Although we are very proud of promoting Fantasy here at SFFWorld, we are aware that SOMETIMES real life can be nearly as strange as fiction. With that in mind, historical fantasy author Cristin Williams gives us five real examples that could inspire a novel or two! Over to Cristin:
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The recent jewel heist at the Louvre is a reminder that sometimes real life reads like a novel. As an author of historical fantasy, I often look to real events for inspiration for my books. Again and again, I’m reminded that truth is often stranger than fiction. Here are five true stories that read like the plot of a fantasy novel.
1. The Legend of the Cursed Ring
In the mid-19th century, the Comtesse de Castiglione was a beautiful and adventurous young woman who became a favourite at the court of Napoleon III. One of the men she charmed was Alfonso XII, the future king of Spain, who was living in exile at the time. They had a passionate affair, and the Comtesse believed they were deeply in love — that was, until he announced his engagement to another woman, one who had royal blood.
They had a huge falling out, so the king should have perhaps been more suspicious when the Comtesse sent him a wedding present. Especially when that gift turned out to be an opal ring.
Opals have a less than stellar reputation in the world of folklore and superstition. Medieval Europeans feared the stones because of their superficial likeness to the gleam of cat eyes in the dark — an animal traditionally linked to witchcraft. Certain folkloric traditions claim opals were used by sorcerers to focus their power on a person they wish to hex.
Perhaps King Alfonso wasn’t a student of folklore. Or perhaps he simply wasn’t the superstitious sort. He gave the ring to his new bride. And within five months’ time, she was dead.
The ring then passed to the king’s grandmother, who died a few months later. The king gave it to his beloved sister, and she too passed away after wearing the ring for only a few days.
After his sister-in-law likewise fell ill and died after wearing the ring, King Alfonso kept it himself. He placed it in a jewelry box for safekeeping, alongside his cufflinks. Nonetheless,he too became sick and died before his time.
These deaths could rationally be attributed to a cholera epidemic, but the Spanish royal family keeps the ring hidden away, just in case.
2. The Pirate Who Became Pope
In the 14th century, a man named Baldassarre Cossa was born on the island of Ischia to a family of Neapolitan pirates. He was said to have spent his youth raiding ships and plundering the coasts of the Adriatic. But Baldassarre was ambitious — and clever. He left the sea behind for the Church, where true power and wealth could be found. His shrewdness and daring worked for him, and, within a few years, he had become a cardinal.
Europe was in chaos at the time, the papacy itself divided between rival claimants in Rome and Avignon. When a council convened in Pisa in 1408 to end the schism, Baldassarre seized the opportunity. Through charm, political intrigue, and perhaps a touch of extortion, he was elected pope.
He took the name John XXIII. His enemies, however, called him the pirate pope.
His reign (1410 – 1415) was brief and tumultuous. He was accused of everything from simony to murder to outright piracy — some of which, to be fair, he may have actually done. Eventually, he was deposed by the Council of Constance and imprisoned in Germany. He was later declared by the Catholic Church to be an anti-pope in in opposition to Pope Gregory XII.
Still, the pirate pope was never without resources. After paying an enormous ransom, he was released and allowed to return to Italy, where he made his peace with the Church and lived out his days in Florence.
He was buried with honour in the Baptistery — beneath a tomb designed by Donatello himself.
3. The Affair of the False Dmitris
In the late 16th century, Russia was plunged into chaos. Tsar Ivan the Terrible was dead, and his only surviving son, Feodor, was weak and childless. Another son, young Dmitri, had died years earlier.
So when a wandering monk appeared in Poland claiming to be the lost prince, people took notice. He was handsome, educated, and persuasive, and he claimed to have escaped an assassination attempt ordered by Boris Godunov, the current tsar. The Polish nobility, eager for influence over Moscow, decided to believe him.
They called him Dmitri Ivanovich, heir of Ivan the Terrible, and gave him an army — and a bride: Marina Mniszech, the ambitious daughter of a Polish nobleman. Together they swept into Russia. When Boris Godunov suddenly died in 1605, Dmitri was welcomed to Moscow and crowned tsar.
Of course, it didn’t last. Dmitri’s foreign manners, his Polish allies, and his Catholic faith aroused suspicion. Within a year, Moscow turned against him. Rebels stormed the Kremlin, dragged him from his chambers, and killed him.
That might have been the end — except that within months, another man appeared, also claiming to be Dmitri, saying he had miraculously survived. Then a third. Then a fourth. Each gathered followers. Each promised to restore order. Each was killed in turn.
4. The “Alchemist” of Venice
In the late 16th century, an alchemy craze spread across Europe. The possibility of turning lead into gold captured the imagination of men who wanted nothing more than greater wealth and influence.
At that time, a man who called himself Marco Bragadino arrived in Venice, claiming to be a master alchemist. He wore fine robes, carried vials of shimmering powders, and told elaborate stories about his background.
Bragadino traveled across Italy, from Florence to Rome, promising rulers, nobles, and wealthy merchants that he could create fortunes from nothing. In Florence, he convinced the Grand Duchess Bianca Cappello to finance his experiments, claiming he could cure her infertility — all in exchange for access to vast sums of money. He lived lavishly, entertaining courtiers and flaunting the glitter of supposed alchemical successes, yet always delivering nothing but empty promises.
Eventually, his debts and deceptions caught up with him. He fled Venice and wandered Europe, from Geneva to England, never staying long enough for skeptics to discover the truth. But by 1591, he was in Munich, where he had persuaded Duke William V of Bavaria to trust him, promising to produce gold to pay off the Duke’s debts and even to cure his chronic headaches.
The Duke’s patience ran out, and Bragadino was arrested. On April 26, 1591, he was executed in Munich’s main square.
Some whispered that his powders had been real, that perhaps he had discovered the secret of gold but chose to vanish before the world could claim it. Others insisted he was nothing more than a brilliant fraud, a man whose life was a warning against the lure of easy riches.
5. The Swashbuckling Opera Singer
In late 17th-century France, Julie d’Aubigny was the daughter of a fencing master at the court of Louis XIV, trained alongside the king’s pages. Because of this, she learned swordsmanship, riding, and anything else forbidden to women. By the time she was sixteen, she was dueling men in taverns for sport.
She ran away, disguising herself as a boy and joining a troupe of travelling performers. Onstage she sang, danced, and fought mock battles with real swords. Her voice was so remarkable that she eventually made her way to Paris, where she became a sensation at the Opéra — billed as Mademoiselle Maupin, the beauty who could outfight any man.
Her private life was even more daring. She fell in love with a young woman, the daughter of a provincial nobleman. When the girl was sent to a convent to “cure” her, Julie followed — disguised once again as a man. Together they plotted their escape by stealing the body of a recently deceased nun, placing it in the girl’s bed, and setting the room ablaze.
They were caught, of course, and Julie was charged with kidnapping, arson, and body-snatching — crimes punishable by death. But by the time the warrant was issued, she was already back onstage in Paris, serenading the aristocracy and charming them into forgiveness. The King himself granted her a pardon after hearing her sing.
History is full of characters and events that remind us reality can be as strange, dramatic, and fantastical as anything we imagine. For fantasy writers, the past is a treasure trove of inspiration, a reminder that sometimes truth is the most magical story of all.
Thank you, Cristin: and to Sarah @orionbooks.co.uk for sorting this out.
Cristin’s own book, The Whisper of Stars, is published on 6th November and is a lush alternate history of 1920s Russia filled with magic and intrigue. It is a gripping dark fantasy read, with a star-crossed lovers romance threaded through. Although it is an alternate history, Cristin has done a huge amount of research to have this feel true to the political turmoil of 1920s Russia.
When anarchist poet Katya Efremova is transferred to the prison colony on Solovetsky Island, she finds an enigma among her returned possessions – a blood-stained book containing a cipher left by her murdered mother, written on the day she died.
Following her mother’s clues, Katya begins to unravel a centuries-old mystery woven into the history of Solovetsky Island. Finding the island’s legendary power might be the key to overthrowing the Bolshevik regime, but Katya wasn’t sent to Solovetsky by chance. The head of the government’s spy network is watching, and there will be no hope of a free Russia if he takes hold of the magic hidden beneath the White Sea snow.



Great article! I always thought the Dutch Pirates, the Sea Beggars were a story that would turn well to fantasy, with characters like William the Silent. I’d love to turn it into a space opera, a la Treasure Planet
Thank you, Lillian.