“As by your edict.”
The king allowed himself a throaty laugh. “You? Your blood is not worthy. You are a servant, nothing more. I don’t even know your name!”
The king continued to laugh heartily, which became a series of coughs.
Stefan turned, unable to believe what he was hearing. He had not done the unthinkable to be turned away now. He walked swiftly to the other side of the bed and stood over the king. Enraged, Stefan picked up a pillow and forced it over the king’s head.
“I’m called Stefan.”
LYING BY THE RIVERBANK THAT ONLY AN EVENING BEFORE HAD SEEMED SO BEAUTIFUL, MALEFICENT LET DARKNESS TAKE HOLD OF HER HEART. She lay there for hours, occasionally feeling the flapping of phantom wings. She wanted to stay there until her heart stopped. There was nothing left for her in this cruel world. So she closed her eyes and waited for the end.
But the end didn’t come. For as night fell once more, Maleficent slowly awoke, aware of the sounds of nature all around her. Keeping her eyes closed, she heard the trees rustling overhead and groaned. But the trees just rustled louder, as though trying to rouse her. Their branches began to thrash angrily and the wood creaked and groaned.
Opening her eyes, Maleficent watched the trees shake. She knew they were trying to help, but she didn’t care. Reaching into her robe, she pulled out a broken, crooked branch of the Rowan, a piece of home that she often carried with her. With a sigh, she let it fall to the ground.
To her surprise, the branch began to straighten out. Then it began to grow. It grew longer and thicker until it was the size of a staff. As Maleficent picked it up, her fingers wrapped tightly around it. She felt a surge of power, and despite her misery, she began to pull herself up. When she was standing, she leaned on the staff. It was hardy and bore her weight well.
Interesting, she thought as she began to limp forward. With each step, her resolve grew. True, Stefan had taken her wings. True, he had broken her heart. But she still had her magic. And now she had something stronger than magic. She had a mission. She was going to make Stefan and the humans pay for what they had done.
Maleficent wandered the countryside, and wherever she went, destruction and chaos followed. When she passed by a shepherd’s paddock, the gate magically swung open and the flock of sheep ran out and scattered in all directions, their bleats slowly fading away as they disappeared into the nearby woods. The sky grew darker and the clouds thundered. As she walked through the middle of a farmer’s field, the scarecrow rotted and the wheels on a nearby cart fell off. Moving down the road, she raised her staff high. The ground shook and then broke apart, rocks and debris flying high in the air. Pointing at a mound of hay in the distance, she smiled maliciously as it caught on fire and began to burn, the flames licking the sky.
With each step Maleficent grew stronger, and with each act of destruction she grew more intense, her focus fiercer. She leaned less and less on the staff until, finally, she didn’t need it at all. Still, she kept it in her hand, unwilling to let go of the last part of her old life.
After a few weeks of wandering aimlessly, Maleficent found herself outside the ruins of a long-abandoned castle. Birds’ nests had replaced the panes of glass in its many windows. Whole sides of the massive building had fallen down, and only a few of the outbuildings still had roofs. Moss had overtaken the stone floors and walls, giving the whole place a green, muted atmosphere, and where horses had once munched hay in stalls, nothing remained but a few empty, rotting buckets. But as she made her way amid the broken stone and around the fallen timber, Maleficent felt at peace. This place was like her. Left to rot and ruin. And like her, it held on despite being broken. Lying down on the grass that had grown in the middle of the ruins, Maleficent looked up at the stone gargoyles perched on the roof. They glared back at her, their mouths frozen in grimaces that Maleficent found oddly comforting.