullying the name carried by the young maiden and polluting her charming figure the gods created, thus giving birth to another clandestine scheme that was to seduce her into an undying death. Using an apple bathed in a 'sleeping' potion, placing it among the healthy fresh apples… the beautiful young maiden fell into artificial sincerity.
A funeral ceremony was then held. Keeners from across the village attended this mournful moment while playing the melancholy melodies that accompanied a Pavane for a Dead Princess. After bathing the undecayed body of the beautiful maiden among the chrysanthemum, one fancy-looking sarcophagus was then prepared. This last resting bed was built mainly from glass that covered the young maiden's body so that the underworld creatures might find it hard to drag and damage such a beauty in their harsh world. Hence the prayer was then delivered to the people of the skies, begging to the gods to ascend the beautiful maiden into their Garden of Eden.
Therefore, one of the prominent mourners whose hair glowed bright blonde and whose eyes sparkled blue-skies tears of sorrow, a prince from a far land kingdom who attended the ceremony then voiced his one egocentric plea, for once he wanted to give his last kiss for the beautiful maiden. Sure, this would only bring him long-run havoc, inevitable derisions, and maybe a declaration of local rebellion for she was a beautiful flower of the village whom they durst not to touch, yet they miraculously permitted it… they allowed a prince to give a last kiss to their flower for they believed she deserved it. Of the village's youths, only the prince was worthy enough to pick such a flower, for a happy life was guaranteed if only there was any breath left inside her breast.
Any living females who witnessed it had their envious bigger, seeing they still lost to even a cold and stiff cadaver… like there were no any female left in this world. Yet felt satisfied they still no matter what, for that beautiful face would go perish, devoured by the dirt of the mortal world. And by time, any pictures of her, inside the mind of the maschulines would end up with the same fate as her. Little did they know, however, the so-called sleepy curse of theirs would eventually betray them.
When the warm and moist lips of the prince touched the dry, cold-as-ice lips of the beautiful maiden… an unexpected reaction was then noticed and felt by the princes. Feeling a partial life force of the prince being sucked through the kiss, warm air was then coming out from her nose, striking the prince's white face. The jade eyes of hers slowly opened just to see the prince's wide-opened eyes out of shock at this mind-blowing enigma. The reborn young maiden naturally gasped, knowing how close her face with the prince's face let alone after realizing that their lips were touching each other. Her face abruptly blushed, indicating thermal energy of metabolism within herself somehow had returned and worked as it should be. Her throbbing heartbeats were visibly heard, and diffidence became even more apparent as a result. Yet it just vanished immediately when she noticed constant tears, dropping like a waterfall through the prince's blue-skies eyes down his cheeks. After a tight hug she received from the prince, she finally understood the whole thing… the reason why she was inside the glass coffin, the reason why all the villagers were gathering around the said coffin, and the reason why the tears of joy wouldn't soon subside for now.
It was death—she tasted the taste of death. And that death brought her a sudden marriage proposal from a figure whom she has adored for a long time. The male inhabitant blessed the couple, for they knew it was the prince's kiss which has restored the withered flower, leaving the females speechless, in unbearable anguish that led into a broken heart state. Only left with a suicide option or eventually being captured by kingdom authority for their crimes.
No matter what fate may be waiting for them, it was a happy ending nonetheless, for the beautiful young maiden, for all of her dreams had come true.
Or was it?
The beautiful yet cruel reality always had funny ways to twist that sugar-life fairy tale, and no… it was no a lovely happy sugar tale.
"You already know?"
Just like a campfire story where the listeners and a storyteller were sitting around the warmness of the firewood while scenting the distinctive burnt aroma of Cedar or Pine without any sap in it.
"Partially."
Rather than a heart-warming narrative that was about to tell, this one however, brought a sense of phobia to the storyteller, a middle-aged man, a chief of Kasala Village as well as a single parent for one and only son. His mind uncontrollably tried to dig up the past memories he desired to bury deeply into his unconscious, away from the gray matter of the brain. Yet the subject matter was already beyond his control, as his old emotions began to surface along with heart-tearing memories of his.
"I do not ask you to tell the whole thing, Chief Jovier." noticing many micro-expression changes happening on the chief's facial face, the curious one-horned girl spoke up, empathizing and understanding the reason why he was reluctant to tell the whole red thread, "So please do not push yourself to remember such memories." yet only a partial she heard, she could see the big picture of the worst case scenario. So it wasn't a priority to know what happened to the chief's daughter.
"No, Miss Erynew. I have to…" Chief Jovier however insisted on telling, ignoring all emotion he may felt when the memories were revealed, "You saved my people and our village, and to redeem my fault for dragging you into this mess, you have the right to know."
Ergo, another variety of fairy tales began to unfold, the variety of which real life's truth took responsibility for twisting the flow,
It went the same way as the classical fairy tale with the existence of a young beautiful maiden living in a small village. Gisalda was the name of the young maiden, the daughter of the village's leader. Her appearance may be less alluring than the maiden from the well-known fairy tale, with average body stature, average height and weight yet very healthy golden brown eyes despite not living in the upper-class division. It was all thanks to the fresh crops which were harvested directly from the humble premises and such a happy sugar life she lived in this unpretentious ambiance.
She liked to keep her dark hair short, at least not exceed her shoulders… her reason being it would make her adored and treasured by the villagers in which she lived on, rather than using her femininity as an ultimate weapon to receive admiration from those outsiders—it was her hard-working friendly nature and kindness. And that was what made her beauty twice as much as the young maiden from the classic fairy tale.
All of those past tales of the young maiden of Kasala Village were told directly from the mouth of her father, chief of the said village. Erynew, the only listener, listened to the whole tales closely, her concerned gaze was paying attention to any single micro-expression change from the chief's face and right after that, the said micro-expression change was detected… and it was not a gleeful one,
It was like the sweet world wanted to become a lie to him,
"It happened all of a sudden." the chief continued his grief memories, "By pushing ourselves away from political grip and war, we thought we had a peaceful life to live. But instead, it was lethal for us."
Watching his lips moving slowly, telling a heart-rending story with difficulty around this hardly-called a little campfire, Erynew reduced the number of eyes blinks thus allowing her to create more deep connections and emotions both with the village's chief and whatever happened to his daughter. Judging from an expression change though, it's an agonizing story the chief was about to continue.
"Just like you've heard from Reya, half a year ago right before the summer harvesting, a band of bastards attacked our village. It happened often and with the manpower we had at that time, we should've encountered no problem. But full steel-armed bastards that led by the wielder of magical equipment – we had zero chance to win, let alone to defend our village. They plundered our farm, stole our supply, and worst of all… they forced us to 'give' one of a young maiden of our own, as an 'offering' they said and as their reasons to not just kill all of us—or whatever the hell that meant. But of course, the chosen young maiden rebelled stubbornly. I couldn't blame her, because I knew what fate waited for her when that group of sadism brought her to their hideout. But my daughter being my daughter, my own daughter, Gisalda, stepped forward and willingly offered herself to such a group in exchange for the young maiden's freedom, even though she knew what would happen to her mind and body. Not only me who disagreed with her decision, in fact the entire villagers thought the same because she was the treasure we always tried to protect, but in reality no one spoke up for her… not even me her father. I couldn't risk protesting because I knew nothing about what would happen to my people if I did, and so I did nothing. It was Gizado instead, her younger brother who objected to the steel-armed bastards. Boldly tried to stop them from taking his sister, and he almost got hit by a steel fist on the head if only his older sister hadn't protected him by jumping in between. At that moment, as their father, I didn't know I was supposed to be proudly raising such brave kids with full a sense of justice, or to fell guilty for I couldn't protect them. And I guess as Time goes by, the latter was—IS—what I feel… even till today. No wonder Gizado hates his father, huh?"
Chief Jovier stopped for a moment, deeply inhaling air filled a particle spark of firepit before him because henceforth he would tell the part that made his voice even heavier to let out, and his breath became even shorter. Though it was hard for him to continue, Erynew didn't want to intervene within his deep memories. She respected his decision to tell such a hellish story by not feeling pity toward him, at least for now, and listening further to a story Reya refused to tell.
"Feeling their luck ran out, many families moved to the nearby town to find another dwellings, leaving only eight small families because they have nowhere to go besides this village. The deal we made with them was simple, grow crops for an 'offering' and before winter they would come again, if our offering couldn't please them, what negative reward would we receive? We tried to look for help from outsiders, the kingdom authority, mercenaries and headhunters, but the effort proved to be nil. The kingdom authority was only there to say 'yes' without further action because of the approaching war, mercenaries and headhunters having their heads chopped off… leaving the only solution was to simply obey them."
Chief Jovier once again took a short rest and inhaled another spark of fire from the dim firepit before him. His mind was regaining countless images of memories about what happened next… images he dared not to remember or touch… images of the lifeless body of a young beautiful maiden, as well as recovering his sentiment into a calm state. Unlike the beautiful classic fairy tale however, there was no fancy glass coffin, no nice-looking blue-eyed prince, and no miracle that could bring the maiden back to life from a mere kiss… the cause of death was also more grievous than simply sleepy poison.
"About two months ago, by the river, Gizado found his sister… at least what left of hers." the chief slowly continued his story which turned into an unexpected plot twist even for someone like Erynew. Not because the young maiden was found dead, but more the cause of her death which was evidently much more gruesome than she anticipated, "Inside a burlap sack the size of an adult human, half-emaciated body of my daughter was found. Bruises almost on all of her body, but more severe on her face, forehead, nape of the neck, shoulders, and chest… and more on her bottom, thigh, and legs… fractured rib and arms, dislocated jaw, hip, and a few of her fingers… the rest of her finger bones were crushed and only a wither skin left. Not only physically abused, but also she apparently was being harmed… in an obscene manner. A strong odor of… males… covered her body that stung the noses, and her lowers were bleeding from white viscous liquid. Because of that, we also noticed that her stomach was a little bit swollen, when we looked at it more carefully, it was from her womb… her swollen stomach was caused by the early stages of pregnancy… that contained a dead fetus. And to made matters worse, her body was still warm when we found her, indicating that she just died not long before."
Exhaling is what Chief Jovier did this time, after managing to go through memories of horror and being able to tell the whole story. Blowing all of those fire sparks at Erynew who was at a loss for words. Careful observation became unnecessary for her, for the expression change on the chief's face was so clear… as clear as crystal.
"If only… if only we found her earlier, we could've saved her and her unborn child. If only I had become more of a dependable father she wouldn't have walked through that hellish experience. Why did she have to rest in such a horrific way, even though she was a good girl loved by many?"
Chief Jovier continued to end this one fiendish story. And with that statement alone, Erynew could perceive a strong gloomy disappointment. The silent scream of a father who lived the rest of his life with feelings of guilt, a grave sin he should bear, a distressed son he should raise, and a desperate village he should protect.
The real fairy tale was always about a tale twisted into a bitter sugar ending in this sweet, full of lies and truthful reality…