They said hatred was better torture than any rods and sticks. This old word of wisdom suited perfectly fine in Maleficent’s life. If I say she was consumed by the burning fire of resentment, I am not telling a lie at all.

As my loyal readers might recall, previously, I once told you that Maleficent spent some secretive hours in the realistic realm. Nobody dared to stop her and nobody dared to follow. I wonder whether waiting has killed your curiosity and enjoyment.

Well, I wish you health and inquisitiveness.

Pushing the time backwards to 1920 and followed her out the border into the woods where the air smelled darker and the light got dimmer, as you placed your hope into the hands of humans.

She disguised herself with fogs of spiritual darkness which would cause her unseen by others. This time, she became more careful. Wherever she went, she placed a curse in the soil of the land and made the corpse grow, flourished with pure darkness, in revenge for what this realm had given her.

However, within the layer of murkiness and the aftermath of World War One, a man stole her attention completely. He was an angry man who was perceived as a psychopath or an entertaining clown by the general public. But she saw something more than those, far more than what people thought of him. She looked deep into his pupils, into the windows of his soul, there, she discovered pure evil.

When hatred met evil, it would not be coincidental.

In a pub, he was delivering a speech. His passion was greatly expressed in his dramatic body movements and enthusiastically twisting the truth. Applauses flew around the room and they gave birth to a new era of evil.

Maleficent stood beside a wall in the room, witnessing a historical moment. Suddenly she realised she wouldn’t have to spread curses at every corner but to just stand back and watch the good show.

With this man here, she could save herself some strength from revenging. He would do the job for her by destroying the entire human civilisation and the remained goodness in this realm.

Cleverly as she designed, every month, she would go out from the Fantastical boarder and placed a curse in his surrounding, giving him more power and influences as he spoke out those nonsenses and people started to believe his lies. At least, it was better to blame someone than to face the consequences of a war that was caused by the wicked in Europe.

"You need a reason? Blame the Jews! You to revenge for Germany? Go blame the Jews! Everything! Don't think! Don't blink! Just go and blame the Jews!"

What a lie, and yet, people believed in it. How pathetic.

Now, as the fruit grown and dropped on the ground, Maleficent spent all day long up in the atmosphere of the realistic realm and monitored the entire situation. Hitler thought he had the entire country under his control, nay would I declare, but, it was entirely under the control of the absolute evil, the supernatural darkness.

Beware of the devil and demons when they were trespassing the sacred land of Germany. Tears might drench the land in her suffering but righteousness came as the sun rose at the night that ended at last.

***

It was now approximately a week after that dreadful talk our hero and heroine had shared in the garden. However, undoubtedly, time hadn't washed away the unpleasantness in that memory and expectedly, a Christmas ball wouldn't do much help in that either, except given an opportunity for a miracle in a magical moment.

“Frauline, you look absolutely gorgeous!” A maid complemented while she was helping Aurora to dress and style her hair.

“Are you sure?” She asked the same question as the first time she tried on the dress.

With her hair curled up into a bun encircled with tightly done braids, her back felt nothing but the passing chill. The fabric, so closely trimmed along her shape, gave a delightful expression of her fine beauty.

“Yes, m’lady, the navy blue matches the colour of your eyes,” the maid gave her a gentle smile, re-securing her confidence.

To accomplish her fashion transformation from the medieval to the 1940s, the duty of make-up paid a great effort as that done by the hair and clothing. In the mirror, after the touch of powder and paints, her face gave her an internal shock. She didn’t look like herself anymore. It seemed like she had put on a mask. A layer of skin behind another layer of skin, hiding her real identity very well.

“M’lady, you will look splendid tonight at the Christmas ball.”

“Thank you, I appreciate your kind words,” she beamed and turned her focus back to the mirror and doubted about three things, one was the complement of the maid, two was the faith to believe that she was presentable, and three the fact that her curse was broken by Herr Hubert.

***

It was Christmas, the night that Christ was born. But it had neither peace nor love. The cry of baby Jesus was altered with the cry of human souls.

Within the castle wall, it limited a specific group of people from witnessing the sorrow pain created by their hands. Music played the familiar tone where Saint Nicholas climbed down the chimney and delivering the well-wrapped presents. The beautiful melodies flew with the falling snow as magical deer pulling the gift carts and sang, “Ho, Ho, Ho!”

The electric bulbs and splendid candles made the night as bright as those stars shining in the cosmos but, unfortunately, not bright enough to shed some lights in human’s vile heart.

“May I?” The gentlemen asked with a civilised manner that a knife sheathed deeply within.

“You may,” replied softly by the ladies with an elegance that hid a blade.

Somehow, they forgot what was happening in the world and forsook the goodness from their birth. As people passing their time in meaningless laughter and squandering the capital, sixty Jews were just sent into a gas chamber.

All in all, there was one different soul among the crowd, Aurora. You can smell it just by sniffing her presence, stand closely and try to take a deep breath.

“I thought you might not come wearing this dress. You seemed rather…..how shall I put it…... loathsome toward this piece of fabric and wouldn’t even let it stand before our eyes,” Hubert suggested humorously, trying to break the awkwardness between them ever since their last meeting.

“Why, one can never guess a lady’s mind,” she replied gracefully but sounded distant.

The ballroom was filled with important people of the government, yet, the awkwardness between Aurora and Hubert was more distinct than the presence of those people.

So abruptly, the atmosphere started to change with the incoming of a beautiful melody from Johann Strauss, as the orchestra sang gracefully of his creation, Frühlingsstimmen.

And to be, one two three, one two three, one two three…... a waltz with a beloved.

People gradually followed the beat and started the dance and so did Hubert started theirs by asking Aurora, “May I?” and her reply as, “I do.”

There was something wonderful about music. It had an unspeakable charm that caused the invisible to be visible.

At that moment, the experience of time was absent and the presence of their disagreement seemed to be lost far far away. It was just them, a gentleman with a Princess.

The Princess looked up, only to find her figure gleaming in his eyes. He smiled and forgot what identity he had imposed her to be in his heart by which she was supposed to be just a dear childhood friend.

The air became still that just a step closer, he would hear her sound of breathing and she would hear the weeping of his soul. It didn’t seem that they were dancing but she followed his steps as he moved. How she wished that time could really pause at that peculiar moment which anything was possible, that he didn't really mean what he said that night in the garden and that he really was the chosen one.

She couldn’t help but let him do magic to her emotion, to give a spell to her feeling. Whatever was happening to her at that fine moment, she hoped the same would he feel.

“Aurora, where do you learn dancing?”

“Well, I dance for reasons, as mama taught me. A lady should never dance unless, for a reason, she used to say.”

“Why, what a fond memory you have that you still remember your parent,” he beamed politely as she did to him, but both smiles contained a pinch of bashfulness.

The melody sang along with their small talks and continued to knit the string between them as they sank deeper and deeper, without any caution, into the river of sweet passion.

Was it the music or the magic that gave her the courage for a bolder step, she asked, “You know, as odd as it might sound, I came from a realm that you nor your people are familiar with. In fact, I am a -”

His gesture gave her a reasonable guess that he might desire to speak, so modestly, she paused at her speech and allowed him to speak, but more convincingly, she was scared to continue with what she was intended to say.

“Aurora, ever since you were a child, your words amaze me. Sometime, I just, can’t grasp it and find myself lost in your words,” he beamed with a charmful delight.

“Touche, sometimes it is indeed quite-”

Her reply was violently stopped along with the music as the room was shock by a great blow from the sound of a gunshot.

Everybody was panting with fear and screamed and ran around nervously, just reacted in the very same way as the people they were persecuting.

“What! What happened?” Nothing had been wrong in any ball she had ever attended to and given this new encounter, she gave a response of panic and almost a heart attack.

Directly, without any touch of beautifying the language, he replied loudly in the noise, “Aurora, grab my hand tightly and don’t let it go.”

“Pardon me! What is happening? What is the sound?” This time fear and nerve painted on her face more evidently.

Again, he announced in a greater voice, “Don’t worry, just grab my hand and don’t let go!”

Without any more waiting, he hovered over her as the sunlight hovered over the firmament and escorted her out of the ballroom.

In between, simultaneously, someone screamed, “The General! The General is shot dead!”