Biography
Cinderella: The Glass Bride
After the ball, the prince searched for the girl who vanished in a shimmer of frost. But when he found her, she wasn’t breathing. Her heart, fragile and transparent, beat only when light passed through it. He married her anyway, terrified to lose what he couldn’t understand.
By GoldenSpeech3 months ago in Chapters
The Frozen Heir
Years after her passing, children born under the northern lights began to show strange gifts. Their breath crystallized air; their tears froze on contact. Scientists called it mutation. Elders called it inheritance. In Arendelle’s mountains, a shrine of ice never melts. Inside it stands a sculpture of Elsa—lifelike, untouched by time. The inscription below reads: “She became what she feared: eternal.”
By GoldenSpeech3 months ago in Chapters
Pocahontas and the River That Forgot Her Name
Long after her story was told by others, the river she once sang to turned black with silt. Fishermen say it moves against the current, dragging offerings back to shore. At dusk, they see a woman made of mist walking its edge, her lips blue, her eyes weeping ink. They call her the Keeper of Forgotten Truths. When the wind blows inland, the trees whisper her true name—one no man has written.
By GoldenSpeech3 months ago in Chapters
Belle and the Book That Bit Back
After marrying the prince, Belle built a library larger than any cathedral. But one book, “Les Mots Perdus,” refused to stay shut. When opened, its words rearranged into living shapes, crawling across walls. Those who read it forget their names, speaking only in quotes. The last librarian sealed it behind glass, but visitors claim to hear faint whispers through the case: “Read me, and you’ll remember everything.”
By GoldenSpeech3 months ago in Chapters
The Last Ember of Agrabah
When Aladdin freed the Genie, a star blinked out. Every century, Agrabah grows a little darker, as if losing its source of light. Priests once said the lamp didn’t hold a spirit—it held balance. And when freedom came, chaos took root. In the desert’s heart, a faint blue glow still burns beneath the sand, whispering: “You wished for this.”
By GoldenSpeech3 months ago in Chapters
The Tangled Ghost
After her death, her tower was abandoned—but villagers say golden threads kept spilling from the windows, glowing faintly in moonlight. The strands grew into the forest, wrapping trees, rivers, even graves. Some say they feed on sorrow, that every tear strengthens them. No one cuts them anymore. They say if you follow the hair long enough, you’ll find the skull of a girl who still hums when the wind blows.
By GoldenSpeech3 months ago in Chapters
The Shadow Under the Bayou
When Tiana’s Palace opened, people said the gumbo had a taste of dreams. But locals whispered that she’d made one last deal—one last favor owed. At the corner table, shadows gather even when the candles are out. Sometimes, the soup steams red, and a deep voice hums: “Are you satisfied?” Tiana never answers, but every night, she sets that same table—just in case he comes back.
By GoldenSpeech3 months ago in Chapters
The Princess of the Sleeping Woods
When Prince Phillip kissed Aurora, history says she awoke. But the royal physician’s logs tell another version: her eyes opened, yes—but they were black as ink. She spoke with voices that weren’t hers. The court burned her bed, destroyed the spindle, and declared the story “happily ever after.” Yet, travelers near the ruins swear they see a woman wandering with a spindle in her hand, murmuring, “I can’t wake up.”
By GoldenSpeech3 months ago in Chapters
The Mirror’s Second Reflection
Centuries after the Queen’s death, her mirror was unearthed from castle ruins—its surface fractured but still whispering. Scholars found that the mirror didn’t show beauty, but jealousy itself. Each reflection shimmered with what the viewer secretly desired. When one historian stared too long, she saw her face fade and another—smiling, younger—take her place. The artifact was sealed again, labeled simply: Do Not Look.
By GoldenSpeech3 months ago in Chapters
The Clockmaker of Arendelle
After Elsa’s reign began, Arendelle’s royal clock tower started to move on its own—marking hours that no one lived through. Its maker, a humble craftsman named Elior, confessed that he built it to “measure the moments between heartbeats.” He died days later, the clock still ticking—but backward. Today, locals say if you stand beneath it at midnight, you’ll hear it whisper: “You are running out of time.”
By GoldenSpeech3 months ago in Chapters
