Title: The Witch of the Wandering Wood
Rating: PG
A/N: Inspired by the art work of Jeffery Thomas: .
The prince had followed the rumors of the legend's truth to heart of a dark and foreboding forest. He had been taught to be suspicious of fairy tales, and prided himself on his logic, but as the youngest son of a king his prospects were poor. His salvation in redeeming a fortune for himself had been found in chasing tales, and solving mysteries. Thus far, he had made himself a hero in many lands, but the monetary reward for such feats had been disappointing. Then he heard the tale of The Sleeping Beauty and the riches of a long lost kingdom held in a deep slumber amid the wilds of a forest no man dared tame.
The townsfolk near the wood informed him on no uncertain terms that his quest was folly. He had laughed at their superstitions, their tales of moving trees, and, as in any good story, the mention of a witch who trapped young men and stole their youth. He had laughed, but he was beginning to regret his hubris. There were no paths in the wood, not even the slim trace of deer paths. What little direction he thought he had gleaned was now gone, the trees closing in around him and blocking any sign of guiding stars.
In a blind attempt to keep from panicking the prince climbed a tree, giving up before he could even breach the top of the treeline. He saw one star and part of the moon, and something that looked like the crumbling spire of a castle. He shook his head, climbed down, and prepared to make a camp for the night. He had just reached the bottom of the forest floor when he saw a strange light moving towards him. Red, green, and blue lights grouped together like fireflies traveling in a soft even pace accompanied by the sound of gentle footsteps.
"Hello there," he called. "I am lost, can you help me?"
An owl screeched in reply.
The prince leaned up against a tree and shut his eyes. He was letting himself be taken in by the tale. The lights probably were some sort of strange insects, the footfall nothing more than a rabbit or deer. He set his jaw and said, "No worries, charming boy, you shall find a way."
"But not with your eyes closed," the soft feminine voice roused him.
He blinked. "Am I dreaming?"
"Quite...possibly," the young woman said softly.
"I am lost," the prince began and stopped, finally taking note of the girl before him. She was quite beautiful despite her ragged and outdated attire, and the slim scars that marred her fair cheeks, and hands. Her eyes appeared to be shut, but then the prince saw that they were sewn shut and that the girl was blind. A lantern with three glowing points of light was tied around her waist, and words slipped from his mouth before he could stop himself, "A witch."
"Must I be?" The girl frowned slightly.
The prince shook himself. "I apologize. I fear I have been letting my mind be taken in by the stories from the town."
"A town now," the girl muttered to herself.
"What was that?"
The girl chuckled, "Superstitious lot."
"Indeed. I thought for a moment the trees really did move, but," the prince stopped and then looked just beyond where the girl was standing. "Yes, the path was just there."
"Only just," the girl said. "My house is this way. If you do not wish to spend the night out here you should follow me."
"Of course." The prince stepped towards her, and was about to take her arm when she pulled away sharply.
"You perceive my condition, but forget yourself," she stated sharply. "I have lived here for many years without any help."
The prince made apologizes and followed the girl quietly down the path.
The journey was not long and soon the path opened up to a small clearing where an old woodcutter's cottage sat near a small stream, and under the roots of a giant tree. Inside the cottage was clean and quaint. The girl offered him a cushioned chair, and began to prepare a pot of tea. He watched as she placed the lantern on a hook, and for a moment, so brief it barely registered, he thought he saw the faces of three withered old women in the glass.
"Why did you come here," the girl asked moving easily about her task of preparing the tea tray.
"Oh the usual trifling adventures of a young prince," he replied.
"Are you a prince?"
"Yes. I am the youngest of three, and so I've no real prospects."
"Ah, so you are after fortune." She grinned and picked up the tray, walking slowly towards the prince's chair.
"Yes. I have had some luck at it, but-"
"No gleaming troves of endless treasure? No dragons' keeps?" An eyebrow arched as the last question left her lips.
"No." The prince took a cup from the tray, and a biscuit. He chuckled and then said, "There's generally some truth to the fantastic tales people tell, but the monetary yield is often quite low. Though I did fancy, just for a moment, when I was out there- I thought I had seen the spire of a castle."
The girl stopped still for a moment, and then said, "So, you are here for the Sleeping Beauty."
The prince shrugged and looked out the window. A great owl peered in at him, and then screeched before flying away into the forest. He shifted in his chair and the said, "I don't hold with all that superstitious magic. Half the time what is considered magic can be explained quite rationally. No, the Beauty is not my goal. I suspect if there is a lost kingdom everyone is long dead from a plague or what have you. But-"
"But the kingdom's treasure is surely still around."
The prince laughed, as he chewed on his biscuit. "Yes. Yes, indeed."
The girl set the tray down and took a seat by the fire. She looked for a moment oddly reminiscent, and then she said, "There is a ruin not far from here."
"Really?"
"Yes, but it is not the castle you are searching for."
"Oh, but it must be! Can you take me there," the prince asked eagerly.
"In the morning," the girl said, "Right now... You will sleep."
And he did, quite suddenly, dropping his cup onto the floor.
He could not see clearly, but he knew it was a dream. A beautiful young woman sat at a small vanity combing out her golden hair. She looked miserable to his eyes. She stared into her reflection and from within the mirror, or perhaps behind her, a dark figure appeared in silhouette. Words were spoken that he could not make out and then, as in a myth he had once read, the young woman grabbed a set of broaches and pierced her eyes. So as to return to the embrace of the dream, was the thought that entered his mind. The shadow in the mirror looked at him then, yellow eyes glinting, and then it laughed, triumphant at last.
The prince woke with a start. He was still seated in the cushioned chair. There was just a little light entering the gloom of the cottage, and when he looked out of the window he noticed that the clearing from the night before had vanished. He sat up, and heard the girl humming to herself in the kitchen. The melody soothed him, she must have a had a beautiful singing voice. He looked back outside and saw an owl in a tree. It had a bit of red cloth around its neck, like a cape. It blinked lazily for a moment and then shut its eyes.
The girl entered the room with a small plate of berries and a cup of cream. She held them out to the prince and said, "Breakfast. All I have I fear. I was not expecting company."
The prince nodded and took the food. "Thank you." He ate quickly and then said, "I must have been dreaming last night. I thought there was a clearing out in front of your house."
"You saw a clearing?" A small wistful smile formed at the corner of her lips.
"I thought so, and a stream. I must have dreamt it."
"Possibly." She walked over to the door and grabbed a ragged shawl. "Whenever you are ready I can show you the way to the ruins."
The prince stood up and walked his empty dishes over to the kitchen. He noticed the empty lantern hanging on the wall, and shook his head. The girl was already standing outside when he returned. She was standing by the tree with the owl, whispering something he could not make out.
"Before we go," the prince said, "will you tell me your name? I quite forgot to ask it last night."
"I was given many names," the girl replied coldly.
"Then tell me the one you liked best." He smiled broadly, out of habit, to appear endearing.
"Briar."
"And I am-"
"A prince," the girl cut in. "It does not matter which prince."
Briar led the way towards the ruins which were closer than the prince thought they would be. The ruins had been a castle once, but not much remained of it. It looked as if it had been crumbling for ages, but there was enough structure for him to wander around it until he came to a sound looking staircase that led up to a remaining parapet. Briar seemed disinterested in his explorations and had sat on a rock humming to herself. She only moved when he placed his hands on the entrance of the staircase.
"Going up?" Briar asked.
"I thought I'd take in the view."
Briar shook her head and followed him up the long winding stairs and out onto the parapet. The prince touched the weathered remains of a raven statue and sighed. Briar approached him from behind.
"I told you this wasn't the right castle," she said. "Nothing remains here but the stones."
"I see that." He sighed miserably. Then something caught his eye out in the distance. "My word you can see the brambles from here."
"Yes."
"Unusual for thorns to grow so thick," he said. "Maybe the castle is there."
"It is," Briar whispered.
"I should need more than a sword to get through all that."
"Yes, much more than you have." She stood right next to him now. "What would you do if you found her there?"
"The Beauty?" He shrugged. "Nothing I suppose."
"You'd let her sleep on forever, and steal her family's gold?"
"No, not that either." He furrowed his brow. "Well, I might take a small stipend to remember the find." He sighed and leaned into the stone. "I doubt I'm the one with the magic touch."
"No, you are not."
The two took their leave of the ruins and went back to the cottage. The prince silent for hours, brooding the loss of yet another treasure. The girl went about her daily business sweeping the floors, washing dishes, and preparing a small meal for supper. Then at last she settled into a chair and the prince found he had the nerve to ask her more questions.
"Your eyes?"
"I lost them many years ago. There was... an incident," Briar replied swiftly.
"I see."
"You don't." She shook her head. "If you did you would not have gotten lost, and you would have heeded the villagers."
"Oh, am I in danger?"
Briar smiled. "You should be."
"Would you...would you mind taking me to the edge of the forest in the morning? So I don't lose my way again."
"I don't have to."
"What?"
"You are already there. I am sure you can see the light in the distance."
The prince looked out of the window and stood up when he saw the lights from the town. "You are a witch," he whispered.
"Well, yes... and no." She stood up and walked over to the prince her eyes, a deep dreaming blue, suddenly open.
"Who are you?"
"A Sleeping Beauty."
"This can't be real."
"No, and yes." She touched the prince's arm and he fell to the floor. "Dreams, my dear prince are a different kind of reality."
She stepped away from him and looked over at the lantern where the three glowing specs of light. had returned.
"You can scream all you like. I will never let you out. For all your cursed blessings I shall never forgive you." She touched the prince's face and then stood up and opened the door. An owl flew in and perched on her outstretched hand. "Come along, Philip," she said, "He'll be waking up soon."
The owl hooted.
"He does not have to die. None of them ever really do." She knelt back down over the prince and put her free hand over his eyes. "But they usually put up such a fight when I try to collect my payment, and I am feeling...generous today."
She stood up and grabbed the lantern, walking out into the darkness of the forest. Leaving the prince to wake in the soft grass at the edge of the wood, without a left eye, and any further longing for treasures or adventure.
End.