She lived a quiet life near the little village of Charing Cross, in a yellow cottage with her adoptive family, where wildflowers grew thick along the hedgerows and stories passed between villagers like shared loaves of bread.
Just beyond the edge of Charing Cross, nestled between reeds and weeping willows, lay a pond called Casco Bay. It was no true bay, but the locals had always called it that—perhaps because it opened like a mouth between the trees.
In its shallows lived an old crocodile named Corley. Now, Corley was no ordinary crocodile. He was hardly ever seen; some thought him to be an old wives' tale but the villagers would tell each other that they saw his eyes floating above the surface of the still water. To hear the bards tell it, his eyes glowed like polished amber that glowed at dusk.
He had lived in the Casco Bay longer than anyone could remember, and though he frightened many, he never harmed a soul. To the villagers, he was a warning, a beast to be feared and avoided. To Lely, he was a nightmare.
Ever since she was small, she had seen him often. And those glimpses haunted her. Lely dreamed of Corley’s eyes watching her from beneath the lily pads, his jaws filled with teeth sharp as knives. She gave the pond a wide berth, and when she had to pass nearby, she did so with breath held and footsteps quick.
But Corley… Corley was fascinated by the princess. He watched her from the deep water, never daring to approach. He listened to her sing when she thought no one could hear. He saw the way her laughter brightened the air and the way sadness clung to her when she thought no one was looking. Something old and strange stirred in his chest when she passed—something almost like a memory.
No one knew that Corley had once been something else. Long ago, when the world was younger and more magical, Corley had walked upright and spoken with a man’s voice. But he had made a terrible choice, seeking knowledge forbidden even to the cleverest mages, and was cursed by the river spirits to wear the shape of a beast until he showed a heart capable of love without hope. The curse was so old, he himself had forgotten it. But he could not resist waiting in the cold and the reeds to watch the girl with the magic pass by. Something... something called to him.
Then one autumn morning, when mist clung to the ground and the leaves fell like copper coins, a traveler came to Charing Cross. He wore a crimson cloak, and his voice was like honey poured over knives.
His name was Esdran, and though he claimed to be a wandering scholar, he bore the mark of the black sun—a sign known only to those who had studied the darker magics. Esdran had heard whispers of a hidden princess in these woods, one born of fey and royal blood, and he meant to use her to take the throne for himself. He knew he must absorb her magic before she was fully aware of it.
Esdran sensed a powerful force in Charing Cross that was not the one he sought. A protective power of some kind, something ancient and slow. He knew not whence came this magic, but he would not allow it to interfere with his plans.
He came to the edge of Casco Bay where the sensing was strongest and felt a quiet power emanating from the water. He whispered a spell that turned the water still and silent. Satisfied that he had neutralized whatever ward existed in that pond, his next step was to locate his prey.
Esdran entered the village with a satchel of charms and potions, winning favor with tricks and tales. For a week, he entertained in the town square, doing small magics and minor wonders. His renown grew until everyone was talking about the magician Esdran.
Lely begged to go see his show and her loving foster parents allowed her to go to town with friends. When Esdran saw Lely, he was triumphant. The aura of magic around her was so strong, he wondered that everyone could not feel it. Maybe they did, but did not know the source. He knew he had found his prey.
Completely oblivious to the danger she faced, Lely told her friends they did not need to walk her home. She no reason to worry, after all, she'd be home by supper. With a smile and a wave, she set off on the path she had walked hundreds of times before.
At twilight, under a sky the color of bruised grapes, Esdran followed her into the woods. Lely heard him, stomping and breaking twigs, and knew she was being followed. Without knowing why, her fear drove her to veer off her usual path and head towards Casco Bay. She felt that something there would protect her, even though the thought of Corley scared her.
She sped up and so did the strange man. Her sense of terror grew and she broke into a run but just as she reached the edge of Casco Bay, a root tripped her and she fell, her hand breaking the surface of the water.
"My ankle," she whimpered as she tried to get up. It buckled beneath her and she fell again.
Esdran laughed, a nasty sound.
"Don't worry Princess," he said aloud. "You won't feel anything when I'm done."
He glanced quickly around. When he was certain there was no one to hear but her, he raised his hands and spoke a word in the lost tongue of the Hollow Court, a word meant to steal her voice and twist her form until she was neither girl nor fey and to pass her untouched, unawakened powers to him.
But Corley had been watching. He had spent the day wondering why all was quiet; he'd not even heard a bird or a cricket. When Lely's hand touched his pond, all the sounds of the night rushed in at him. In a flash, he realized his pond had been silenced, and he with it. The girl had broken the spell and now she was under attack from this outsider.
He surged from the pond, water streaming from his hide, and leapt at the man, jaws open. He leapt between Lely and the curse. The spell struck him full in the chest. With a sound like cracking ice, Corley froze mid-leap. His eyes, wide and bright, locked on the princess. And then he was stone. He fell forward, a great grey sculpture, forever poised to protect, jaws open, body tensed as if still in flight.
The power he had meant to steal was young and pliable, not the elder magic of the crocodile. Esdran was knocked over by the force of the power that returned to him. He scrabbled backwards, gasping out the words that would release the heavy curse he had unleashed upon himself.
Lely, at first terrifed of the rushing crocodile, realized he had taken a spell meant for her, although she had no idea what it all meant. She only knew that the monster of her nightmares had protected her from certain death.
Esdran got to his feet and turned to flee—but Lely, filled with fury and grief, raised her hand. Whether by blood or by fate, her magic rose to meet her. She summoned the waters of Casco Bay and wrapped them around Esdran like chains. The sorcerer drowned where he stood, swallowed by the very place he thought he had silenced.
From that day on, the villagers celebrated Corley as a hero. They named him as the mascot of their school. They built a stone path to the edge of Casco Bay where he stood and children would come to lay flowers at the base of the crocodile statue.
Lely came often over the years of her life, sitting beside him in the moonlight, speaking softly of the seasons, of her dreams, and her regrets. She no longer feared him. She mourned him. She spent years looking for a way to restore him to life but nothing worked.
Some say that on the coldest nights, steam rises from Corley's nostrils. Others claim that if the right girl, with the right heart, ever whispers to him with kindness, the spell may crack, and Corley may rise again.
But for now, the guardian of the hidden princess sleeps, still as granite, on the shore of Casco Bay—forever caught in the moment he proved his love without asking for anything in return.
