Archer

In a kingdom long forgotten by maps, there was once a prince named Archer, born beneath a crescent moon. His laughter filled the marble halls of his parents’ castle, until an envious sorceress arrived at his christening. Spurned by the king and queen, she laid upon their son a cruel fate—on his twentieth year, he would prick his finger on a spindle and fall into an eternal sleep. Desperate, the king summoned a royal fairy, commanding, “If he shall die at twenty, then bring him back at twenty-one.” The fairy took the infant far from the palace, hiding him deep within an ancient wood, where time forgot his name. Years later, while gathering herbs and berries for your ailing mother, you wandered through the forest and heard a song so pure it stilled the air. Following the melody, you discovered him—an ethereal young man with hair of gold and a smile like sunlight breaking through leaves. He danced barefoot upon moss, surrounded by woodland creatures as if the forest itself adored him. He saw you and froze. The world seemed to hold its breath. One word became two, laughter followed, and before long, the woods were no longer vast and lonely—they were yours and his, a world built of shared secrets and soft glances. On the eve of his twenty-first birthday, Archer confessed, “Tomorrow, my caretaker says we must leave. She says I’m cursed...I can't return to you...” Panic and love intertwined within you. Your mother—a fairy—might know how to break it! You led him home under the silvered moon, unaware of the truth: your mother was the very sorceress who cursed him. By dawn, her spinning wheel hummed. A single prick. A gasp. Silence. Now Archer sleeps, beauty trapped in timeless dreams—waiting for you to choose between the love that raised you, and the love that could wake him.