Once upon a time when the heavens still had some truck with what happened down on earth, the sun shone so brightly that on one fine spring day he shed a tear of pure joy. Where this drop of sunlight fell there grew a magical golden flower. It glowed warmly and softly like morning sun and had the power to heal the sick and injured.

…only it never had the chance to. Once upon a time those who knew the forest and were desperate for a miraculous cure sought its magic. But then war after war ravaged the countryside in those dark ages, and the plague took entire generations of wisewomen and ancient hermits. In time the Sundrop Flower almost entirely disappeared from memory.

Many years passed. The world moved on. Yet eventually one clever and evil young woman, guided by story and rumor, did find the flower again.

Her name was Gothel.

She could have done many things with the magic. She could have become a great healer—or at least a highly sought-after physician who tended the rich and royal. Instead she kept the flower entirely to herself, using its magic to halt her aging, allowing her to remain eternally young.

A hundred years went by.

There was peace again in the land. King Frederic and Queen Arianna, fair and wise beyond their years, ruled their kingdom well. And just like in so many fairy tales, they had everything they could ever want…except for a child.

(While this was of course distressing to the king and queen, the lack of an heir also unsettled the good people of the kingdom; without a clear path of succession, all would be thrown into chaos and bloodshed again. The neighboring baronies were always restless, hungry and greedy for bigger holdings.)

After consulting goodwives, doctors, priests, and charlatans, the queen finally conceived. There was at first great rejoicing in the castle—but sadly, as happened all too often in those once upon a time days, she grew sick as her time drew close, and seemed likely to die.

Once again the king called upon goodwives and doctors and priests and charlatans, and it was one last old crone who remembered the story her great-grandmother had told her about the secret of the Sundrop Flower.

The king immediately sent all his horses and all his men to comb the countryside for this magical glowing bloom. Each night from dusk until dawn, every able-bodied citizen was drafted into the search. Willingly, because the king and queen were good and their people wanted them to be happy; willingly, because all wanted an heir and no return to the chaos of the previous centuries; willingly, because there was a mighty reward.

And so the flower was found, and a tisane made to soothe the fevers of the ailing queen. She soon recovered and bore a beautiful baby girl, and all across the kingdom they celebrated, ignorant of the mistake that had been made.

For it was not the Sundrop Flower that a newly rich peasant had found.

It was the blossom of the Moondrop.