(So, this is a Beedle The Bard-ish tale that I wrote...for class. That's right! For school! XD Figured I'd put it up here, since it is sorta a fanfic. Anyway...enjoy!)
The Birth of the Phoenix
In a small village that sat perched on a cliff aside the sea there lived a young and beautiful witch. She was respected for her talents and loved for her kindness and generosity. The people in her village prospered with her help, and travelers, both magical and non, came many miles to see her.
One day, a woman came to the witch carrying her youngest child in her arms. "I have traveled far," she said. "My son is ill and no doctor has been able to help him. Please use your magic to save his life."
The witch agreed to heal the child, but as she took him into her arms, she realized he had already succumbed to the illness. Feeling powerless and heartbroken, she wept over the boy's still form. She apologized to the woman and begged her to accept other forms of assistance. But the woman merely thanked her and asked where she could find a place to bury her child.
Although she could have done nothing for the woman and her child, the witch saw only her own failure. She decided to leave her home and travel the world, believing that she could have helped the child had the woman reached her while he was still alive.
Along her travels, the witch helped everyone she passed by. She quickly gained recognition, and many men and women joined her travels. Her following grew and looked to her for guidance and inspiration. She taught her followers to be kind and generous and to help anyone in need.
As time passed and the witch began to age, her country went to war with a neighboring country over a quarrel between the two country's kings. Desperate to stop the senseless conflict that would surely leave many women without husbands and many children without fathers, she sought an audience with the king of her land. Although she tried many ways to convince him to call off the war, the king was prideful and eventually sent her away.
Powerless to stop the fighting, the witch could only watch as young men marched away and coffins were carried home. She visited the soldiers' graves and sang to each one for hours, her voice carrying throughout the cities, towns, and villages she visited. Her voice was so beautiful that every person who heard it stopped to listen and mourn with her.
Eventually the war ended and the witch continued her travels with more followers than ever before. She traveled throughout the land, helping countless numbers of people, but she was always haunted by her failures. As she grew into old age, those failures became more and more numerable. Her closest friends and followers gradually passed away, and she found herself still helpless against the power of death. Her magic grew as weak as her body, and she began to see that she was little more than a burden to those around her.
So, in her final days, the witch traveled alone back to the tiny village in which she had spent her youth and found that it was full of young people who did not recognize her. She moved into the village, intending to spend her last days in peace, but was plagued by the knowledge of all the pains in the world that she was unable to heal.
One day not long after the witch had moved back into the village, a young wizard who knew of her reputation appeared at her door. He had heard that the witch possessed a wand more powerful than any other which was the source of her strength and fame. This was, of course, nothing more than a rumor, but the wizard was foolish and hungry for power.
He pretended to speak kindly to the witch, telling her that he was one of her followers and that had come to be her apprentice. However, the witch saw through his lies and demanded that he state his true purpose. So the wizard lied again, saying that he had come seeking her wand so that he could continue her great deeds after she had passed away.
The witch, seeing the young man's folly, drew out her wand and told him that he was welcome to take it if he could merely relieve her of the guilt she suffered for her many failures.
Seeing his chance, the young man assured her that he had a perfect spell in mind. However, he confessed that his own wand had been stolen a few weeks earlier and asked if he could borrow hers. Chuckling to herself, the witch handed her wand, which was not spectacular in any way, over to the boy.
Laughing aloud at his own perceived cleverness, the boy turned the wand on the witch.
"Arrogant crone," he said. "Do you think you can carry all the world's sufferings on your shoulders? I will indeed free you from your guilt!"
The wizard waved the wand, intending to transform the witch into a mindless and helpless goose. However, either through the unwillingness of the wand to hurt its master or through the boy's own ineptitude, the woman was transformed instead into a magnificent gold and crimson bird.
The boy was so frightened that he stumbled backward out of the doorway and hit his head on a rock, injuring himself. The witch quickly flew forward to help him, but realized that she could no longer speak or use magic.
As the boy lay dying on the ground before her, she lowered her head and began to weep. Her tears fell upon his wound and healed him instantly.
The wizard got up, thanking her and apologizing over and over. She picked up the discarded wand in her beak and flew up to land on his shoulder. Dropping the wand into his hand, she began to sing.
The wizard's heart was filled with a courage he had never known before. Taking the wand, he set out across the land in search of those in need. He traveled far and helped many and the witch was always by his side.
