For Lovers of Dark Fairy Tales
Excerpt from Odile, Legend of the Black Swan
1
An end, finally…
… was her only thought when the blinding light of day stung her eyelids. The sound of booted feet marching confirmed her fate. Darkness and a constant dripping noise from somewhere in the distance had been the mainstays of her existence these past few days. Such was the life of a prisoner in the dungeon of Eldwith Castle. A sideways view from the damp ground afforded one no more awareness than that. Aside from the pain which was constant.
The pains in her body from the tortures she had endured took most of her conscious thought. Too weak from starvation and rough handling, this sideways view would be her last.
What more could a siren of the dark worlds expect? Accused then convicted of every foul crime by a kingdom that feared and hated her, she was so vile even dungeon rats would not come near. They too must have heard the legend every man, woman, and child knew. A murderess at the ripe, old age of eighteen, Odile the Black had killed their beloved Prince Siegfried.
She, alone now, was the terror that was the Black Swan of Aarroughac Castle. Not even as old as her legend, the reviled sorceress would meet her end on the pyre today and terrorize the countryside no more.
Every inch of her body had been battered in such a way that she yearned for the numbing state of death. Surely, that was what the light and the footsteps meant. Her execution was nigh. One fleeting feeling of regret raced through her. To die shrieking in the witches’ fires in front of the full mass of a kingdom as a spectacle was not how she’d have planned to depart the mortal world. She was too solitary a creature for that. But if it would bring the mourning villagers peace, then so be it.
“Here she is sire.”
The footsteps stopped, replaced by voices. Each breath she took was a labor, pushing at her broken ribs. She squeezed her eyes shut against the glaring light, so accustomed now to the darkness that even the blessed sun was a misery.
“Odile of Aarroughac, sire, the black witch and murdering sorceress of the prince,” her jailor’s voice announced with a flourish.
Still, she did not stir.
“She doesn’t look to be much,” a new voice said. Something tugged at Odile’s memory at the sound. A glimmer of a pleasant kind of feeling washed through her but it could only be due to the insanity of her sorry state. The Black Swan knew nothing of pleasantness, even less of kindness. Still, through the heavy fog of pain and acceptance of her fate, curiosity pulled at her eyelids. Moving her bruised cheek a torturous fraction of an inch, she looked up.
The dark shadow of a man hovered above her, a striking silhouette blocking the glare of daylight but obscured and faceless. Her jailor grunted.
“Not anymore she’s not. The wizard’s daughter will work no more spells that is certain,” he said. Then Odile more felt than saw him move as he bent his leg back, preparing to deliver a kick to her gut. She flinched inward on reflex, causing all the agonies of her broken body to flare anew. Her cracked lips and bloodstained mouth opened on a soundless scream but the dryness of her throat made it impossible to force out anything more than a hiss. Rope dug into her wrists and ankles, the fibers crusted with blood.
The boot’s impact didn’t come though. The other man’s shadow moved in front of the guard, taking away more of the blinding sun as he stayed the guard with his arm.
“Leave her. She’s mine now, by order of the queen. I’ll finish this.”
“Whu-?”
“I said go.”
The voice was deep, commanding.
“Yes, sir.”
The dungeon master’s footsteps hurried away then faded. He left as a tarry blackness began to make up her awareness. It dripped thickly over her blurred vision.
Before she could drift completely out, as she had been between the torture sessions that the queen had ordered her to endure, the shadow man moved like the lash of a whip. Drawing a blade from the sheath on his hip, he moved quickly. The sound the metal made was shrill in the stagnant, dungeon air—cleansing. Odile would have laughed at the insanity of that thought. Her mind was slipping. Not much longer now, she told herself.
She’d expected fire, but this was closer to the end she wanted. Instead of ashes, her flesh would slowly feed the soils of the earth. That made sense. She knew the underground well and would be happy to nourish the creatures there. They were her only friends, those beasts of the darkness.
A skull of roses came up out of the pervasive black murk of her delirium with a serpent’s head sliding through its oral cavity. Like a fine weave of cloth, she could feel its scales slip past her lips, along her cheek. Then, in the vision, the reptile threaded itself through both eye sockets. A fitting home for a serpent she thought.
Her executioner stepped closer, blade lifted. Her heart leapt. One last agonizing pulse in her chest before this dark angel of mercy ended her life. His powerful outline lowered to the floor. The blade flashed and she imagined him in that split second as a lover. He would take her away from this place. That was enough to call him such. Odile, who’d never known the press of a lover’s lips, would soon know the kiss of ending. She laughed silently inside herself because all the legends about her were wrong and only she knew.
Well, one other knew her shame, but he’d fled, leaving her alone to face this moment in his stead. Now there was only the man of the shadows. His large hand clasped her shoulder then the knife tip came up and she thought no more. The serpent slithered away as the water rose. The skull flooded then submerged in death’s still lake.
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Very dark beginnings to be sure, but the way this story (and especially the romance) unfolds makes for an enticing rendering of this classic ballet tale.
Here’s look at the book description and the link, if you’d like to read more:
Pale, cold mistress of the serpent’s lair, blood red lips and coal black hair…
Enter the world of the Black Swan, a dark and seductive tale where things are not always as they seem. Odile is the reviled villainess of Aarroughac, a castle inhabited by the evil wizard, Count Rothebart. After a sinister magic sweeps through the land and results in death, Odile is accused of the crime. Von Rothebart vanishes, leaving her to face the wrath of an entire kingdom alone until a mysterious stranger with powers of his own comes along.
With vengeance as his guide, Lord Azarus di Caspari hunts an ancient curse. When he crosses paths with the Black Swan of legend, he immediately makes up his mind to use the temptress’s magic for his own devices. But when Azarus learns that the story of the sorceress might not be true, disappointment gives way to desire. Spells are cast and secrets are revealed, but can love exist in the shadow of two dark hearts such as theirs?
Are the tales of the Black Swan true? Is she a murderess and an evil sorceress to be feared or is she the only thing standing between true evil and the fall of a kingdom? Only time will tell as the magical story of the Black Swan unfolds.
Odile, Legend of the Black Swan is a stand-alone fantasy, fairy tale romance inspired by the legendary ballet, Swan Lake.
An Enchanted Lands Romance.
18+ This book contains adult scenes, sex and some violence. If these things offend you please don’t buy this book.
Writing these ballet story retellings is a passion of mine. I only have two of them out currently, but I hope to write more in the future. I’ve been working on serializing the first one, Snow Maiden, on Ream Stories with plans to bring the full read-a-long experience of it over here to Substack soon. I’d like to do the same for Odile, as well. We shall see. Till next time, Book Monsters, I’m wishing you many, magical, story adventures!
Amanda V Shane