A story, retold…

Our story begins in a kingdom (in Hyrule? by the sea?)

Not one of castles and knights, but one of electric lights and cobblestone streets

Not one of nobility or kings [ha!]

Just a place that, no matter it’s duller parts, was full of the precious concept of belonging.

It was a family.

This kingdom, this family, decades ago, was thrown into chaos.

The exact events are still lost to chasms of amnesia and the limits of understanding that a year-old can have.

Perhaps that is where they forever shall remain.

It is simply known that, when the small kingdom’s precious treasure was Stolen, chaos and despair engulfed it.

What happened to the small kingdom…even the depths of chaos and despair…are unknown.

For this is not the story of that kingdom.

This story is that of the treasure–the Stolen Piece of a family. The Stolen Piece of the kingdom’s light.

Of what happened when the Prince(sse) de la lumière was taken away from their home.


Over sea, under stone.

The Prince(sse) was scared.

They hadn’t listened to the words of warning.

“Don’t stray off of the path”

[That wasn’t what was said. He told us not to wander off]

-Same difference. This was meant to evoke thoughts of a little girl in a cloak of crimson. To remind of another story, where another child was warned of the dangers of the world…and what occurred when the child did not heed their elder’s warning-

[It matters if you want to be believed–for your story to be taken at truth to ANY degree]

-I could write out a detailed play-by-play, if I held those memories. However, no amount of clear non-fiction will convince someone who doesn’t want to believe to do so. Better to write within the comforts of fiction…with symbology, analogies, and references. Let any readers make their own decisions on what is truth. These emotions are real, and that isn’t going to change. Even if we’re misunderstanding our memories…we still hold these emotions. And, imo, nothing else has come CLOSE to explaining all of out emotions aside from what I write about.-

[We were never any sort of prince or princess, though]

-Maybe not at the beginning of our story, but don’t worry about that. We did indeed become one. And we will reach that point of the story when we get there.-

“Don’t wander off, _____”



The Prince(sse) only heard the worried family member calling out for them as they were picked up and carried far away from the person they had followed behind like a duckling not so long before.

Over sea, under stone.

That is where the scary people–the workers of the Gluttonous Kingdom–took the Prince(sse).

The workers stripped them bare, grinning as they studied the small child’s form.

The King-Who-Would-Be-God wanted a young princess to raise as his own, to sate the depraved desires of his loins and lascivious mind.

The Scorpion Queen wanted a Keeper–a nursemaid and helper for the youngling prince she bore into the world.

The Prince(sse)’s body would be altered.

The Prince(sse) would not get to make the choice their family had wished for them.

The Prince(sse) would have their body distorted into the form of a young princess for the King and Queen.

SHE would be perfect

SHE would be just what was requested of the workers.

When the workers had finished their new form, le miroir de l’esprit cracked in half.

No longer would the mind be able to be whole.

No longer un.


Hansel would always be confused by what had changed.

Gretel would always be confused by what had changed.

Not allowed to choose which box they wanted, not allowed for time to reveal its own plans for their body. They no longer had any say in their existence.

They weren’t a person, let alone a Prince(sse), anymore.

They were a possession.

A toy for the King-Who-Would-Be-God to use.

A useful tool for the Scorpion Queen, to keep watch on the young princeling.

They didn’t want this.

They wanted to go home.

They wanted to see the lights of their kingdom.

But all they were told they had to look towards in the Gluttonous Kingdom was darkness.

Over sea, under stone.

The Prince(sse) was taken to the Gluttonous Kingdom.


Far away, in another kingdom. Once again, not of kings and queens.

This family, this kingdom, was made of starlit fire and birds of life.

There was freedom of nature, wild and powerful.

There was light and hope.

And then there were deepest griefs.

A bird of starlit fire had tasted of these griefs, and knew them intimately.

The bird knew that even the deepest of their griefs was preferable to the shallow pleasure of the Gluttonous Kingdom, for it was theirs. They-a being of stars, fire, love, ash, rebirth-were no strangers to life’s cruelty.

Yet their path still had cruel events ahead of them.

This being of starlit fire had their wings clipped and their talons dealt with for transport.

The Gluttonous Kingdom believed that it was their right to take such a beautiful creature and possess it for themselves.

They did not care that this was a being of nature–a fire and sky elemental. They only cared for its appearance, and how much they would be able to gain through charging admittance to view such beauty.

They did not care that the colorful bird drew its energy, its color, its light from its home.

They did not care that they were attempting to destroy something beautiful and powerful for their own greed.

When the bird of starlit fire was flown, caged, through the skies it had once called home, they were told of the role they were to play in the Gluttonous Kingdom, along with the other precious, Stolen Treasures the workers had collected.

Darkness was ahead for them.


As the Precious Treasures were prepared for display, it was as if the universe saw.

The universe saw them.

The Prince(sse), taken from the kingdom of lights, electricity, and water.

The bird of starlit fire, taken from the kingdom of air, of fire, of shadow, of nature.

It was as if the universe looked between the two.

Both Stolen.

Both lost.

Both in darkness.

“May it be a light to you in dark places, when all other lights go out” the universe seemed to breathe to itself. A red string tied to seal a promise that was yet to be made.

Though the path was still very dark ahead, the two collective identities would be there to be a light for the other.

The meeting between the bird of starlit fire and the Prince(sse), The Gluttonous Kingdom, the King-Who-Would-Be-God, the Scorpion Queen, the Old Man, the The Farmer’s Wife, the Old West Sheriff…The Tyrant Queenling, the Thorned Princess. The ink and oil and tar. The puppet shows.

Such continued tales shall have to wait for another day.

(Did you manage to create something close to what you had initially?)

-No…but I also realized partway through this that it was not just my story to tell. I may be a part of “Hansel”, but I left out Gretel’s voice. Even though I miss some of my flow and rhythm, having to re-write this allowed for “Gretel” to have her voice heard as well. Her perspective is just as important as mine with this first part.-

-a messenger, with a name befitting-

(Speech) = ?
[Speech] = Alexei?
-Speech- = Gabriel

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