The Hunt
Eric awoke at the break of dawn to prepare for the long travels ahead. His cabin stood a short distance away from the Queen's castle, in a village which once celebrated song and dance. In these times, the village was filled with death, the only major event being a funeral which occurred weekly. Before long, every soul would be obliterated by the Queen's dark magic, the only hope having been lost long ago. At least whatever time he had left could be spent with his wife, thought the Huntsman, shedding signs of optimism.
Eric assembled knives, an axe, and a pair of shackles to grasp his prisoner. He concluded that it shouldn't be too hard to find a human girl in a village full of dwarfs. The last time he journeyed to the dark forest was many years ago, in search of the princess whom he helped escape the Queen's massacres. He made it as far as the snow-covered mountains, which stood at the forest's end; enduring the intoxicating barriers and wicked beasts. Nevertheless, he returned without any luck, reckoning that the princess was gone for good. After his return came the habitual deaths, as if all people had given up. It seemed as though there was no point to life anymore; days only consisted of tolerating Queen Ravenna's dictatorship. No one dared face her dark army.
After gathering his weapons, the Huntsman prepared sandwiches to support him for the days ahead and packed up the last of his belongings. He left his cabin and faced the crisp morning air. The sky was just beginning to lighten as he made his way for the woods. The crescent moon appeared pale in the sky. Before leaving the village grounds, he noticed two figures fusing into the backdrop. Two guards from the Queen's dark army observed his activity. Had he not gone, he'd be dead.
Snow White held a bow and arrow, aiming at her target. The scarlet apple stood nearly twenty feet from where she was positioned, flickering at her in taunt. "You have this," whispered Beith with his harsh voice. "Just breath and focus." Now squinting, Snow White released the arrow, watching it steadily soar through the air. She bit her lip in anticipation and observed as the arrow narrowly passed the apple. She grunted in disappointment. "You're getting closer each throw," Beith announced.
"Perhaps I'm not cut out for this," Snow White muttered in discontent.
"You may have the impression of a butterfingered, delicate snowflake," said Beith. "But I know there's a fighter in you, just waiting to escape." Snow White grinned at Beith's remark. "The others will be glad to hear how far you've come, even if it isn't yet clear to you." They began to walk back to their home, after a progressively slow day.
The dwarfs began to teach Snow White combat after an incident occurred, only months after her arrival. They had left Snow White in solitary while they scoured for food in the woods. Restless, she withdrew from the walls of the cavern, and curiously wandered, admiring the birds that hovered above her. Having ventured quite far, Snow White encountered a white wolf which observed her in the distance. She curiously approached the wolf, as it began to growl at her, and witnessed it's corrupt, red eyes. Becoming aware of her fault, she began to retreat, but it had been too late. The wolf began to charge at her, drool dropping from its eager mouth. Snow White became frozen in panic, and closed her glistening green eyes. When she reopened them, the white wolf's fur was painted red, an arrow now appearing in its neck. The following days she experienced mourning, but the dwarfs explained that it was the way of the woods, and that the way of the woods she would be taught.
"Tomorrow I'll show you how to put that dagger to good use," Beith noted as they entered a damp cave which led to the deep region of the woods, and the home of the dwarfs.
The Huntsman wandered many miles away, in search of his prey. Thus far, he had managed to avoid the hallucinations of the dark forest and any contact with the savage beasts that lived among the trees. An icy mist obstructed his vision along the way, many times surging frigid chills down his spine. He had also felt as if he was repeating his route at times, but he knew it was just the tricks of the forest.
After hours of walking, Eric stumbled upon a lake with a wobbly dock extending above it's shallow waters. At the dock's end sat a slender canoe strapped to a log. Possibly a faster way, thought the Huntsman, as he crossed the frail planks and placed himself in the canoe. He untied the binding rope and began to paddle along the smoggy lake. In the same manner as the forest, Eric was unable to see anything just a few feet ahead of him, but the waters were calm. He decided to take a break and devour some of the sandwiches he prepared for his trip, but his peace was soon obstructed.
Trumpets began to sound in the distance, creating daunting tones, and the fog began to grow thicker. He was now unable to see the sandwich in his very own hand. This was a new experience to him, having never drifted along the waters of the dark forest before, but he knew it couldn't be good. Suddenly, the waters below him began to tremble and he grabbed his ores, paddling as fast his his strength could manage. He suddenly became feverish, as if the air was immensely humid. Before he got far, something rose from beneath the waters depths. Tentacles extended, elevating many feet over the Huntsman's canoe. His eyes strained to search for the obscured entity surrounding him and before long, they descended down, colliding with his canoe. Eric was propelled into the mystical waters that once sat below him, and plummeted down to the river's floor.
He thrust himself up from the ground, kicking his legs rapidly. He rose higher and higher, nearly reaching the air to fill his lungs. His hands withdrew from the water above him and he felt his rucksack, filled with his essentials. He took hold of it, but before his lungs could breath once again, he was thrashed back down into the water by the beast's limbs. Eric neared a state of unconsciousness. He felt tranquility, as if his wife was nearby, and he would soon be with her again. Water began to fill his body which felt like sandpaper grating against his throat and lungs. His body thrashed senselessly in the water until it reached the surface once again and he opened his eyes.
The Huntsman took hold of a piece of broken canoe with his free hand; his rucksack now tangled to his other. He coughed up the water that had entered his lungs and looked around him. The fog had become more transparent, but it would still be hard finding an out. For what felt like hours, Eric floated amongst the waters in search of earth. He finally felt dry dirt run through his hands as he settled near land. He continued his search for the prisoner which would last him until the overturn of daylight.
Dusk was approaching, which felt like ages since the Huntsman had left that morning. His body was worn, and he was exhausted from the endeavour's of that day. He decided to make camp up against a vast oak tree and placed his damp blanket on the ground. He took out his other belongings, letting them dry, and ate another one of his sandwiches. He had only two left, his others having been ruined by the waters earlier that day. He decided that he'd stay put on land for a good while.
Eric situated himself on the blanket below the oak tree. He stared up at the night sky, in search of signs in the stars. None revealed themselves to him. However, the branches of the tree began to sway above him, unorthodoxly. It wasn't a result of the wind, for the motions came from within the tree's soul. Focusing more closely, the Huntsman noticed engravings of stars and other galactic symbols in the trunk of the oak. These markings were familiar to him, as if he'd seen them before. And then it hit him. He had come across this tree in his travels of the dark forest many years ago. It also filled him with an overwhelming pleasure, a feeling he hadn't felt in a very long time. He had been right before, in taking the lake as a faster route. The cavern's which led to the dwarf's village were now only a few miles away. He would rest that night, but in the morning, he would have his prey.
Queen Ravenna stood in her throne room, staring at the golden mirror, once again. She spoke the same words as she had before, "Mirror, mirror, on the wall, who is fairest of them all?" The centre of the mirror began to run down like silk, and formed into it's figure before the Queen. She was anxious now, more so than other times. She would soon possess Snow White's heart, the answer to all of her distress.
"My Queen," began the mirror, "On this day, there is one fairer than you." Anguish took hold of the queen, as it did every time he pronounced those words. Before she could speak again, the mirror continued, "But in short time, the princess shall be in your grasp. Take her heart, and you shall never again need to consume youth. You shall never again weaken or age."
A smile fell upon Queen Ravenna's face. "Immortality," she whispered, and the mirror went back to it's original form.