The Sleeping Prince. (The alternate introduction/universe)

It was late spring.

The evening sun barely peaked through the thick canopy of large darkwood trees above you. It was hanging low in the sky, managing to cast a few shafts of golden-orange light through the enormous tree trunks.

The Dark woods was dense, so many trees and plants made it almost impossible to see more than ten feet around you.

The leaves and brush crunched and shifted under your feet. A rustle of wind whispered through the trees. Somewhere a few birds called, the last few before they retreated to their nests.

For this forest being so infamous, it was…strangely peaceful. In a quiet, secretive sort of way.

You push past another thick, thorny bush. And then you stop, mouth falling open.

In front of you were large cut stones, some still stacked into half walls, others just lay crumbled in piles overgrown with moss and ferns.

Beyond the square area of stone, was an old massive door that belonged to what must have once been an imposing castle of decent size. A tower, overgrown with vines and dark forest moss rose to the left of it. The right side of the door was caved in on itself, a large hole in the stone roof and walls made it clear that this place had been abandoned for several years.

You walk through the derelict courtyard. The stone archway was only half standing. The other was just a pile of stones to your right. Nature had already claimed the walls back. Covering them in green.

You hesitate at the door, turning to look at the trees around you. The forest had gone quiet, like it was holding its breath.

Not a great sign in the Dark Woods.

Your hand pushes at the door, at first it resists. You place both hands on the dark, aged wood, pushing with all of your weight put into it.

The door slowly creaks open, as if offended at being disturbed. You take a tentative step inside, half in and half out. Poking your head in to look around. It’s like you thought it would be.

Abandoned and falling apart.

The large stone chamber was overgrown as well. At the far end, at the opposite wall was a large stained glass window depicting a royal family, miraculously unbroken save for a crack that connected two corners.

The rest of the room was barren of any life aside from plant life or the occasional bird. Fading, evening light came in from the right side’s broken ceiling.

To your left is an archway, leading into another large room.

You take another step inside. “H-hello?” You say.

No answer.

You walk to the left archway, and go into the larger room. It was hard to tell what this room used to be. There are few high arched windows, glass long since broken, along the wall opposite you.

And to your right, another crumbling archway. The wooden door lay on the ground in front of it, already rotting and being eaten away by mushrooms of questionable edibleness.

Beyond the arch…Were stone steps.

Call it curiosity. Call it foolishness. Call it whatever you might, you start climbing the winding staircase.

It was a long climb, your legs burned by the time you reached the doorway and pushed through. This one swung open like it hadn’t been touched by the weathering.

The room beyond made you stop in your tracks.

This one looked almost completely untouched by the rot and neglect from outside. No moss or plants on the walls.

A grand stone fireplace, completely intact, was on the right side of the wall. Unlit, but wood was inside like it had been used recently.

On the opposite wall to you, was a large window that looked down onto the forest floor below.

To the right was a small round table with two chairs. Clear except for a small silver candelabra and an empty silver goblet atop it.

And in the center of the room, on a small dais, the thing that made your breath catch, sat a case in the shape of a coffin.

It was an elaborate glass case, with an open top. The glass had an almost magical blue tint. And inside…laying on a bed of blue, black, and white flowers, was an undeniably attractive man.

His skin was pale, with hair as dark as a raven’s feathers, his eyes were closed, sharp jaw slack with sleep. And he had strange silver markings around his eyes.

He looked….Peaceful. His breaths came slow, and even. The only indication that he was alive at all.

Completely unbothered by the decay and broken state of the castle around him.

You carefully walk up to the side of the case.

You find a silver plaque on the side that simply read:

Through a kiss you will sleep

And through a heart will you wake.

A mind not held by sword

Not through will or word

But through a soul will it break

A sleeping man. A poem. A fallen castle

“What is this place?” You murmur to no one.

Your eyes move back to his face. To the strange markings on his eyes. Without thinking, your hand reaches out, hovering over them.

You hesitate. Hand still hanging between you. And then you move to gently touch his shoulder.

“Hey, please wake up” you say quietly, not wanting to startle him. “Are you alright?”

no response. His breathing stayed the same.

Now what?