Bedtime Story

The Princess, the Tower, the Prince, the Castle

Long ago, in a mist-shrouded valley, there stood a crumbling tower where a beautiful young princess was held captive by a wicked witch. The princess wept bitter tears each day, gazing from her prison window at the dark forests below, where wolves howled mournfully.

The princess was locked away, her hair growing long as spider’s silk, her skin never feeling a single caress. The witch fed her naught but black bread and bitter herbs, giving her but dirty well water never from a fresh spring or a taste of sweet wine. The princess sat at her window and wished to that she might be saved from her misery.

One evening, when the mists grew thick as wool, a handsome traveler walked by the tower’s base. His hair was as dark as ravens’ wings, his eyes burned like crimson coals, and his smile was beautiful and wide.

“Fair princess,” called his voice of velvet and steel, “I have come to claim you. No witch can stand against my power.” The young princess clapped her hands and exclaimed: “At last my wish is granted! Come into my room, oh traveler!”

With inhuman strength, he scaled the tower’s walls his fingers finding purchase in the ancient stones. When he reached her chamber, the young princess gasped at his unearthly beauty.

“Behold, I am the Prince,” he declared, “lord of the castle on the hill. Come away with me, and you shall want for nothing.”

The princess accepted his pale hand and together they flew from the tower into the night. The prince’s black carriage, drawn by horses that left no hoofprints in the earth, took them to his castle. His home rose like a black bird stretching out above the countryside, its windows glowing like eyes watching her arrive.

The prince led the princess through halls lined with portraits whose gaze followed the young beauty, past fantastical servants who cast no shadows, under guardian drakes that growled like huge dogs.

“Now you are home, my dear,” said the Prince, and when he smiled as her eyes grew wide. “You will dwell among us. Forever.” And indeed time passed. The wolves still howl in the valley below. And the mists still crawl over the hills. But the princess never left the castle, ever ever again.

She learned, as all in Barovia learn, that this is our home forever. And for all who dwell in the valley of mists, every wish is answered with a steeper price.