As it has so many times before, it began with an apple. But this time, the apple was as ordinary as sand. The uniqueness was in the hand of the guardian that held the apple, disguised by the extremely solid ordinariness of the apple.
The princess didn’t have a chance.
The narrative required that she fall, and fall she did when she accepted the apple from that particular guardian.
They shared the apple over a pot of tea.
Intoxicated by the apple, she failed to take basic precautions. Precautions that she had been carefully taking with every bite of food or sip of drink since she was first able to walk.
The tea was not poisoned, exactly. But it was tainted by an idea. Tea has always been a very persuasive drink. And the idea fell on fertile ground as well. Ground made all the more fertile by the perfectly ordinary apple.
Now she lies in a kind of stasis, the teacup spilled in her lap, and the apple forgotten on the table.
And she will lie like this for forever and a day, or until her true love wakes her with a kiss, or until her guardian spirit Raven arrives with an axe.
An axe that Raven will have no concerns about wielding with vigor and prejudice against all who conspired to create this little situation.
Something to ponder, that.
Just how angry is Raven going to be when he finds out who has taken his favourite out of the game?
And who will he pick to test the keenness of his axe?