One day, she was walking through the forest to her grandfather's house, when a witch appeared and said: "My, my, my...What lovely eyes you have my child." As she was saying this, the witch ran her thin twig-like fingers down the girl's face.
"Thank you, old lady." The girl said as politely as possible, but also trying to slip away slowly from the hideous witch.
"Wouldn't it be wonderful if I had one of those pretty eyes? Hm? You have two, so you have one to spare, don't you, young woman?" The witch rubbed her hands in a greedy way.
The girl decided to run. As she turned the witch grabbed her arm and chanted an evil spell, as her voice rose and fell, the girl felt an immense pain in her left eye. It felt as if the witch has dug her thin fingers into her eye socket, and groped for her eyeball. She screamed and writhed, giving all her effort to escape the witch, but her limbs felt like dead weight and the witch's fingers sunk into her arm. Then suddenly, with a powerful tug of a spell, her left eye was taken from her.
The witch prized the mystic blue eye, still stained in blood in her two wrinkled hands. She shrieked in laughter and disappeared in a cloud of wicked smoke.
The girl wept on the forest floor alone, her hand covering the bloody hole where her eye used to be. As she cried her tears mixed with blood ran down her face, smudged by her hair, creating a hellish creature.
As she wept and sobbed helplessly, there was a gentle hand placed on her shoulder. As she looked up with her remaining blue eye; and she saw a young man standing before her. His blonde hair glistened in the sunlight like gold, his face was handsome and angelic.
Very gingerly, he lifted her chin with one hand. It was warm and strong like the sun. "Poor thing," he said, "the Witch of Sorrow got to you." His voice was almost like a whisper, but it was magnetic. The girl looked at this mysterious man, it was as if there was a glow around him, and his scent was a mix of sunlight and fresh citrus. His attire seemed foreign and regal. But what really made the girl captivated was his deep red eyes. What an enchanting shade. It was like dancing fire on crimson roses.
Speechless, the girl nodded, and more blood tears rolled down her pale cheeks. The man took her in his arms and kissed her wound. His lips were soft like raindrops, but certain like fire. As he let her go from his embrace, the pain from her left socket immediately subsided. She felt for it, and there it was, her eye was back! The girl wanted to thank the man, but he was gone out of sight. There was nothing left but the trees and bird song in the forest.
The girl quickly picked herself up and ran to her grandfather's house to tell him what had happened in the morning. After she had finished her story, the old man leaned forward and said: "You have encountered the two most powerful people in the known world today, my child. The Witch of Sorrow, and the King of Flames... Look." As he was saying this, he held up a small mirror to the girl's face.
And there she saw, her missing blue eye was replaced by a glowing red one. The exact same shade as the young man who helped her in the forest.
No comments:
Post a Comment