Chapter Text
A long time ago in a far off land…
In a castle tucked against a mountainside, surrounded by a great forest, lived a prince. His mother, the queen, was a good sorceress whose abilities had helped their kingdom win a war, though she lost her homeland in the process. During the war she fell for a traveling tradesman and when the war was over, they were married and had a son. Restoring peace to the land was a long and difficult process, but they were happy.
The young prince, however, was not.
He had magic flowing through him, like his mother, but rather than use it for peace, he sought greatness. His grandfather had been a great warrior and the boy dreamed of being like him. Against his mother’s wishes, he trained himself in dark magic. As time went on, his power grew, but it was not enough. Every night he prayed to grow stronger.
One night, a powerful sorcerer appeared before him, clad in grey, flowing robes, surrounded by an aura of dark energy. The prince was in awe.
“Do you wish to have power like mine?” the stranger asked.
“Yes,” the prince replied, “I’d give anything!”
“Anything, you say?”
“Yes!”
The sorcerer grinned, and as he did so, his features twisted, revealing a disfigured old man with eyes like bottomless pits. The prince knew that face from storybooks but never believed he was real: the dark sorcerer known only as Snoke.
“So be it.”
He held out bony hands and a red mist spilled from his fingertips and through the castle. The prince watched in horror as everyone the mist touched was turned into one object or another. Brooms, clocks, pots and pans, books, lamps, enchanted to continue their task but unspeaking, unfeeling. The family’s guards, six skilled warriors and their captain, were turned into suits of armor.
“What have you done?” the prince cried.
“I am simply giving you what you asked for,” the sorcerer replied. “For you cannot have true power with such attachments. You will be my apprentice, and will need only me to guide you.”
“I take it back!” The prince tried to plead with him, but it was too late. The sorcerer turned his magic on him; the red mist surrounded the young man and he screamed, curling in on himself as he began to change.
As this took place, the queen was returning from a journey to a neighboring kingdom. She saw her household transformed and was too late to prevent it, but the queen would not allow this creature to have her son. She stepped forward and from her hands beamed a white light.
She cast the white light over her son, hoping to reverse the dark magic, but the sorcerer’s curse had already begun to take effect. The prince’s body shifted and transformed with sickening pops and cracks. All the while, he screamed, and the sorcerer only laughed.
“Foolish woman. He’s mine now. The dark power in him is too strong and soon it will be mine to control.”
“You’re wrong,” she told him, defiance in her eyes. “I know him, and there is light in him, too.”
She was as wise as she was powerful and she knew there was no use trying to reverse what had already been done to the prince. But she could offer him hope, a way out, if he should seek it.
She removed her necklace and tore off the gem that hung from it – a red crystal the size of a chestnut. She held it in one hand and with the other, motioned to her son. A thin trickle of golden light slipped from his hunched form and into the crystal, filling it until it glowed.
“What have you done?!” shrieked the sorcerer.
“As long as the goodness in him is preserved here, he cannot be yours. He is selfish now, but he can change. When he learns to care for another more than himself, your hold on him will break completely.”
“And if he doesn’t?”
“Then he is yours.”
“You aren’t as foolish as I thought. How strong is your magic, though? How long can you preserve the light in him?”
“My spell will last ten years. More than enough time. Perhaps you should find another apprentice.”
A sinister smile spread across the sorcerer’s face.
“No. I will wait.”
The mist withdrew from around the prince and he slumped to the ground, unconscious. Then like a gust of wind, the sorcerer disappeared and slipped into the nearest village to lie in wait, disguising himself as an ordinary old man.
The queen cast one last glance to her son. There was nothing more she could do for him. First she turned to the suit of armor that had once been the captain of their guard. With a wave of her hand, the captain had a mind and voice once more, though she was still trapped in that form. She told the captain all that had happened, so that she might help the prince. Then the queen set the crystal on a pedestal and placed a glass cover over it to protect it. She gathered her things and left for a family home far away, where she would join her husband and await news of their son’s fate.
When the prince woke, he was alone. The castle was silent, except for the occasional sweeping of an enchanted broom or creak of armor. He stood and stumbled to the window, hoping to see someone, anyone on the grounds. No one was there, but when he caught a glimpse of his own reflection in the glass, he recoiled in horror. It was then that he remembered what had happened: his wish, the sorcerer, the curse. He was overcome with anger and despair. With a scream, he reached out with his power and slammed the castle gates, closing himself inside. He shut the main doors and pulled all the curtains over the windows. Then, in the darkness, he noticed the crystal glowing bright red in its case. He remembered his mother’s voice, what she’d told the sorcerer. And now she was gone, too. Enraged, he took his sword and fled to his quarters, where he wrecked everything he could get his hands on.
He held no hope for the curse being broken, had no desire to seek out one to break it. And so his self-imposed exile began.
He was a monster now, and monsters cared for no one.