It takes place in a land far away, a very long time ago, even before the creation of Happily Ever After. In a time when there were still fairy tales being made, when magic was as common as cars are today and where kings would still fight for their honour and their maiden.
It was there that our little boys lived. He lived a good life. He had everything: a big room with an even bigger bed, plenty of other boys to play with and great food. You could say he lived the life of a prince. And you would be right in saying so, because he was a prince. He was one of the many children of the king, given to him by one of his many wives. He wasn't the king's first child, or his first male child. He had a lot of older brothers, so the chances of him ever being a king were next to zero. So the little boy never cared much for anything they taught him about being one - a king I mean - but he always enjoyed the lessons on nature and particularly about the animals in the great forest that lay at the border of his fathers kingdom. His favourite story was the one of the dragon Glaudir that was supposed to live at the other side of the haunted forest. Supposedly he guarded an ancient treasure. Before the land had become divided into the many small kingdoms it housed today, there was legend of a great king - also named Aron coincidentally, who ruled the land peacefully and justly, with the aid of his faithful magician Do'ruth. When the king finally died of old age, his children fought over his heritance, and divided the country over a lot of bloodshed and slaughter. Do'ruth fled the lands and took all of his king’s treasures with him, into the forest. At first, many brave knights would enter the forest to reclaim the treasures, but few returned. The few that did return, were bordering on insanity, and all they could get from them was the story of the dragon, that defended the treasure and burned everyone that came near it. One knight came back claiming that he actually wounded the dragon in the eye, but he also claimed that he was king of puppet country, so his story was dismissed as a mad man's tale.
Whenever he could, the little boy went out in to the country. Somehow he always ended up at the entrance of the old forest. The entrance must have once offered a glorious sight, but nowadays only ruins of the impressive portal remained. It was said that Malkir, the king's magician had seen the gate at it's full splendour and knew the story behind it's demise, but whenever somebody asked for the story, Malkir would simply deny everything and command you to never ever go into the forest! The little boy, his name was Aron, would never dream of entering the forest. At nights weird noises would come from the forest, and many a widow had endlessly told her story of how the forest had taken her man in the prime of his life.
Positively scared of this hunted forest as Aron was though, he was also inevitably drawn to it. Often he would just lie back on what was once a piece of the portal's arch - which had fallen down long ago and was now covered in a nice soft layer of moss - and stare into the darkness of the forest. Of the road in to the forest - no more than a poorly maintained cart track, you could only see the first few metres, after which it was consumed by darkness. The road at the portal was the only way to enter the forest, because all the edge of the forest was at the bottom very thickly grown with very prickly thorns.
It was there that our little boys lived. He lived a good life. He had everything: a big room with an even bigger bed, plenty of other boys to play with and great food. You could say he lived the life of a prince. And you would be right in saying so, because he was a prince. He was one of the many children of the king, given to him by one of his many wives. He wasn't the king's first child, or his first male child. He had a lot of older brothers, so the chances of him ever being a king were next to zero. So the little boy never cared much for anything they taught him about being one - a king I mean - but he always enjoyed the lessons on nature and particularly about the animals in the great forest that lay at the border of his fathers kingdom. His favourite story was the one of the dragon Glaudir that was supposed to live at the other side of the haunted forest. Supposedly he guarded an ancient treasure. Before the land had become divided into the many small kingdoms it housed today, there was legend of a great king - also named Aron coincidentally, who ruled the land peacefully and justly, with the aid of his faithful magician Do'ruth. When the king finally died of old age, his children fought over his heritance, and divided the country over a lot of bloodshed and slaughter. Do'ruth fled the lands and took all of his king’s treasures with him, into the forest. At first, many brave knights would enter the forest to reclaim the treasures, but few returned. The few that did return, were bordering on insanity, and all they could get from them was the story of the dragon, that defended the treasure and burned everyone that came near it. One knight came back claiming that he actually wounded the dragon in the eye, but he also claimed that he was king of puppet country, so his story was dismissed as a mad man's tale.
Whenever he could, the little boy went out in to the country. Somehow he always ended up at the entrance of the old forest. The entrance must have once offered a glorious sight, but nowadays only ruins of the impressive portal remained. It was said that Malkir, the king's magician had seen the gate at it's full splendour and knew the story behind it's demise, but whenever somebody asked for the story, Malkir would simply deny everything and command you to never ever go into the forest! The little boy, his name was Aron, would never dream of entering the forest. At nights weird noises would come from the forest, and many a widow had endlessly told her story of how the forest had taken her man in the prime of his life.
Positively scared of this hunted forest as Aron was though, he was also inevitably drawn to it. Often he would just lie back on what was once a piece of the portal's arch - which had fallen down long ago and was now covered in a nice soft layer of moss - and stare into the darkness of the forest. Of the road in to the forest - no more than a poorly maintained cart track, you could only see the first few metres, after which it was consumed by darkness. The road at the portal was the only way to enter the forest, because all the edge of the forest was at the bottom very thickly grown with very prickly thorns.
One afternoon, when Aron was peacefully lying on the piece of arch, his eyes closed, he was playing with his necklace. It was all he had left of his mother, as she died while giving birth to him. It was a piece of glass, yellowish, shaped like a triangle. In one of the corners there was a blotch. It had rugged edges and the colour, well, no one could really tell. At first sight, you would say black, but at a closer distance, it could have been any colour, depending also of the angle at which you looked at it... Although Aron knew it to be nonsense, he often thought that the blotch moved in a way, but only if he wasn't really looking at it. You know, when you sort of see it from the corner of your eyes, but didn't really see it clearly. At one time Aron actually thought it might be an eye watching him, but that idea was so silly that he'd laughed at it for almost half an hour. Suddenly he smelt something. At first he couldn't place the smell. But he most definitely could when opened his eyes and looked around him. The town was on fire! He smelled smoke! As soon as he saw the fires, he also heard the sounds of battle: trumpets being blown, metal on metal, metal on flesh, the shrieks of scared women and children.
His town was under attack! And by the looks of it, it must be by his evil uncle Jonathan. He could see his uncles colours on the battle flags. Instinct told him to run away, but Aron ran towards the village. As he closed, the noises got louder, and he could already see some dead people lying around. Trying not to vomit, he continued to run towards the town square, where apparently the fighting was taking place now. As he arrived, he was in an instant that all was lost! What few people of his family still remained, were driven into a corner and were being slaughtered. He saw his second and third brother desperately defending themselves and their - his - relatives, but to no avail. His father and his first brother, the crown prince, had already fallen. Frozen in place and unable to move, Aron had to watch his entire family be murdered by... well... another part of his family. Finally the massacre was over. The victors raised their trumpets and blew for victory. Aron didn't know what to do as tears welled up in his eyes.
But then a foot soldier saw him, an recognized him. "There's another prince, grab him!" the soldier shouted and he pointed at Aron. Soldiers nearby came into action, and soon others followed. Suddenly, Aron could move again, and ran. He ran for his life. Luckily he knew the town by heart, so he easily created some distance between him and his pursuers. But he knew they would not give up, so he kept running. As if by faith, he ran towards the forest, towards the ruined gate into the haunted forest. Although Aron knew the terrain better, the soldiers were now gaining on him once they were in the open field, simply because they had been trained better. Soon they would catch up with him, and he realized they would not show mercy. He would die by their swords, somewhere in the fields he grew up in and so loved to watch when lying down on 'his' part of the portal's arch. There was only one way out: into the forest! He could hardly believe it, but it was true, the only way to survive those bloodthirsty soldiers was to enter the haunted forest, because no one would follow him there. They were all to scared. So was Aron, but he had no choice! So he gathered all of his courage, leaped over the arch and ran straight into the forest. Within seconds, everything went dark. As expected, the soldiers did not follow, but he still ran on. After only a few more seconds their sounds were gone, and he was all alone in the forest, and he could not see anything at all. If you are running around in the dark, you know something must go wrong, and so it did. Aron had been running in a straight line, and apparently the road was also straight. But as it is with forest, there are trees in them. Trees have roots, and roots tend to go wherever they like. And this particular root had decided to cross the path, above ground. So Aron's foot got stuck behind the root, and he fell flat on his face. Aron hit the ground so hard, that - if it wasn’t already black enough around him - everything went black before his eyes. Aron sank into a deep, dark and unconscious sleep...
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