My parents told me about the curse when I was five years old. A witch had come to my naming ceremony saying that they'd received a vision from the gods. She was beautiful, but her clothes were ragged and her hair was unbraided. The guards tried to escort her away, but my parents thought she could be bringing a good omen.
The witch said that I would be a great and terrible beauty, a queen that would set the world on fire; and so, to prevent this tragedy, I must be killed. At first, my father laughed, believing that she was mad. Only when she unleashed her powers did they realize… They begged for my life, hoping that they could change the witch's mind. Moved by their love, she showed compassion. Instead of being killed then and there, I was cursed. At the age of 16, I would prick my finger on a spindle wheel and die. My mother, despite having witnessed the witch's power, refused to accept this.
From the time I could speak, I was given the best tutors money could buy to teach me economics, politics, philosophy, and the best ways to run a kingdom. When I was five, I began training with the best warriors in the world to learn self-discipline in my actions and emotions. Every week, my family and I would go out into the surrounding villages to offer aid to anyone needing it, and every summer we would travel the countryside to do the same. My parents had hoped that these things would make me generous, compassionate, and kind. Everyone whispered that the vision the witch had couldn't be true, or that my parents had altered my course by doing all of these things. I secretly hoped they were right.
On my 16th birthday, my parents barred the castle doors, doubled the guard, and lifted the drawbridge. Although we knew that these measures would do nothing against magic, it felt better than simply waiting. We all gathered in my mother's chambers, trying to occupy ourselves. My mother knitted by the fire, while my father stood by the window that overlooked the castle entrance.
"Don't worry, Aurora," my father said, not turning away from the window. His once chestnut hair was now entirely grey. "No one can get into the castle today. You're safe." I wanted to believe him, but as darkness crept into the sky I began to feel the gnawing sensation of fear. It started as a shiver down my spine, until it ravaged my body into shakes. I lay on the floor both aware and unaware of my family as I gasped for air. "Aurora!" my brothers shouted as my father shook me. "Aurora!"
That's when I saw her, the witch. She stood in the corner of the room, breathtaking and still. Her face was pale as moonlight, with lips red like the strawberries we'd pick in summertime. She wore a gown of crimson that made her raven hair seem black as night in comparison. My body became still, my breathing returned to normal, and my eyes glazed over. All I could see was her as I got up from the floor and walked towards her. I could hear my family's screams, but they sounded far away. I stood before her, frozen. Now I could see the tears running down her own face as she caressed my cheek.
"Child of fire, you would have been a great and terrible beauty who would have destroyed the world." I nodded, more in answer than understanding. "I cannot allow that to happen." She took my hand and led me to a spindle wheel. "The world is not strong enough to rebuild itself; and I must protect my own." She took my pointer finger and slowly lifted it to the needle of the spindle wheel. My heart beat faster as I tried to free myself, but my body would not comply. She rested my finger on the needle, then pushed it down until it gave a small droplet of blood. I looked at her, my eyes wide. She gazed back with tears in her eyes. "I'm sorry, Aurora."