It took some serious thought, but I've finally found a set of characters obscure enough
On the nest of blankets and pillows, Electra slept. Her sleep had lasted long, far longer than anyone knew. All who remembered that she lived, that she slept, were gone now: the old woman, the princess, the magician. All were dead or vanished, and with no one to speak of her, no one spreading the word of a young girl needing to be awakened, she stayed there in her comfortable little nest, sound asleep in the warmth and monotony. And as she slept, she dreamed.
As is their nature, the nightmares came. She dreamt of massacres: knives drenched in blood, dripping red trails along the floors as the angry or insane hunted out their next victim. She dreamt of falling: great, towering cliffs and sharp jagged rocks below, viewed through a haze as her stomach clenched and tried to jump through her throat. She dreamt of loss: those she remembered were leaving her, and even as she tried to reach for them they vanished in the wind. But when fate was feeling truly cruel, when the horses black as night carried their heaviest burdens, she dreamed of love.
She dreamt of the love that would save her, the love that would wake her from the deathlike grip of slumber. His face was clear to her: she knew its every line and hollow, the spark of life in his eye and the flash of his grin. She could see the time when he would find her and release her from her prison. She could feel the warm rush of gratitude filling her heart at her first sight of him; and she could see his face when he recognized the love in her eyes, could see his profound feeling of...disappointment. For he who woke her would gain her undying love, her faithfulness, and her hand in marriage. Such was the enchantment upon her: by her eighteenth birthday she must marry the prince who woke her, or die. And just as she knew that he would be unable to let her die if he could prevent it, she also knew that he would never return the love she felt for him.
He would not let her die, but saving her would kill his heart. For he loved a princess whose beauty scorched the very soul, a beauty that Electra could never hope to match. She was not even a princess--simply a girl who accidentally got in the path of a spell that was meant for one. In the wrong place at the wrong time, she was now condemned to a life where any path she chose would end in pain. If she failed to marry her prince, the years she spent in her youthful sleep would rush into her all at once, draining the life from her body until all of its functions were too strained to continue. But if they wed, she would live to see the man that she loved broken by the strain of living without the one he truly cared for.
She slept, and longed to wake. She slept, and feared the waking. She slept, and dreamt of love.
As is their nature, the nightmares came. She dreamt of massacres: knives drenched in blood, dripping red trails along the floors as the angry or insane hunted out their next victim. She dreamt of falling: great, towering cliffs and sharp jagged rocks below, viewed through a haze as her stomach clenched and tried to jump through her throat. She dreamt of loss: those she remembered were leaving her, and even as she tried to reach for them they vanished in the wind. But when fate was feeling truly cruel, when the horses black as night carried their heaviest burdens, she dreamed of love.
She dreamt of the love that would save her, the love that would wake her from the deathlike grip of slumber. His face was clear to her: she knew its every line and hollow, the spark of life in his eye and the flash of his grin. She could see the time when he would find her and release her from her prison. She could feel the warm rush of gratitude filling her heart at her first sight of him; and she could see his face when he recognized the love in her eyes, could see his profound feeling of...disappointment. For he who woke her would gain her undying love, her faithfulness, and her hand in marriage. Such was the enchantment upon her: by her eighteenth birthday she must marry the prince who woke her, or die. And just as she knew that he would be unable to let her die if he could prevent it, she also knew that he would never return the love she felt for him.
He would not let her die, but saving her would kill his heart. For he loved a princess whose beauty scorched the very soul, a beauty that Electra could never hope to match. She was not even a princess--simply a girl who accidentally got in the path of a spell that was meant for one. In the wrong place at the wrong time, she was now condemned to a life where any path she chose would end in pain. If she failed to marry her prince, the years she spent in her youthful sleep would rush into her all at once, draining the life from her body until all of its functions were too strained to continue. But if they wed, she would live to see the man that she loved broken by the strain of living without the one he truly cared for.
She slept, and longed to wake. She slept, and feared the waking. She slept, and dreamt of love.