Once upon a time, in a tower of shining moonstone at the edge of the sea lived a pale lady. No one remembered how she came to be there, it just seemed that she was always there, a glimpsed apparition at the high, high windows. Centuries passed, each with its own story about who the lady was.
In good times, she was a wise goddess who chose to dwell in solitude that she might study all the world. She listened to petitioners from afar and would give her blessing to those hearts she deemed worthy. And the unworthy who dared to disturb her were never seen or heard from evermore.
In bad times, she was a wicked demon who could lure even the most virtuous soul into enslavement at the merest glance. Those that paid the old tower any special mind often turned up missing, never to be seen or heard from evermore.
Truth usually lies in the crumbs of the stories, and any of the tellers know that it must be used sparingly, as spice.
For years beyond counting, the pale lady stayed within her tower, watching the lavender waves of that strange sea crashing against the dark stone her prison rested upon. The stars and moons danced their stately steps in the heavens, all while she observed and waited.
Because that’s what exiles do.
In addition to a few crumbs of truth, every story can be told from at least three perspectives- the one who lived it, the one who watched it, and what actually happened.
A beautiful woman of magic living alone in a tower on a sea of indigo- a smooth, graceful spire with four windows and no doors. As she was never observed coming or going, it’s easy to surmise that the lady was a prisoner.
A very dangerous prisoner, one worthy of such an exile of eons. It would take a brave adventurer to present themselves upon the doorstep and refuse to leave until they heard the voice of the lady herself. But, in time, that’s just what happened.
He came into that part of the land afoot, his face alight with something so pure and simple that it made the people of that place turn their gazes away. His features were of a young boy, but his gaze was of one who knew all things you kept in the deepest part of your heart.
The part you yourself don’t want to admit exists.
At first, he merely sat at the foot of that impossible tower and waited, content to watch the same waves and stars as the lady. For her part, she seemed content to ignore him as she had ignored all other supplicants for the past few centuries. In time, he began to sing in a voice rich with love and longing for her. Songs of enchantresses, of the beauty, grace, kindness and the wonders they worked.
The lady began coming to the windows more often, listening to the lays he sang for her.
The more of her he glimpsed, the more the songs took on descriptions of her face and form.
This pleased the lady, and she favored the bold adventurer with her smiles and glances.
He saw, but wisely directed his smiles inwards only, and kept making music to charm the lady.
How long did it take? No one can say. But of course the day came when the adventurer found himself compelled to climb to the window so that he might hear the voice of the lady.
And of course, of course, his first question was that question we all ask sooner or later.
“Lovely lady of the tower, why are you here?”
White as snow, her laughter was a chill winter wind as it gusted forth. Those slender fingers reached out to hover just beyond the face of her besotted singer. “Dearest one, I but followed my nature.”
His dark eyes dared to gaze upward into her pale ones, begging.
She withdrew her hand and the laughter stopped, though it lingered about her lips and touched those crystalline blue eyes. Leaning down, she whispered in his ear.
“Darling Puck, I have brought about the end of this world, and so must wait for the next one.”
Puck took a deep breath before lowering his dark head to the tile before her bare toes. “As you have called, so I have come. How may I serve you, O Goddess and Queen?”
And now she did lean down and run her fingers through the confusion of curls as gently as a mother would. Such a light touch, and yet the bold lad Puck who had traveled across all the ravaged land was at once powerless and fulfilled beneath it.
When her answer came, it was a whisper. “You, my good fellow, shall carry
Curiouser and Curiouser 