Page 12 - Sami Magazine - November 2020

EXCERPT TIME!
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EXCERPT TIME!
For your consideration - a snippet from an old project that was meant to be
Your paragraph text
a part of Crimson's Fractured Fairytale box set. My submission was going to

involve the lineage of one Rumplestiltskin. It wasn't chosen, but the truth is

I didn't finish in time and, unfortunately, haven't looked at it since, but I

think this is something I want to revisit. Give this tiny intro a read and tell
me what you think? Enjoy!

Sometimes people can look back on their family lineage with pride. They can
trace their ancestors back to healers, great thinkers or, if they’re truly

fortunate, royalty. Sometimes, one’s descendants leave a fine legacy – unless,
of course, one’s great grandfather was Rumpelstiltskin. Twenty-one year old
Nessa was one such girl burdened with the responsibility of carrying the
weight of a brutally infamous family history. It began in the year 600 A.D.

when her seven-times great grandfather mysteriously acquired his power
from a cloaked stranger; the very first Rumpelstiltskin became impregnated

with the power to turn straw into gold, the power to work elemental magic, as
well as a special ability called Scorch which left his hands oddly textured and
capable of making fire, heating metal and turning flesh to cinder. These

powers were passed on for generations, continuing down a long, blood-
stained, power-hungry path that led directly to Nessa.

Her powers came to her at the age of eighteen and, within a year’s time, she
found herself banished from Castell Rheol, the estate she’d known as home for
her entire life, now forced to live as a nomad while trying desperately to

escape the reputation she’d inherited. Riddled with guilt from what happened
shortly before her departure, she packed only what she needed and led Cillian,
the horse her father had given her on her 13th birthday, away from the castle

on the hill, its tallest tower emitting an acrid smoke from a long since
extinguished fire. The smoke seemed to sway back and forth, almost in a
beckoning manner, but Nessa knew there was no turning back.