Long ago, there was a girl. She lived in a town of which was shrouded in fear.

That fear was

brought on by the one whos name is an instant death sentence if it is ever spoken or
written on paper. This town was not normal or in any way ordinary. It was a cursed town,
about just as much as the people who lived in it. There were no people who lived over the
age of 16, except one. This girl was smart, and she knew how to escape the violent death
that followed her 16th birthday. Her name is unknown, but when stories are shared about
her cunning escape, she is referred to as The Girl Who Lived. She made her way down the
cliffside, making sure that every step was not going to lead to an instant death at the
bottom of the mountain. She already had multiple cuts and bruises on her elbows and
knees, but that was the least of her worries. She had to get far away from that dark town
that they all dared to call home. There was still a long way to go, and no room for mistakes.
She tilted her head up to face the sun where it shone bright against the cloudless blue sky. It
was a sight she had not seen until just yesterday when she escaped from the darkness of her
town. As she looked up, she saw the ominous black cloud that hovered just above the
mountain she had climbed down and was instantly reminded of all the friends she had left
behind in her town. I must keep going she whispered to herself, and so she continued
her journey down the mountainside.

Its nightfall, and the white stars are shining like tiny specs of glitter against the pitch-black
sky. A girl is lying awake on a smooth patch of rock on the side of a mountain, gazing up at
the night sky and drawing her finger through the air as if playing connect the dots with the
stars. She lifts herself up, gathers the energy to keep moving down the mountainside and
heads towards the large black shadow blocking the moonlight that she had relied upon to
guide her through the valley. As she makes her way down the cliffside, every second getting
closer and closer to the ground, she notices that the tall black shadow becomes bigger and
bigger with every descending step she makes. Eventually, she reaches the bottom of the
mountain. She looks behind her and realises how far shes travelled, but only for a second,
as curiosity gets the best of her. She stares up at the overgrown thorny hedge that casts a
dark shadow over the ground and seems to stretch on forever. In front of the hedge, there
is a square slab of old weathered concrete with etched handwriting which reads:
If you wish to pass this wall of thorns, you must first answer Me a riddle.
I am the only King that does not wear a crown. What am I?
Next to the concrete square, there is a padlock. Although, this is no ordinary padlock. It has
four separate turning columns, each with 10 letters written around it. The girl assumes that
this is where she must put her answer to the riddle to pass through the wall of thorns. She
says the riddle repeatedly in her head, trying to decipher some hidden meaning, but nothing
comes to her mind. Eventually, she decides to rest her head and get some sleep before the
sun comes up in the morning.

It is morning now, and as the sun rises from the horizon, slowly spreading light to the dry
brown grass, the girl awakens. Immediately, she sits up and stares at the concrete slab
again, with somewhat frustration. This is stupid Ive come all this way, and now Ive got to
answer some dumb riddle I should just climb over this wall of thorns and be done with it,
she says angrily to herself. She gets up, wipes her hands on her dress and reaches out to
touch the wall of thorns, instantly regretting it. Her cry of pain echos out into the morning
sky as she stumbles back and lands on the grass again, cradling her hand in her lap. Utterly
ridiculous. She whispers to herself in pure hatred. Her hands felt as if they had just been
cut by a thousand razors, and she had barely even touched the hedge. Suddenly, as if by
magic, the hedge starts to twist and turn as if alive and the branches come together to spell
out eight words. She gets up and walks along the grass to read it all, as the hedge is so big.
The sentence it has spelled reads I wouldnt do that if I were you She grunts with anger.
I wont let a stupid old hedge beat me, she mutters to herself. She walks back over to the
concrete slab in the ground and reads the riddle over and over again in her head a million
times before flopping back onto the dry grass and giving up. A flock of twenty or so white
birds fly overhead in the shape of an arrow, suddenly reminding the girl yet again of the
friends she has left behind. Suddenly, a thought pops into her head. When she was little, she
remembers her friends telling her stories of brave heroes who were usually accompanied by
an animal. A certain story that she liked best was the story of Sekhmet, the Lion Goddess.
She also remembers that lions are sometimes referred to as King of The Jungle, yet they
are the only king who doesnt wear a crown. Then, it all clicked. She rushed over to the slab
of concrete and rolled each letter column on the padlock until it spelled out the word
Lion. There was a small squeak, and then the ground started to shake. The hedge started
to move, as if suddenly alive again, and an arch shape was created with its branches. She
stared around, looking up and down the hedge as if expecting it to move again, but when it
didnt, she got up and peered through the arch in the hedge, and what she saw was pure
beauty.

And thats the story of the Girl Who Lived, whispered an old lady sitting around a
campfire.
But what did she see? Where did it take her? squeaked a little boy who was also sitting
around the campfire with the old woman.
Nobody knows. She never told anybody, because nobody would believe her. Some say she
saw golden fruits growing on trees, liquid silver flowing through streams, the greenest grass.
and of course, the Ruby of Life that saved our town and lifted the curse that He Who Must
Not Be Named once placed upon this city, she whispered back.
But how did she get there? You said she had to climb down a mountain and everything!
screamed the boy excitedly, and he sat patiently waiting for his grand-mothers response.
With a smile on her face, she replied My dearest grand-son, one day you will learn that
sometimes the roughest of roads can lead to the most beautiful of destinations.
The End