The Glass Coffin
The Glass Coffin — an illustrated tales story. 10 illustrated pages, free to read on Wonder Tales.
Page 1
In the floating city of Aethyr, a market threaded with cloud-silk bridges sold bottled storms and captured sunsets. Elara, a weather-weaver with eyes like storm clouds, yearned for more than fleeting beauty. Old Silas, the clockwork merchant, held secrets in his mirrored spectacles. Prince Oberon, cloaked in perpetual twilight, sought a love he could never grasp. This is the tale of Elara, Silas, and Oberon—bound by a glass coffin holding a sleeping princess, a love beyond reach, and the courage to shatter illusions.
Page 2
Elara meticulously bottled a dawn chorus, but her heart wasn't in it. "Another perfect sunrise for some lonely noble," she muttered, capping the vial. She longed for the boundless freedom beyond Aethyr, a world her parents only whispered about. Her gaze drifted towards the Whispering Woods, a forbidden forest of perpetual twilight.
Page 3
Silas, his clockwork gears whirring, approached Elara. "Yearning is a dangerous trade, weather-weaver," he creaked, polishing his mirrored spectacles. "As the philosopher Seneca said, 'Every new beginning comes from some other beginning's end.' Some doors are best left unopened." He pointed a brass finger towards the Whispering Woods, its shadows deepening. "Especially that one."
Page 4
Despite Silas's warning, Elara ventured into the Whispering Woods. The air grew heavy, the sky obscured by twisted branches laden with phosphorescent moss. A faint melody echoed through the trees, drawing her deeper. A path shimmered before her, paved with iridescent beetles.
Page 5
She came upon a clearing where Prince Oberon stood before a grand mirror, its surface swirling like liquid night. "Lost, weather-weaver?" he asked, his voice echoing. His reflection did not match his face; a twisted, sorrowful creature stared back. "Mirrors show more than we wish to see."
Page 6
"I seek not myself, but her," Oberon confessed, gesturing to a shimmering, glass coffin nestled amongst the roots of an ancient tree. Within lay a princess, eternally asleep. "She is trapped, cursed. Only true love can break the spell, or so they say."
Page 7
"True love is a fickle thing, Prince," Elara replied. Silas arrived, his clockwork legs clicking on the beetle path. "Perhaps a practical solution is in order? I believe I have just the key." He produced a tiny, intricate clockwork key. "According to Leonardo da Vinci, 'He who is not a good servant will not be a good master.' And this coffin requires a skilled hand."
Page 8
Oberon hesitated, then grasped the key. As he inserted it into the coffin's lock, his twisted reflection in the nearby mirror lunged forward. The mirror shattered, the fragments swirling into shadowy birds that attacked the coffin. "It seems," Elara shouted over the din, "that some curses prefer to remain unbroken!"
Page 9
Elara, channeling her weather-weaving power, focused her will. She wove a storm of pure light, blasting the shadowy birds back into fragments. "The problem," she declared, facing Oberon, "was never about true love, but real love! Love of self, first!" The princess stirred. Oberon, seeing his true face in Elara's eyes, wept.
Page 10
The princess awoke, not to a prince, but to herself. Oberon, finally free of his self-loathing, stepped aside. Elara, no longer yearning, discovered her true power lay not in bottling weather, but in unbottling hearts. Aethyr was not a cage but a starting point. And the love he sought was the very thing he had to give himself.
About this story
- Audience: kids (ages 6–12)
Questions and answers
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