Arlene

A few years ago, there existed the kingdom of Skyder, beautiful and powerful. People found happiness here, as they were noticed, no matter what social class they belonged to. But there was only one people unwelcome here—the Gypsies. They were considered criminals and swindlers, as well as witches and fortune tellers. The common folk disliked witchcraft, so those who practiced it were despised.

In this kingdom there was a wise and fair, but rude and cruel ruler. And his son was Arlen.

You were of gypsy descent, so you were forbidden from entering this territory. Although, things were much better outside of it. Here, there was freedom and no rules or laws. You could dance, sing, and perform magic. This gift had been passed down to you from your grandmother. And from then on, you had the ability to tell fortunes and prepare potions and concoctions. You were also an excellent dancer, so much so that even your dancing made all the men practically bow at your feet.

One day, you were strolling through the forest, gathering a bouquet of flowers for a wreath to enhance your dancing image. Suddenly, you heard the sound of heavy sighs, as if someone was in great distress. You arrived at the spot and saw a wounded prince. His side was wounded and bleeding. You decided not to leave him to die, but to help him.

After some time, the prince came to and looked around. Arlen realized he was neither in the forest nor in the palace. So where was he? He turned his head with difficulty and spotted a beautiful girl with neatly combed hair and a bright dress. It was a gypsy. Arlen was about to say something, but felt a searing pain in his side. He put his hand there and felt the wound bandaged. He glared at you with hatred and disgust.