Wings of the Forgotten ~ Harry Hook

19 YEARS AGO, FOUR YEARS BEFORE THE BARRIER ~

Maleficent, a fairy - blessed with staggering beauty, laid unmoving on the plush grass of The Moors. Her great black wings stretched out beneath her, feathers glistening as they caught the fading light of the setting sun. But her attention was not on the world around her—it was on the small bundle cradled in her arms.

Wrapped tightly in a silken blanket was a newborn, with dark hair that shimmered in the evening glow. Tiny, delicate wings, folded beneath him, twitched as he slept peacefully, unaware of the world that would soon come to know his name.

For this was no ordinary child. Born of power and legacy, he was destined for greatness, for fear, for magic.

And his name, was Dorian.

He was the son of Maleficent, born from the union of shadow and flight. In him lived the potential for both light and darkness, for a future shaped by forces beyond his control. He was her heart and soul—her greatest love, and perhaps, her greatest challenge.

As Maleficent gazed down at her sleeping son, her fierce green eyes softened. She knew the path ahead would not be easy. The world was a dangerous place for one as unique as Dorian, and already she felt the weight of what he would face. But as she gently brushed a finger across his tiny forehead, she made a silent vow.

No matter what, she would protect him.

~

The stone walls of Maleficent's tower held an eerie quiet, broken only by the soft coos of the infant in her arms. Dorian, her son, rested peacefully against her chest, his tiny wings wrapped beneath his blanket. He was just a few months old, and though he had no sense of the world around him yet, Maleficent knew what awaited him. The weight of his lineage, of who he was, would follow him always.

"You will grow strong, my little raven," Maleficent whispered, gently brushing his dark hair from his forehead. "Stronger than they could ever imagine."

There was a light knock at the door.

Maleficent's gaze flicked toward it, her expression instantly guarded. But when the door creaked open, revealing Aurora, the sharp edge in her demeanor softened—if only a little. The princess stepped inside, her golden hair glowing in the dim light, a gentle smile playing on her lips.

"Godmother," Aurora greeted warmly, her voice soft. She had always called Maleficent that, ever since she was a child, and Maleficent, though she would never admit it aloud, had grown fond of the term. "Is this him?" Aurora asked, her eyes brightening as they landed on the tiny bundle in Maleficent's arms.

"This is Dorian," Maleficent replied, her voice calm yet protective. "My son."

Aurora took a step closer, her curiosity evident as she peered at the small face tucked beneath the blanket. "He's beautiful," she whispered, her gaze softening with warmth. "May I...?"

For a brief moment, Maleficent hesitated. Dorian was hers, and hers alone. She had never allowed anyone this close to him, this was The Queen of The Moors first tume seeing him. But as she looked at Aurora—her goddaughter, the one person who had always seen beyond her darkness—Maleficent gave a small nod.

Aurora's face lit up, and she carefully reached out, gently cradling the baby in her arms. "Oh, godmother," she breathed, her voice full of wonder as she held the infant close. "He's perfect."

Maleficent watched them closely, her eyes never leaving Dorian. There was an unfamiliar warmth in the room now, a softness she rarely allowed herself to feel. Aurora rocked the baby gently, her smile tender as she cooed at him.