Maleficent’s Daughter: Re-Imagined
The hand came down like a boulder and Wunpolop had only a second to protect himself before fingers closed around him. Curling into a ball ensured that his spikes were ready when the soft insides of the poacher’s palm met him. As expected, the hand went hurtling back to its owner as shouts filled the immediate surrounding, frightening the birds and Fae nesting in the trees.
Speeding through the grass, Wunpolop prayed that the human would not catch up with him. His mother had sent him out because at three years old, he was supposed to be old enough and brave enough to ensure his safety. When the hand met him again, it was covered up with pieces of cloth that were difficult to pierce through.
Angrily, the poacher shoved him into a leather bag smelling like wet shoes. Wunpolop was sure that he would suffocate before he reached wherever the man was taking him to. When they had gone a little way from the clearing where the fae had been found, the poacher walked towards a tree and began to urinate. The little fae could hear the tree grumbling. With his superior hearing, he could make out the footsteps of his savior. They were unmistakable.
The urinating went on as the dark fae waited, standing just ahead in another clump of trees, his horns tied with a blue turban. His voice was calm and sweet when it came. Wunpolop shivered in relief.
“I see you have something of mine,” he said. “The poacher lifted his head, saw what was speaking to him, and screamed.
***
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Maleficent sent the Boulder flying into the soft soil and the undergrowth. The moors were quiet for a moment and then noise resumed again. Birds and fae chirping among the trees, hedgehogs groaning inside the swamp. Sometimes everything reminded her of Aurora, the early morning sun lighting upon a pile of dry leaves. The squeal of a new fae bloomed as it came to life.
The three years that her daughter had spent as Queen of the moors had been the best. The little fae loved her for her beauty and her kindness. They were freer around her than they were around her socially inept mother but good things never last do they? Being the queen of the moors was too much responsibility even though she now shared it with someone who cared. She missed those days when she lived in the mountains and only came down when the moors needed defending.
The raven who had been watching from a low branch suddenly flew up into the air and flapped its midnight colored wings.
When the hand connected with the base of her neck, Maleficent did not panic. Soon, soft lips joined it. “Asaquevrex, you should be resting” he murmured.
“I am,” she said, turning around until she was nestled in her husband’s arms. “What did you find?”
“Poachers” he replied. “They were braver this time”
“Argh!”
“Calm yourself,” King Arthur said. He was usually the spirited one but pregnancy had made Maleficent angrier than 50 fae bulls in war thirst. He led her over to a crop of rocks and made her sit down gently.
“Sometimes, I regret the peace between us and humans,” she said. Arthur breathed deeply.
“But now we are free to live in this little paradise” he swept his hand to indicate the thriving lands around them. “Free to have children of our own and love them without fear”
“They will never stop coming for us, will they?”
“No”
“We will have to kill them -..”
“But not too much-..”
“Why?”
“The people will hate us. They will rebel against their king and Aurora”
Maleficent squeezed her left shoulder in distress. “My daughter will always be in danger among the humans,” testing her wings, she shot off the rocks and hovered in the clearing, staring down at her husband.
“Asaquevrex, don’t do something stupid” he begged. She smiled, turned around, and flew into the sky. The wind brought her last words back to him “Not yet”.
***
Of all the kingdoms in the valley, Lompoc was the most secretive. Set between two mountains, the terrain favored the way of life imposed on the people by their kings. Lompians were not allowed to marry people of any other kingdom and trade between them and neighboring kingdoms was strained and conducted by the nobility alone.
Yes, a few goods did manage to slip through the cracks in the borders. Cracks created strategically by the black market traders. Lots of strange things were sold on the black market. From the old shoes of a dark fae woman to a fairly used toothbrush. These were sold to the poorest people in the kingdom and the misfits like witches and arcane sorcerers who lived within Lompoc walls, kept as a secret from the outside world.
No one knew from where they got their powers and few were brave enough to ask. This crop of people lived in little houses dug into the body of the mountains. Looking towards the mountains, the rest of the kingdom could only make out these houses by the smoke that never stopped coming out of their chimneys. Slowly, the chimneys multiplied until they became twelve in all. Twelve houses containing witches and workers of arcane magic.
Distrust began to fester in the hearts of all the other citizens of Lompoc but even when word reached the king that two young children had walked towards the mountains and disappeared, he remained silent. At night, mothers sat their children around them and told tales of the olden days of peace and human and fae relations.
In the fourth year of the seventh king of Nord, a woman and a dark fae ran into the King’s court. The woman was weeping and barely holding unto her partner whose right wing was broken. The guards who had been unable to keep them out ran towards the king who was lounging on a rocking chair. King George had fair hair, thick brows, and deep blue eyes that gave him the appearance of an extremely wise man.
He waved the guards away and got up so his robe would be put on him. His subjects did their very best to not watch their king put on his clothes. When he was done and when the rocking chair had been replaced with a high back one which was more appropriate for the occasion, he motioned to the woman and the fae.
“Come, tell me what ails you,” he said. The woman fell to her knees and began to sob as she talked. The king could only make out “My baby”. Looking closely, he noticed that she was holding a bundle to her chest.
“What is that you carry?” He asked.
“Our child, My king” the fae man cried. “The remains of our child”
“Why? What happened?”
“The town’s people who frequently called our child a monster decided to set our house on fire today when I and my wife were out in the farms,” he said. His one hand gesticulated along with the good wing, while the other squeezed the woman’s shoulder.
“Humans and fae are not supposed to be able to reproduce. How has this happened?” King George asked. No one answered him. He looked back at the weeping woman again. “Let me see what they have done,” he said.
The woman dropped the parcel and began to open the piece of cloth. Inside was a creature with the body of a child on one side and the body of a raven on the other. Its face was unimaginably horrendous. The beak-mouth, the bulging eyes, the flesh dripping from the fire, the face feathers singed by flame. The king had never seen anything so awful so screamed his mind away.
“Take these monsters out of here!!” He screamed to his scrambling guards. “And kill them!!” He ordered. Then running towards his room, he tripped over everything close to his feet. So great was his despair that he fell into a two-month coma which left him emaciated and deranged. The moment he woke up, he ordered all fae to be banished from the kingdom and banned all fae human relations, including ordering the killing of their offspring.
Some fae and human families escaped but others didn’t. Many half faes died that day but some didn’t. Those that could be mistaken for humans were not caught and so they lived among others until their powers grew so much they fled to the mountains. Now, humans live in fear of retaliation by these beings who are said to be born with too much darkness for their good.
Stories would normally end with children gathering around windows just so they could stare at the smoke trailing out of the chimneys and while they slept, these half creatures would appear in their dreams, planting silent screams in their throats.
***
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The pale old woman who was called Meredith and who happened to be the half-fae who all the others called “Mother” fingered the silver choker around the neck of the white goat. It was peculiar, the kind of jewelry a queen would wear. How on earth was it on the neck of the goat she hoped to slaughter for dinner? The poor thing was thrashing against her hands, shaking its head as if it would speak if only the ropes around its mouth were removed.
Meredith mumbled under her breath and the ropes came off. The goat bloated loudly in panic, the sound so human-like that the old woman laughed. With its hoof, it began to draw circles on the ground. It would draw circles and look into her eyes as though it was trying to say something. The old woman placed her hand on its neck and with her hand between her legs, said the transformation spell.
For a moment there was no change, then the image of the goat began to filter in and out of the same space where a woman stood. Her face was bruised and there were sticks in her hair but she looked like a queen alright. It wasn’t hard for Meredith to realize who she was staring at. There was no one else like her in all the kingdoms, a woman cursed to remain in the form of a goat.
“I have been searching for you” the queen started to say.
“Who are you?” Meredith asked.
“I am Que-” her eyes shifted as she decided to be careful “They call me Audrey”
“Very well.” The half-fae said and smiled. “What do you want?”
“I need you to kill someone.” The queen replied. Her image was beginning to flicker faster as time ran out.
“Who?”
“Aurora. Queen of …”
The half-fae suddenly threw her head back and laughed. Her mirth was so terrible that the former queen shrank into herself. When Meredith was done laughing, she leaned towards the woman/goat and whispered in her ear.
“Strange,” She said “We both have the same enemy” then she removed her hand from between her legs to end the spell. Feeling that she might have lost her only one chance, the queen asked with the last of her human voice.
“Who are you?” she asked. Meredith smiled and brought out her knife, shiny in the near darkness.
“I am Maleficent’s daughter,” she said, plunging the knife straight into the animal’s heart.
***
Peace can never last, that’s what Richard thought as he stood against the window on the third floor of the castle that housed him and his family. His mother used to say those words and as he stood there, the familiar worry crept over him. The unity between humans and Fae was something that had been sought after for centuries.
His grandfather and his father in turn had fought to make it happen and when his mother chose to be the villain who would avert the age-old dream, good prevailed once more over evil. Three years later, the alliance between both races was still solid but Richard worried.
In the last war which was orchestrated by his mother, many faes were killed, including hundreds of winged dark fae like his mother-in-law. At that time, their numbers were small and their people weak due to the harsh conditions of living they had faced while in hiding. After three years of peace, Richard did not want to imagine what damage they would do if they woke up one day and decided they wanted war.
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He came off his chambers into a deserted hallway. There was no one around save for the little plants that crawled and flourished on all the walls in the castle. The only nourishment they received was from the occasional sun and hallway light. They too were fae, able to survive as plants without their roots in the soil.
In the heat of the afternoon, the flowers would open up to reveal tiny little human-like creatures. They were usually naked but for a petal around their waist and a headgear of pollen. People called them Maleficent’s eyes. The palace staff tried to be on their best behavior while walking through the hallways. Richard liked it for the added security it brought. Yet, he also knew that these plants could be used as weapons if any of the dark faes was around.
The sense of foreboding he had continued to increase and he made his way towards the Eastern part of the castle. There was only one person who could make him feel better with just a smile. He found her sitting on a large pile of yarn on her balcony. When she saw him, she shot off the ground like a little fae and ran into his arms.
“Ah, Aurora” he murmured, burying his face in her hair.
“I have missed you,” she said, hugging him as tightly as she could with her belly bump separating them.
“You should have called for me.” Richard said. “and where are your servants?”
“Oh,” she said, averting her eyes. “I told them to go have fun”
“Honey, you kn..” Richard began to say but she stopped him with a hand to his mouth.
“I know, I know. Nothing is going to happen to me” Aurora said and grinned. Her husband only sighed and shook his head.
“Come on. Be happy. Go and see what I have completed over there” she pointed towards the pile of baby clothes near the door. Sitting on the bed, she began to gently massage her knees.
“Are you okay?” Richard asked. He was holding one of the dresses to his chest and staring at his pregnant wife who suddenly looked so tired. Perhaps if he had been looking outside he would have seen the arrow as it traveled through the sky towards them but as it was, he only saw it in his peripheral vision as it passed by him.
“Duck!!!!!” He screamed, diving for Aurora.
Aurora ducked but it was too late. The arrow lodged in her left shoulder and began to burn. Outside, a giant bird shrieked madly, the sound shaking the foundations of the castle.
Maleficent.
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