#27 – Passages

She walked slowly through the empty passages, a torch held in front of her, casting just enough light that she didn't trip over her own feet. The walls were damp, and she kept determinedly to the centre of the path. The air was cold, and she shivered, wishing she'd had time to pull on another layer before escaping to the catacombs of the castle.

Kiamo Ko.

It had sounded so glamorous when Fiyero first mentioned it. The little girl inside her had been dreaming of turrets and towers, roaring fires and, of course, a Prince Charming to keep her safe.

But Fiyero was gone. Dead.

And so when the hunters came marching, there was no prince to guard the fortress, no lover to hold her hand, to reassure her they'd be all right.

There was only a Witch, forever feared, forever afraid.