A Month of Midnights

Queen Golde pulled two plush chairs from her plethora of desks and set them next to the wall sized windows. As we conversed, I’d steal glances out at the mountains and valley that formed Istoria. It was a quick emotional reliever as our discussion carried on. Queen Golde seemed quite comfortable talking about her past, not at all uneasy about revealing it to a perfect stranger. It was clear she gave the same explanation to every person that came to her.

“My father treated me as an item to sell. He claimed I could spin straw into gold just to give him more stature in front of the king. One thing led to another, and I was pushed and pulled into a position where the only way I could live was if I could perform practically a miracle. I was my father’s chess piece, and I was caught in a game I didn’t know how to play. I was so ignorant back then, a simple minded farmer’s daughter who knew nothing of the world or of its dangers until I was locked in a room full of straw,” spoke the Queen regretfully.

“But that’s when you met-”

“Rumplestiltskin,” she finished with a shudder. She clasped her hands together tensely, and her eyes darted back and forth between the window and the floor. The name, and a wicked one it was, still gave the Queen nightmares even during the the day it seemed. She gulped and looked back to me. “What a cruel little man,” she said under her breath. “He fooled me, and I was stupid enough to fall for it. I almost had to pay the consequences, but I have Ladworth to thank for saving me.”

“Ladworth the butler?” I asked, recalling the big man who had been less than social with me. Queen Golde nodded.

“Ladworth was one of the king’s messengers at the time, and he was the one who discovered what the man’s name was. After my husband, the king, died, I took it upon myself to give Ladworth a better paying position in the castle, one that could better support his family. I owe him that much.” I looked around peculiarly.

“Don’t you have a daughter?” I said recalling the story of Rumpelstiltskin. Queen Golde smiled.

“Yes, the little troublemaker is frolicking around here somewhere though she should be in her studies,” she said light heartedly. I responded with a laugh.

“Anyways,” the Queen continued, “about a year after the king died, an announcement came out that the Holder of the Histories had passed away suddenly. He was a very old and frail man who lived in some remote cottage. His magic had kept him alive well beyond his years. The Council of Royals met and decided a new Holder needed to be appointed before the next Day of the Choosing. I eagerly volunteered,” said the Queen, excitement glowing in her bright eyes .

“But why?” I couldn’t help but ask. “All this knowledge, all this information to cram. Isn’t it tiring?” I said gesturing to the books and papers. The Queen smiled widely.

“Surely, you of all people, Blyss, can understand. You and I are alike. We have an urge, a need to learn, to go deeper, to know more. After the embarrassment of not being able to guess one little man’s name without Ladworth’s help, I had a gnawing desire to fix that, to know more things. I didn’t ever want to be caught helpless and stupid like that again. I wanted to be prepared. And when the Council needed a new Holder, I saw the perfect opportunity. Now, everyday I study and learn about everything, and I’ve never been happier!” the Queen declared as she clapped her hands together. “But you didn’t come here to listen about my life, you came here to find out where the Writer is, and this you shall know!” The Queen whirled up from her chair and wove her way through the desks. She returned shortly with a tattered book whose brittle spine clung tenaciously to its pages. She flipped opened the book as she sat back down across from me.

“What is that?” I inquired casually. I never thought I’d feel so relaxed talking with a royal as I did with Queen Golde. She was certainly right in the fact that we were alike. It gave me hope that I wasn’t alone.

“One of the many novels the Writer has published. Of course, most Chorio citizens aren’t allowed to see them to protect his identity. This one is about the rules and proceedings of the Day of Choosing all the way through to the end of the Month of Midnights,” the Queen explained. “It even has proper directions for the festivities that last throughout the Month.”

“Festivities?”

“Well, you see, when the Month arrives, many of the fairytale stories are completed, and they have a month to celebrate before the new characters come in. Rumor has it that at the last Month of Midnights, Hansel and Gretel opened the candy cottage to the public, and it was gone by morning!” Queen Golde laughed.

“But how do I find the Writer?” I pressed.

“Well, if I remember correctly…” the Queen flipped the pages, muttering something inaudible. She finally stopped on a page and scanned its contents quickly. “Ah, yes, for common fairytale characters, an enchanted map shall be given which will guide them from the Holder of the Histories directly to the house of the Writer.” A sinking sensation struck my heart.

“What does that mean, ‘common fairytale characters’?” I asked. The Queen looked at me in a bizarre fashion before finally understanding.

“Oh,” she admitted quietly, “I almost forgot.” She looked back at the book and turned to the next page.

Queen Golde read, “For villains who wish to inquire the Writer about a glitch in their magic or for any other important matter, the process varies. Due to the dark elements embedded in their bestowed magic, villains must find two things to bring before the Writer. One: the weapon or object that kills them. Two: the person, or persons, who kills them. When these things are collected, the way to the Writer will be revealed. No map will be needed.”

“So you can’t even give me a map or directions or...” The Queen shook her head solemnly. I slumped back in my chair and thought. The weapon that kills me? That must be the Sword of Truth. The person that kills me? A shiver vibrated under my skin. Prince Philip kills Maleficent.

I leaned forward. “Since you’re the Holder of the Histories, you know everything, right?” I asked shakily.

“Well, not everything. I certainly don’t know why the Animali think they’re better writers than humans,” the Queen said spitefully.

“Do you know who was assigned to be the new Prince Philip?” The Queen’s face lit up.

“Oh, that’s easy! It’s Dane Robinson from the village south of-”

“I know where it is,” I said breathlessly. Dane, my friend and the person I was predicted to marry, was now fated to kill me.

“That’s right,” said the Queen, “you and Dane come from the same village. You must know each other.”

“If I had been chosen as Sleeping Beauty, we would have married,” I replied, looking out the window to find comfort in the nature again. “How am I supposed to bring Dane before the Writer?”

“It’ll take a lot of convincing,” answered the Queen. I looked back at her.

“And the weapon? Where am I supposed to find the Sword of Truth?”

“Well, the Weapons of Righteousness are always guarded by the three Elder Faeries, the ones that raise Sleeping Beauty in the woods. I imagine you’d have to go to them,” said the Queen.

“Do you at least have a map I could use to find them?” I asked hopefully. Queen Golde nodded and stood up. She walked over to her enormous bookcases and ran her fingers along the shelves. She approached a stack of scrolls and quickly found the map. Withdrawing it from its resting place, the Queen brought it back to me.

“I must warn you,” she said as she handed the map to me, “the Elder Faeries may not give it to you. As far as I know, Sleeping Beauty’s tale hasn’t finished yet. They may still need it.” I furrowed my brow.

“Then what will I do? How else am I supposed to find the Writer?” The Queen bit her lip.

“Well, there’s always the other-no, you can’t go there. That’d be just asking for trouble, especially for you.”

“What? Where? Is there another sword?” I asked frantically. The Queen shook her head.

“Don’t trouble yourself with it, child. It’s useless information you shouldn’t worry yourself with. Go to the Elder Faeries. They can help you, I promise. They’re very kind. And if I remember correctly, one of them is related to you,” said the Queen cheerfully. I nodded.

“Yes, Flora is my great great-”

“Great aunt,” Queen Golde finished. Of course, the Holder of the Histories knew this. “And one of the Sleeping Beauties from a long time ago also shared your blood. You have quite a lineage, Blyss.”

“Let’s just hope I don’t ruin it,” I mumbled. Thankfully, the Queen did not hear me. She walked with me out of the library and back through the castle interior. While strolling through an intricately decorated corridor, a young child’s giggle echoed nearby. A little girl with strawberry blonde curls came running around the corner, her arms spread out as she twirled down the carpeted hallway.

“Mommy!” the little girl cried as she leapt up into Queen Golde’s arms. “I’m a faery!” she squealed.

“Really?” said the Queen, “then let me see your magic!” The Queen’s daughter tapped her mother’s nose, and a puff of shimmery sparkles bursted from the girl’s fingertips. The Queen chuckled and turned to me.

“Children born in Istoria automatically have magic. Theirs is more powerful than their parents because it isn’t bestowed,” explained the Queen. She set down her daughter, and she ran around her mother’s legs.

“Where will you go after the Month ends, and your replacement arrives?” I asked curiously.

“Well,” said the Queen, “since we’re not allowed to return home, retired fairytale characters have always relocated to Istoria’s villages where we live out the rest of our days. Though I’ll lose my title as Queen, I’ll still be the Holder of the Histories, and Sunny will grow up in an environment where she can still use her magic.”

“Careful!” Sunny cried abruptly, “let me cast a spell to protect you!” Another burst of sparkles shot from Sunny’s fingers.

“Oh, that reminds me!” said the Queen as we rounded the corner. “You’re going to need a faery to guide you. To get to the Writer, you’ll almost certainly have to travel through the Forest of Temptations, and only faeries have the ability to shield travelers.”

“Shield? Shield from what?” I asked nervously. Apparently, the Storyteller hadn’t been exaggerating when she said it was dangerous in Istoria.

“The Forest of Temptations lives up to its name. It’s the home to witches and wolves and sirens and all the lowlife scum of Istoria. Half the people who dare to go into the Forest of Temptations without the protection of a faery usually don’t make it out alive or at least in one piece,” warned the Queen. We approached the same castle doors I had come through. I clutched the map to the three Elder Faeries in my hand.

“Where can I find a faery?” I inquired.

“There’s a faery village about a three day’s walk from here. Don’t forget Istoria is bigger than it looks,” said Queen Golde as she pointed to a section on the map. She then opened the castle doors, and the noisy sounds of the bustling servants flooded the castle. “You’re very fortunate to have that horse with you,” she said with an unreadable grin. It looked as if though she knew something I did not. I laughed shyly and stepped outside.

“Thank you, Your Highness, for everything,” I said gratefully.

“It is my pleasure. It’s always nice to see that there are others in these realms that see the world a bit more like I do,” said the Queen thoughtfully. I began to speak when something collided into my legs. I pulled my cloak aside and saw a dwarf push past me to get to the Queen.

“Get out of my way! Your Highness, please hear me out one more time! I know my magic has a glitch, it just has to! I measured myself, and I read the standards-”

“I’m sorry, but I don’t see anything wrong. You look just as you should. And why are you still here? I’ve sent you away twice, and yet you still find a way back!” said the Queen irritated.

“Your Highness, I don’t think you understand-”

“Ladworth!” called the Queen. Ladworth appeared at the doorway and rolled his eyes when he saw the dwarf.

“How many times have I told you to leave? You should be jailed for this!” exclaimed Ladworth as he picked up the helpless dwarf and carried him across the courtyard to the main gate. The Queen sighed.

“The poor fellow’s convinced his magic made him one inch too tall for the traditional dwarf standard,” she explained.

“I assume he’s to be one of the seven dwarves?” I asked as we watched the dwarf be thrown out. He flashed an offensive finger at Ladworth who brushed it off with disgust.

“Yes, he’s going to be Grumpy. Fitting, don’t you think?” the Queen chuckled. I couldn’t help but giggle. I bowed to the Queen, which this time she allowed. I then walked down the steps and back to the stable where Rudy anxiously awaited my return. I went to stroke his forehead when I remembered to stop myself. Rudy nodded in approval, and I laughed quietly, careful to avoid another vision of his.

“See? I’m getting better,” I said scratching behind his ear. I grabbed my basket from the stable floor and swung onto Rudy’s back. He then led me out of the stable and up to the main gate. The guard at the top of the wall lifted the gate for me, and we passed through. As Rudy stepped back onto the golden road, a voice whispered from the trees.

“Hey...hey!” it muttered. I looked up and around me, trying to see between the thick branches. “Down here!” it called again. I looked below the branches and saw a little, pinched face peeking out from behind one of the trunks. It was the dwarf from the castle. “Could you give me a ride? At least down to the valley?” he asked stepping out farther. Rudy snorted in annoyance. I could feel him preparing to gallop away.

“Well, I, I don’t know if…” I was unsure of what to say.

“I won’t be pest, I promise. Well, unless if you provoke me,” he admitted with a smirk. He came up to Rudy who was shifting his weight back and forth angrily. “Looks like you need a saddle,” observed the dwarf as he stroked his cedar brown beard. “Seems like both of you are uncomfortable without it.”

“We’re fine, thank you,” I lied.

“I could get you one. I saw some back in the castle, and I know how to get in there unnoticed,” he offered with a sly grin. Rudy and I tensed in unison. So far the dwarf seemed more shady than grumpy.

“That won’t be necessary. And I’m sorry, but I can’t give you a ride,” I said as I subtly tapped Rudy’s shoulder blade, warning him that I was ready to go.

“Can’t or won’t? I know you and that horse have some weird connection. I saw it back at the castle, and I see it now. Perhaps it is he that won’t let you give me a ride?” he said eyeing Rudy. I pursed my lips.

“If you are suggesting something about my horse, sir, then you are very wrong. Good day,” I said. On cue, Rudy trotted away briskly, holding his head up proudly.

“Wait!” cried the dwarf, “Please!” Rudy broke into a gallop. I looked back as the little man faded out of view. He stomped his foot and turned back towards the castle. I shrugged off the strange encounter and leaned down to Rudy’s ear.

“We’re looking for a faery village about a three day’s journey from here. When we get down the mountain, I’ll show you the map.” Rudy whinnied in response and galloped on. It was near nightfall when we reached a good place to stop. Rudy stopped at a modest river and let me hop off. I gathered scraps of wood and twigs and ignited a small fire. I was grateful that my mother taught me basic survival skills. It was the only way people in Chorio could live. Rudy and I shared another small meal for our supper. He then got down and rested on the ground. I found this peculiar as all the horses in the Chorio villages slept standing up. Then again, Rudy didn’t seem to be an average horse. I curled up next him for warmth. Though his coat was thin, he gave off immense heat which put me to sleep within minutes.

I slept calmly for a few hours. I dreamt of peaceful meadows and carefree enjoyment. I had delicate magic at my fingertips like little Sunny. Perhaps it would have lasted longer if I hadn’t woken up with another burning fever. Assuming it was Rudy who was making me warm, I rolled away and tried to sleep just on the bare dirt. The heat only increased. I looked up at the pitch black sky. Only a few stars were brave enough to twinkle. Oh no, it occurred to me, it’s midnight. Rudy’s eyes opened wide, and he was on his feet in seconds. I pushed myself upwards and came to him. I placed my hand on the side of his neck and felt that he was unusually warm too. He began to whine uncontrollably.

“Rudy, it’s the magic. It’s midnight!” I explained. The heat, more intense than last night, seared my skin and consumed my body again. My skin felt prickled and blistered, but it showed no evidence of physical damage. Rudy bucked wildly and ran into the river. I followed him as we waded into the water, letting it cool us off temporarily. Rudy continued to buck, and I saw that he would not calm down. I approached him, trying to ease him and relax him. He did not see me and bucked again, hitting me square in the chest. The force sent me flying through the water, and I plunged down into the riverbed. My head smashed against one of the stones underwater and dizziness now had to combat with the burning. I knew I needed to get above the water, but I was to weak to will my thoughts into actions.

As my final supply of oxygen began to disappear, a sudden hand yanked me above the surface of the water. Between the darkness and the pain, I couldn’t bring myself to open my eyes. The person dragged me ashore, and I heard their body collapse onto the ground next to mine. I decided if I lived through the night, I’d thank them in the morning.