The Land of Seasons
Once upon a time in a land far different from our own, a dirty old hag sat hunched over a bubbling cauldron of toxic fumes. Above her dried herbs hung from the thatch ceiling, and bottles filled with strange colored liquids sat on the shelves over the simple fireplace. Intricate relics from times long forgotten crowded the remainder of the hovel. They were discarded in a manner that made hardly space for her robust waist to wade through, never mind the comfort of her visitors.
The people of the realms had come to know her as Auntie, her name so long lost in time that it no longer mattered if she had one. More often than not she was thought of as mad with the way her garbled mutterings came off her lips non-stop, but her blue eyes always twinkled with a craftiness that those same people feared. She chuckled to herself as her gnarled fingers sprinkled another herb into her toiling concoction. Despite her age and the way her fingers were bent, she moved with a deftness that defied natural order.
Feeling spittle start to run down her chin, the hag wiped it away from her wrinkled lips. She needed to look at least half decent. After all, she was expecting a rather grand sort of company. She grinned in toothless horror as her expected visitor finally stooped through her small wooden door. He was tall, yes, and attractive in a pretty sort of way. His clothes were more fashionable than most, giving away his life's position though that wasn't something he was concerned about at the moment. In fact it probably helped his goal.
"Takin' yer tam Ah sees, highness." The old hag had been expecting him for quite some time, after all.
He chuckled at her, his voice sophisticated and gentle even though she knew he had venom running through his veins. It was something he kept well hidden even from his own family. He crossed the threshold in a single step and leaned against the huts lone pillar.
With an uncanny casualness he picked up one of the ancient knives and twirled it in his fingers. "I had to wait until she was prepared to make her move. You know that." Her guest responded in a friendly, teasing, tone. Like the hag, he was a crafty devil yet his ways were far subtler than her own. How could they not be? Even now his parents presumed him a useless son. He did nothing, except lock himself in his study all day pouring over books and writings from long ago. They called him a scholar.
The hag was more inclined to call him a fox. After all, only a fox would be able to outwit the masses into believing he was unwilling to fight the White Witch. If they knew what he was studying, their opinions would be quite different. Yes, quite different indeed.
"The hour is almost on us though, so it's time… and I need your assistance."
The hag's grin faltered momentarily, her blue eyes softening in some contorted form of concern. The only way to defeat the White Witch was through the use of a curse. She knew he had already tried every spell, every enchanted object. Nothing had worked. For such a curse the Prince would have to give up everything.
"Y'sure ya want t'pay the price for this magic?"
With care he set the knife back down and pushed himself off the pillar. She could see the heaviness weighing him down as he spoke, "Luc and Dura understand." His eyes rose off the floor to meet hers. The cat-green eyes did not sparkle with his usual wit, and his smile that faded as he became more serious.
The old woman nodded her head. He understood the ways of magic better than most, had studied it until he did. As much as she would have liked to have otherwise in this case, Magic always came with a price.
"C'mon back in three days. Ah'll 'ave it ready then."
Kaext bowed to her respectfully. "Thank you Auntie. May you and your niece both find happiness should I succeed… or fail." The old woman inclined her head. A smile returned to his lips as he turned and left the old woman to her craft. After all, he had more business to deal with before the day was out.